After pulling pressure cookers, Williams-Sonoma mulls embago on forks, knives

The Boston Terror attack occurred less than a month ago, but its repercussions will go on for years. Dzhokha Tsarnaev is in custody and Tamerlan is dead — but so are sales of pressure cookers in Boston-area Williams-Sonoma stores.

Patch reports:

Williams-Sonoma, the specialty retailer of home furnishings and gourmet cookware with over 250 stores in the United States, has pulled pressure cookers from their shelves following the Boston Marathon bombing.

“It’s a temporary thing out of respect,” said Kent, who is the Store Manager of the Williams-Sonoma at the Natick Mall. He referred Patch to corporate for further questions. Williams-Sonoma also has a local branch at Legacy Place in Dedham.

Pressure cookers will still be available on the Williams-Sonoma website.

The media did not cover this story, but if responsible journalists did they would have found out that other potentially dangerous items were on the Williams-Sonoma chopping block: knives.

Your very own Doctor Bizarre did a follow up with “Kent,” and here’s what I learned:

“As much as I hate to admit it, cleavers and boning knives might have to be temporarily embargoed,” said Kent. “Wüsthof Classic Chef’s Knife as well. Sure, they run up to $200, but terrorists who care about their craft undoubtedly come to Williams-Sonoma. Heck, there was a shifty guy was came in just this weekend who bought an Antique Bamboo 4-Piece Cheese Knife Set, and I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since. He wore a baseball cap — just like the terrorists — and I think he wore a black jacket. I refuse to have blood on my hands. It’s that simple,” said Kent.

Here’s how Williams-Sonoma markets its cheese set:

Add a touch of sophisticated style to any gathering with our bamboo cheese knives and server. Use the spreader for spreading soft cheese and the fork for transferring portions to individual plates. The pronged knife is useful for breaking up hard cheeses and spearing portions, and the server slides under cheeses and appetizers for serving. Accented with nickel-plated brass tips, the polished wooden handles are crafted of bamboo, a tropical hardwood prized for its beauty and strength. The blades are made of durable stainless steel. Approx. 6 to 6 3/4” long. Hand-wash. Set of four. A Williams-Sonoma exclusive.

The more that I listen to Kent, the more I like the man. Sure, cheese sets are meant to be used on cheese, but they could add “sophisticated style” to a different kind of gathering — say ground zero for a terrorist attack? Placed inside a pressure cooker, cheese knives could cut through your liver like … cheese. And so, after much thought and deliberation I must concede that the “Kents” of the world are right. When faced with the prospect of death by religious fanatics or crazy people (or crazy religious fanatics if you’re really unlucky), I think the proper response is to cower in fear and put away the cutlery.

Years from now, when hardware stores start restricting the sale of nails and we all wear inflatable suits and helmets, we will thank Williams-Sonoma. Sure, the libertarians and the conservatives will laugh now, but like me they will see the light. I do not consider myself a liberal man — I really don’t know what I am — but I know that on this issue, the threat of upscale terrorists who buy linens and aprons from the Williams-Sonoma Monogram collection is too much to take. Liberty? Freedom? What good is freedom when you’ve been impaled by a handful of Shun Classic Paring Knives (suggested retail price of $100 – $113)?

I know not what course others may take, but as for me give me pressure cooker bans or give me death!

Next up in Seattle: Taxing sex due to increased respiration, C02 output?

Who knew environmentalists were cannibals. They’re now eating each other in Seattle, so to speak.

One would think that the endangered species known as the Republican in the region would be a bit more sane when it comes to environmental moon-battery, but alas … tis not the case.

State Rep. Ed. Orcutt recently entertained the idea of taxing bicyclists because they emit more CO2 when they’re out on the road.

Representative Ed Orcutt (R – Kalama) does not think bicycling is environmentally friendly because the activity causes cyclists to have “an increased heart rate and respiration.” …

“You can’t just say that there’s no pollution as a result of riding a bicycle.”

Mr. Orcutt then followed up with the community to acknowledge how scientifically bankrupt his point was, but that bicyclists should pay for the bikes-only road improvements they desire.

“[O]ne aspect of the Democrat tax plan that has merit is their proposed $25.00 tax on the purchase of any bicycle $500.00 or more. I am willing to consider this because I’ve heard requests from members of the bicycle community that they want more money for bicycle infrastructure. The idea of bicyclists paying for some of the infrastructure they are using is one which merits consideration.”

