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21 October 2007 - Let's rob Mick Yagger!

I've got about three more weeks down in NZ...and only four exams. Not a very serious workload. Traditionally, I'd use this time for completely meaningless purposes, like compiling a list of the top songs to listen to on a rainy day (which for the record includes: Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head, Riders on the Storm, Have You Ever Seen the Rain, When the Levee Breaks, The Rainbow Connection, Red Rain, Thunder Rolls, It's Raining Men) or actually trying to figure out the ending to Lost.
But this month will be different. Why? Because for the first time in my life I have a motivation. Or I should say, a motivation that doesn't involve putting in a last second bid to snipe some sweet comics on eBay. Those auctions get intense, I tell you what.

Some use their children or politicians or athletes, but I live vicariously through television (which would explain the four pairs of cut-offs in my closet, why I intend on having my own entourage, and why before I jump into bed with a girl I announce "The following takes place between 11pm and 12am. Events occur in real time").
Two seasons ago, after a Limewire-induced marathon of House, Grey's, Scrubs, and Nip/Tuck (not to mention Dr 90210), I decided to go pre-Med and become the next great plastic surgeon sex symbol.
And then I started watching Boston Legal and reruns of The Practice, and law school came a calling.
But Fall 2007 is the season of the CEO. Big Shots. Cashmere Mafia. Dirty Sexy Money. Lipstick Jungle. Gossip Girl. All of these shows feature people who have really really ridiculously big bank accounts. They all lead that fast paced lifestyle made up of Park Avenue parties, multiple mistreses, AMEX black cards, Dylan McDermott, etc.
And what have a learned from these shows?
I need to be one of these neo-yuppie scumbags.

Somehow or another, I need to get rich. I doubt that the screenwriting thing is going to pay off anytime soon. I think that I missed my window of opportunity for male modelling. And it may be too late to make my Allan Houston return to the NBA. So I'm looking for my way to get rich quick. Basically, I need to find my million dollar baby...only without the mercy killing.

So over the next few days, I'm going to be outlining all of my genius concepts. And remember, you were at the ground level. Well, not in an investment, profit sharing, "I bought Xerox in the '70s" kind of way. But you know what I'm getting at.


Death to the infidels,
MGD

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