My Vagrancy Adventure Part Three: In Which the Romance of the Woods is Utterly Forsaken in Favor of Pressing Forward Into the Screenplay.

By the end of the day I had finished close to 70 pages (total) and been dumbfounded at the 50+ Paris Hilton-esque conversational antics of Dumb Rich People Who Live on Yachts (I spent most of the day writing at the Marina; I even took a break from GROOM INCLUSION PACKAGE to sketch out a whodunit in which the locals offed one of these insufferable Rich Tourists). When I was a kid, my Republican upbringing made me believe that wealth was best off in the hands of the responsible, educated, cultured folks who already possessed it; let me just assure you that my marxist leanings were only reinforced by long observations of these multimillionaires.