So Democrats in Washington want to tax Democrat-cyclists more for roads that they already pay for … and Republicans in Washington want to go along with it because they hope people are dumb enough to fall for it, and because exercise increases CO2 output. (Or not on the CO2 thing because people weren’t quite that stupid — this time.)

One way to cut C02 emissions would be to kill us all, which may be an option for politicians somewhere down the line. In the near future, perhaps you’ll be charged a tax every time you have sex, because that increases your respiration rate, and thus C02. Politicians can install cameras in our homes and watch the bedroom cams until people have sex, at which time they will ring up another green tax.

In all seriousness though, as much as I like bizarre news, this story out of Seattle is just depressing. While I don’t mind paying taxes for any number of things, and I’ll sit idly by as I’m taxed for ideas I find preposterous, eventually a culture reaches the point of no return. I have a feeling that the officials in Seattle would pass a law that would allow them to cavity search a man if they thought he was holding out on them for a “pedestrian tax” or a “coughing-fit tax” (we all get sick from time-to-time, and thus expel more CO2).

I propose a progressive stupid-tax to pay for Seattle’s roads. The dumber you are, the more you must pay. Politicians would inevitably bearing the brunt of the load.

Obama’s rich pals attend Inauguration; voter asks for more methadone

The good doctor is in —back from an extended stay in an Australian methadone clinic that ended badly, primarily because I had to come to grips with reality: Barack Obama or Mitt Romney would be president in 2013. Who was I to vote for: the rich guy who spent most of his life running for president (rather creepy, don’t you think?) or the guy who pretends he hates rich guys when he really, really loves them? A lot. Especially if they donate to his causes and especially more than you.

Joel Kotkin writes for the New Geography:

Apple, Google, Facebook, Amazon and Microsoft are far from “the workers of the world,” but closer to modern-day robber barons. Through their own ingenuity, access to capital and often oligopolistic hold on lucrative markets, they have enjoyed one of the greatest accumulations of wealth in recent economic history, even amidst generally declining earnings, rising poverty and inequality among their fellow Americans.

Last year the tech oligarchs emerged as major political players. Microsoft, Google and their employees were the largest private-sector donors to the president. …

An even greater beneficiary of the second term will be the administrative class, who by their nature live largely outside the market system. This group, which I call the new clerisy, is based largely in academia and the federal bureaucracy, whose numbers and distinct privileges have grown throughout the past half century.

Even in tough times, high-level academics enjoy tenure and have been largely spared from job cuts. Between late 2007 and mid-2009, the number of U.S. federal workers earning more than $150,000 more than doubled, even as the economy fell into a deep recession. Even as the private sector, and state government employment has fallen, the ranks of federal nomenklatura have swelled so much that Washington, D.C., has replaced New York as the wealthiest region in the country. …

Like empowered bureaucrats everywhere, the clerisy also sometimes reserves a nice “taste” for themselves, much as the old bishops and upper clergy indulged in luxury and even prohibited pleasures of the flesh. Just look at the lavish payouts accorded to Orszag and Treasury Secretary-designate Jacob Lew, who, after serving in the bureaucracy, make millions off the same Wall Street firms that have so benefited from administration policies.

So who loses in the new order? [T]he biggest losers likely will be the small business-oriented middle class. Not surprisingly Main Street, far more than Wall Street, harbors the gravest pessimism about the president’s second term.

Newsflash: “Too big to fail” is even bigger. The debt is bigger. The spending never stops and the federal government runs its finances in ways that would get us thrown in jail. Meanwhile, there will be roughly 1 million people who descend on Washington, DC tomorrow to watch the president pretend as though he cares for them.

The difference between Mitt Romney and President Obama was never that one was overly concerned with “the rich” while the other one cared about “the middle class” (What is that, anyway? How do you define “middle class”?). The difference is that President Obama likes to pick winners (e.g., Google) and losers (e.g., oil companies) while Mitt Romney had the big-brass Mormon balls to say he wanted them all to be winners.

And so, that is why my addiction to opiates continues to bear down on my chest, like that big-boned prostitute in Poland. Was it that time in Warsaw, or was I really in Prague? That whole European excursion is a blur…

Regardless, I am back in the nation’s capital for a week, perhaps two, depending on how the social scene pans out. There are a lot of parties with wealthy Democratic (female) donors, and many of them are just as generous with their bodies as they are giving out other people’s money.

You have not lived until you have bedded a leftist member of the Beltway elite, particularly if they’re dumb. As they’re about to drift off to sleep I whisper in their ears:

• “CAFE standards are bullshit.”
• “I would have let GM go bankrupt.”
• “The Department of Housing and Urban Development is a joke.”

