I can hear myself now

I can hear myself now:

"Going to a war torn 4th world country, unarmed, no language skills, just to do charity? Never!"

Or after I saw "The Killing Fields":

"God, I´m sure as hell never gonna go to THAT place!"

Another one I like is:

"Why travel to far off, dangerous and uncomfortable places when there´s BBC Documentaries?"

Yup. Right-o. Not. Me.

Never. Ever.

Jaaaa. Mmmm-Hmmm. And now? In less than 3 weeks I´m about to embark on a journey that will make Cormack McCarthys novel "The Road" look like a bedtimestory for toddlers. (If you don´t get this reference and you´re too lazy to read the damn Book, just download the damn movie)

A brainless gigolo with 4th degree syphillis wouldn´t sign up for this gig, so why did I?

Why indeed? My apartment is already rented out to some drugaddled headbanging deathmetal devil worshipping offspring of an old hippy relation of mine, one to truly know and live the meaning of Free Love up until today, and Dr. Ws  place will soon be occupied by some cokehead from the -------- --- School (Name deleted at insistence of legal department).

In other words, from the 1st of september we are officially homeless, and we might never see our cozy homes alive again. So, why are we doing this?

Well, because we are professionals, goddammit. And we will get the job done, as soon as we get there and find out what in the hell the damn job is about.

Which, admittedly is still a little hazy. A little as in King Kong is a little monkey.

The latest suggestions by our projectcontroller Mr. Ling involved the military conflict with Thailand, and the defusing of landmines.  Mr. Ling, as you may or may not know, oversees operations from a cozy little office in a skyscraper in Macao, and his concept of charitable work is becoming rather suspect to me.

But, hey, it´s Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride from here. And it´s one hell of a torpedo that we lit under our asses. Keep an eye out for the headlines. We´ll see you there.

Counting Down...