My summer so far has been extremely uneventful.
Sure, I started a company, preformed a military coup on my hometown of San Anselmo, declared myself the Oil Czar of Marin County, got stung by a bee, helped an old woman across the street, built an adirondack chair, got a freaky haircut, and was involved in an international incident with China (which ended with a party that got me banned from flying commercial airlines, don't ask). But compared to what my summers are usually like, that's nothing. Usually there's more insanity, like the time I nearly blew up a meat-packing plant (2007) or the time I posed as an FBI agent in order to steal a car and escape some Russian spies (2009) or the time I single-handedly decided who would lead the free world in 2008 after only three minutes in the White House situation room.
Aaah, those were the days.
This year, I'm going back to Lassen National Park (see my previous blogs, 'Day one',
'Day two', 'Day three', and 'Lassening'.) It'll be interesting, as long as my chief spy shows up to tell me where the bunker is. If I said any more, I'd have to kill you.
Of course, the Yugoslavian meat packers may or may not return for revenge. If they do, I'll be ready. I've secretly stolen a rail gun...
I can say no more.
Today's PEARL OF ANTI-WISDOM: Never say never, unless you're talking about Sarah Palin's presidency.
Bye!
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