Evil Comic Mastermind

There was a rather good party last night at Vertigo. Everyone survived, and that is usually a decent start. I found a new way to get in by clambering up the fire escape and diving through an open window. Very Maxwell Smart. Of course the multiple cans of coke that I had and the 2 cans of Red Bull (it was my first time and I'm laying the blame on Nic for the resulting loss of innocence) meant that I was freakin' buzzin, man. Haven't been that pumped since a crazy night in 98 when I thought I could fly. *sigh*

Included in this sugary buzz fest was a top conversation with Ben, which has lead to a change in focus. I'm now no longer plotting to be a lecturer, academic, policy analyst or even burger flipper. I am now planning to become an evil comic mastermind.

I anticipate huge personal gains for myself. For starters, people won't snigger when I tell them I'm planning to become a historian. Secondly, I will pull evil hot groupies. While Ben doubts the ability of the comedian to get some, I remember when Seinfeld was in trouble for getting young some. And I don't wear jeans with white sneakers.

The third aspect of this plan which I am looking forward to is a successful invasion of Crete. Crete is an ideal strategic island from which I could control the Mediterranean, work on my tan and drink lots of ouzo. There is something inherently attractive in the irony of me ruling a bunch of Cretans.

Speaking of which, I gave a ride home to Claire, Ben, Emma and James T. After dropping Emma off in the middle of no-where (she's free now) we were in the process of abusing Claire when I spotted a canoe on the side of the road (Brougham St?). I don't understand why it was there, but I didn't really trust it. Claire wanted to take it home but I vetoed that idea. It was giving me attitude.