Sometimes there’s a momentarily flash of concern on their faces, as if they’ve just given up a bit of their soul to someone who isn’t one of them. The truth? Who knows what I am. I don’t even know. But I do know that the vast majority of politicians — including the Great Obama — are pretenders. Unlike actors and musicians and drug-addled bloggers, they have the power to craft and enforce the law of the land.

And without further adieu, I return to Dr. Bizarre’s secret chest of magic analgesics.

San Fran nudity ban draws naked rage

What kind of world are we living in when a man can’t walk naked down a San Francisco street in broad daylight without Johnny Law coming down on his waxed backside? These are the times that try men’s souls, and it’s all because of Castro District’s Scott Wiener:

San Francisco may be getting ready to shed its image as a city where anything goes, including clothing.

City lawmakers are scheduled to vote Tuesday on an ordinance that would prohibit nudity in most public places, a blanket ban that represents an escalation of a two-year tiff between a devoted group of men who strut their stuff through the city’s famously gay Castro District and the supervisor who represents the area.

Supervisor Scott Wiener’s proposal would make it illegal for a person over the age of 5 to “expose his or her genitals, perineum or anal region on any public street, sidewalk, street median, parklet or plaza” or while using public transit. …

Stripped down to his sunglasses and hiking boots, McCray Winpsett, 37, said he understands the disgust of residents who would prefer not to see the body modifications and sex enhancement devices sported by some of the Castro nudists. But he thinks Wiener’s prohibition goes too far in undermining a tradition “that keeps San Francisco weird.”

Who are we to pass judgement on men who prefer to do their shopping wearing nothing but a penis pump? What kind of prudes are we, where in 2012 our community’s fine (or not fine) male specimens can’t walk through a gay part of town in the hopes that someone will like what the butcher is selling? Since when did such a proudly blue town become oppressively red?

On Nov. 6, 2012, President Obama was re-elected, and not weeks later the wards of tyranny seek to restrict a man from showing his Prince Albert off for the high school kids? Since when did Karl Rove grab control of the wheel in Nor Cal?

Colorado says “screw you” to the federal government and passes a law to legalize pot, but the citizens of San Francisco aren’t allowed to expose their “anal regions” in the subway? Talk about two steps forward, and one step back!

Listen to me, San Francisco, and listen to me hard: I’ve been to Ibiza. I’ve been to Pamplona. I ran with the bulls and I danced in soap suds while high on prescription drugs. That is a lot of fun, but one of the few things that has kept me tethered to the United States has been my ability to shove a ball gag in my mouth, strip down to my birthday suit, and skip, skip, skip to my Lou (my darlin’) down the streets of certain California wonderlands. Do not mess with my nudist-friends because they undress for success while you still cling to your monkey suits.

Let’s not turn the Castro District into the Fidel Castro District, shall we?

Obama re-election ad: When creepy adults exploit children

Is there a special place in Hell for adults who exploit children for political purposes, stealing their innocence to pimp ideology onto voters? We don’t know. Regardless, it’s pretty darn creepy to ask kids to put a forlorn face on while singing about “fixing” gay people.

Campaign season tends to bring out the worst in people — of all political stripes. That’s why I, Doctor Bizarre, love it. It’s a great opportunity to chronicle the depths politicians and their acolytes will go to in order to sell their brand to the public.

So where did the “The Future Children Project” come from? The San Francisco Gate has answers:

The award-winning ad team that brought you “Got Milk?” and some of America’s most iconic ads have created a touching, memorable — and, yes, slightly terrifying — new spot that stars America’s children. Just in time for Election Day, it’s selling a striking message — about the country’s future.

Jeff Goodby and Rich Silverstein, whose SF-based Goodby Silverstein & Partners ranks among the country’s most celebrated ad agencies, just released the new spot for their Future Childrens Project — and it’s sure to make some waves.

While it’s encouraging to see the giant red bar of dislikes the video has received on Youtube (also known as the lightsaber of death), it’s still worth noting that men with power and influence are often inclined to use tactics preferred by every infamous authoritarian regime known to man in order to get what they want.

Take a look at some of the lyrics for Goodby and Silverstein’s ad, and then ask yourself whether they are men or monsters for stuffing election year propaganda down the mouths of children. Also, ask yourself what kind of parents would sell out their children for the ad in the first place.

