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Subject:A Picture(And Point)-less Entry Written Before Friday Dinner.
Time:03:38 pm
Sister sent me a postcard from Paris that features a dozen French chicks wearing blue wigs, red gloves and dolphin shorts with suspenders. Oh, and they're all topless. On the bottom it says "Le Crazy Horse, Paris." Ahhh, this finally explains why the Crazy Horse in Vegas is called Crazy Horse 2.

--

I've begun coordinating another Southeast Asia trip with either T or Lenny & Squiggy. Or all three guys, although T would most likely bring along his woman, and I'm not sure if I can travel with females again ... at least not to any place where there are physical objects that you can buy with currency. If we were visiting the Sahara desert and some guy was selling sand to tourists, I guarantee you the girls would stop to check it out, and maybe haggle over the prices before happily leaving with their recently purchased "Saharan Jewel Dust."

So T called from Hong Kong to discuss the trip, but we ended up talking 'til 2 AM about life. Not the board game, magazine or breakfast cereal, but the actual thing.

These type of conversations shouldn't be too surprising this time of year. Autumn tends to be an introspective season, since everybody's worn out from drinking, dancing, and fornicating all summer. As the bright sky begins to grey and the foliage dies a reddish-orange death, they then attribute this weariness to a hangover of the soul and start to wonder about their existence.

"What is the meaning of life?"

"Why do I feel so empty inside?"

"Is this what it sounds like when doves cry?"

Can't tell you what we talked about since so many of our friends read this thing, he starts every conversation with "Dude, promise not to tell anyone what we just discussed." But in a nutshell, he basically displayed all the classic symptoms of someone who'd just finished reading "Tuesdays With Morrie."

T's not the only friend who's felt compelled to re-examine his life after reading a pseudo self-help book. After reading "Rich Dad, Poor Dad," Rog decided he wanted to be independently wealthy enough to pursue acting w/o fear, and has since started building a small real estate empire. Me, I ended up reading "What Should I Do With My Life" and "The Millionaire Mind." Haven't finished either of those books yet as I was too busy drinking, dancing and fornicating.

Sadly the only thing that really inspired me this week was a cable movie, "The First $20 Million is Always the Hardest." Based on yet another Po Bronson novel, it's not even a great flick since the director went a little overboard trying to create his own version of "Real Genius"/"Revenge of the Nerds" with cheezy results. However I was still struck by the main character: a guy who willingly abandoned his cushy wushy existence to risk pursuing something he was truly passionate about.

I thought I'd done the same thing long ago when I chose advertising over i-banking or consulting, but I realized it was just a compromise. Since this realization I've been yearning to do something I could say that I "live for," but all I've been doing is that: yearning. And yearning is just gay.

Get ready for a stupid analogy...

--

I jumped off two different cliffs during my Hawaii vacation. The first one was that famous rock in Waimea Bay. It's pretty high, about 25 feet. But, knowing it was safe to jump into the waters below, I took the leap right away 'cause I'm Manimal like that.

The second cliff was in a dark, rocky grotto behind some small island that was only reachable by kayak. This one was only nine feet high, but the water below was murky and, worse, filled with sharp reefs. Someone had told me the trick was to jump as far out as possible and I'd be fine ... just as long as I didn't land too far left, too far right or two feet short - in which case I'd either smash my legs to pieces, or impale myself on this dagger-like rock somewhere directly beneath me. Manimal turned into Mangina.

It took me a fricking minute of hesitating before my ass finally jumped. Til then, I was too busy making sure my footing was secure; making sure the area I was jumping off wasn't too wet; making sure my knees were properly bent, etc. Finally I thought to myself, "The longer I wait, the less likely I'll jump." And so I finally stopped thinking and just jumped.

Jesus, if only life were as easy as the board game.


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[icon] caffeineguy
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