Wednesday 22 April 2015

Day 187, A pier of one’s own.



Just outside my front door in the UK there is a large lagoon.  Whenever I’m back home this is the place I choose to be.  Here I feel more centred and at ease.



The jet set lifestyle may seem very attractive, but trust me it is an enormous burden.

Having to be in New York in my Manhattan loft apartment one day, then, after a brief stopover at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway for a private session speed testing my custom built Lamborghini Aventador I then need to recuperate at our small, but luxurious, villa at Musha Cay in Copperfield Bay in the Bahamas the next. This can be such an emotional drag.  The tedium of first class air travel has to be experienced to be believed, there really is only so much Champagne that one normal, yet pretty impressive, human sized body can absorb over the duration of travel.

Then there is the problem of the press.  Forever trying to point out what a pretentious and hypocritical wanker I am.  You may not be au-fait with such things but trust me it is the most difficult job in the world.

Oh, here’s my four o’clock foot massage, I really must dash, they’re late and are going to be in such trouble, I may have to report them to immigration.




















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