Photo by Ciara Osorio

Animal Tropical's Jose Castello.

​After spending three hours sitting on our asses for Saturday night's Borscht Film Festival screenings at the Adrienne Arsht Center's Knight Concert Hall, we here at Crossfade needed a fucking drink.

Now don't get it twisted ... We totally love cinema, especially the Magic City-made variety. And if we were voting members of the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, there would be Oscar ballots cast for Barry Jenkins's Millionyoung-inspired Chlorophyll, Coral Morphologic's Man-O-War collabo with Animal Collective's Geologist, Otto and the Electric Eel, Jorge Rubiera's Bird Watchers, and Jillian Mayer's cutesy-crazy filmic ode to Uncle Luke.

But we just can't go much longer than 180 minutes without booze. So you can imagine our relief when the Borscht braintrust invited us to Villa 221 for some afterparty shots. The delirium tremens subsided right away.

See the cut for photos from the post-movie party.
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Photo by Daniel De Las Casas

​Typically, you'd have to wait till your 21st birthday before veering wildly into the realm of endless tequila shots, dry-humping behind the bar, and other forms of 5 a.m. misbehavior.

But the Vagabond's been in the debauchery business from the very first minute of its 1095-day existence. And over the weekend, this NE 14th Street institution paid tribute to that legacy of partying hard with a two-night anniversary bash.

On Friday, Crossfade's number-one female DJ crush, Mary Anne Hobbs, unleashed her Road Warrior tour on Miami's masses. And the next night, Brazilian tag team The Twelves led the crowd to trouble.

See the cut for photos from the Vagabond's third anniversary bash with the Twelves.
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Photo by Alex Broadwell

ArtOfficial's Logics on the Sweatstock main stage.

​You were stoked. You woke up at dawn. You showered. You sipped a cup of spiked coffee. You slipped into your best vintage Black Flag tee. And then you crashed the Sweatstock gates at precisely 10 a.m., kicking off Sweat Records' second annual miniature music festival in honor of Record Store Day and the store's own anniversary.

You browsed the wax stacks. You scored a couple of free early-bird Heinekens. And you got your groupie ass autographed by a whole army of local rock stars.

You were there, right? Well, if not, bummer ... You missed a badass block party. See the cut for ten photo highlights from Sweat's minifest.
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Photo by Ian Witlen

You know it's over when a giant, sexy rabbit shows up.

​Yesterday, the great nation of Ultra Land was 150,000 pookie heads strong. And yet today, it's just an enormously empty concrete expanse peppered with mangled pacifiers, rolling tufts of yarn hair, and discarded furry boots.

The DJs have all gone home. The cleanup crews are out. But we're still here, hunkered down in our pile of trash behind the Tower of Ultra, trying to avoid detection while scrawling copious notes on the end of Ultra Music Festival 2011.

It was fun while it lasted, though. And over the course of that third and final day, we guzzled coffee with !!! (Chk Chk Chk), shot the shit with MSTRKRFT, collected our winning bets on the Beatport Awards, assessed Ultra Land's fashion freakouts of 2011, and heralded the waning hours with 12th Planet, Steve Aoki, Crystal Castles, Armin Van Buuren, and Chemical Brothers.

But it's over. See the cut for ten photo highlights from Day Three of the Ultra Music Festival 2011.
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Photo by Ian Witlen

Whoa, dude. Can you stop pointing that thing at me?

​How are you? Tired, dehydrated, out of drugs ... Yeah, this debauched free-for-all so innocuously called Ultra Music Festival can really run you down. Somebody should've totally warned you, huh? Oh, that's right -- we did with our five-item Ultra fest survival kit.

And you shoulda listened 'cause we feel awesome. Well, a couple of our Crossfade correspondents overdid it and woke up in a pile of trash behind the Tower of Ultra. But otherwise ... Awesome.

Up till now, there's been extra rounds of Ultra Bingo, pool parties, a Tweetcast from the port-a-potties, Swedish House Mafia's Masquerade Motel, some Black Magick, and tons of Ultra action with Boys Noize, Cut Copy, Moby, Empire of the Sun, Deadmau5 and others.

See the cut for ten photo highlights from Day Two of the Ultra Music Festival 2011.
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Photo by Alex Broadwell

Digweed behind the decks at the Vagabond.

​You tweetcasted from the port-a-potty.

You got goofy and sunburned with Simian Mobile Disco, Boys Noize, and a middle-aged, glowstick-wielding paramedic at Day Two of Ultra Music Festival.

And then (so long as you didn't overdo it and pass out in a trash pile behind the Tower of Ultra) your afterhours were spent skulking around the Black Magick Miami Party and busting nuts with the Ed Banger boys at Bar.

But you didn't miss John Digweed's dignified getdown at the Vagabond, did you? Well, if so, that sucks. At least, we brought back a bunch of photos.

See the cut for some Digweed pics.
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Photo by Ian Witlen

Over the last 18 hours, we here at Crossfade have provided you with 18 reports from our first day wandering through Ultra Land and beyond.

So far, we've played a few rounds of Ultra Bingo. We've gone to pool parties and Sunday School. We've enjoyed sweaty encounters with CSS, Erasure, Duran Duran, Tinie Tempah, Shit Robot ... And now here are ten photo highlights from Day One of the Ultra Music Festival 2011.

Excuse us, though, office hours are over. We gotta go wade back into Ultra's hot sea of bodies.
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Photo by Yesenia Hernandez

Rockin' the boricua bikini at Calle Ocho 2011.

​ Like most of Dade County, Crossfade spent Sunday among the million-strong throng at Calle Ocho. We got sunburned, stupid drunk, and totally soaked in the sweat of random strangers. It was awesome.

But today, we're kinda bummed. As we said in our earlier missive to the Ocho nation: "Perfectly greasy arepas, warm Presidente, and pure party music should be celebrated 100 percent of the freaking time."

Yet unfortunately, this isn't a 24/7 Calle Ocho universe. And so, we just gotta try to hold on as long as possible. A couple of hours ago, we reminisced with some video. And now we've got a stack of photographs.

See the cut for pics of conga lines, Puerto Rican chicas, and drum circles at Calle Ocho 2011.
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Photo by Ciara Osorio

​See the 25-photo Winter Party Beach Party slideshow.

Is there any better way to spend a debaucherous Sunday than partying half-naked on the white sands of South Beach with 5,000 oily Egyptian princes, tough babes in bikinis, skater boys with boyfriends, tatted-up riot raver chicks, and blue-haired drag queens?

Yesterday, the annual Winter Party Beach Party -- "the gayest event under the sun" as Crossfade correspondent Ily Goyanes described it earlier -- soaked SoBe in sweat and vodka while getting messy to Gaga, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha.

Check the cut for five hot, glistening pics.
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Photo by Lex Hernandez

​How do you throw a b-day bash for a two-year-old baby named Dirty Hairy? Fire! Confetti explosions! Purple lizards! Vodka shots! Dolla dolla bills! And babes in strategically ripped and/or sheer shirts!

Not to mention, you hire Canada's hottest Canadian electro crew, Dragonette, to provide the entertainment with a quick and dirty rendition of its hyperactive hit "Hello."

See the cut for five peeks into last night's Dragonette show and Dirty Hairy anniversary insanity.
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