Imagine an America
Where strip mines are fun and free
Where gays can be fixed
And sick people just die
And oil fills the sea

We don’t have to pay for freeways!
Our schools are good enough
Give us endless wars
On foreign shores
And lots of Chinese stuff

We’re the children of the future
American through and through
But something happened to our country
And we’re kinda blaming you

We haven’t killed all the polar bears
But it’s not for lack of trying
Big Bird is sacked
The Earth is cracked
And the atmosphere is frying

There was a time when adults tried to protect the innocence of children. The early years were something to be cherished. Kids were not meant to be political pawns, and disagreements between adults were kept at the big table. While it seems as though the majority of Americans are still repulsed by efforts to use our most vulnerable citizens as philosophical cannon fodder, their are efforts like a strong undertow by men like Goodby and Silverstein to make everyone “fair game” in the battle for public policy supremacy.

Question: How many takes did this commercial need before it was in the can? How long did it take for Goodby and Silverstein to get their child actors to look as though someone had just killed their parents backstage before forcing them to sing their President Obama re-election jingle? Inquiring minds want to know.

Messrs. Goodby and Silverstein, you are scum. You are more miserable than Gloria Allred. You are even lowlier than Donald Trump, which I didn’t think was humanly possible. Your efforts on behalf of the president have already backfired, and if he loses his bid at re-election you will have played a very small, but noticeable part in pushing independent voters towards Mr. Romney. Congratulations — you are both officially idiots.

 

‘Piss Christ’ returns to NYC; ‘Piss Mohammad’ still missing

It’s official: I will be going to New York City on September 27 to see the return of … ‘Piss Christ’!

On September 27, the Edward Tyler Nahem gallery in mid-town Manhattan will host an exhibit, “Body and Spirit: Andres Serrano 1987-2012,” that features Serrano’s “Piss Christ” piece; it shows a crucifix submerged in a jar of his own urine. The exhibit ends October 26.

The taxpayer funded (in part), award-winning crucifix dipped in urine has long been on my list of “must see” attractions, up there with ‘Piss Mohammed.’ Sadly, Andres Serrano has not been able to urinate since 1987.

Given the violence in the Middle East, there are rumblings in the art community that the “courageous” Serrano might not be as courageous as he’s been made out to be. Critics argue that despite his inability to pee and refusal to use a catheter, he has made use of his own blood and semen for other pieces of “art.”

Thankfully, Serrano has broken his silence:

“My muse is stubbornly silent when it comes to Islam. I tried ‘Pubic Hair Mohammed’ and ‘Diarrhea Mohammed’ but they just didn’t speak to me on a deeper level. I keep them from the light of day not because I fear reprisal, but because I fear letting down my fans.”

The New York Times is predicting that thousands of Christians will storm the city on Friday, September 28. The FBI reports that they will be carrying rocket propelled grenades, AK-47s and molotov cocktails. The Honduran ambassador to the United States will be in New York City on that day, but as of yet no further security precautions have been taken.

Yours truly, Dr. Bizarre, will be on the scene to report on the chaos. I also plan on asking Serrano how he has not urinated for decades. His kidneys must hate him.

Ryan’s rock hard abs lose Romney a big voting bloc: Fatties

Congressman Paul Ryan maintains 6-8 percent body fat by doing P90X. By doing so, he has lost the fat vote to President Obama.

You’ve heard pundits on both sides of the ideological divide discuss why Mitt Romney’s decision to pick Congressman Paul Ryan, R-Wis., was either the greatest move of his campaign, or the proverbial nail in the coffin. Conventional wisdom says that really old people living high on the hog in Florida will not want to take a chance on a politician who says cuts to Medicare won’t affect them. Personally, I think conventional wisdom has a spottier track record than most people want to acknowledge, but that’s besides the point. If Mitt Romney loses in November it will because of one voting block: The fatties.

By now everyone knows that Paul Ryan has abs like an action hero. He does the infamous P90X — but he really does it — as in, he’s not one of those people who bought the product, tried it for a few days, and then went back to his normal routine. The man is living proof that if you put your ass through the wringer … you’ll have a nice ass. This does not sit well with fat people, particularly during the height of an “obesity epidemic.”

Before continuing on, in full disclosure I must admit: In an attempt to contract the obesity virus that plagues the nation, I have bedded more overweight women than I would like to admit. Some of them even coughed and sneezed on me during my experiments, and yet I still maintain a weight the federal government has deemed healthy. While I have not been able to contract any form of fat virus, I yield to the experts’ advice — and apparently my own eyes. There are a lot of fat people out there.

And so, it is my assumption that the nation is not ready to have a serious conversation about its gluttony. Every time Paul Ryan appears on television his chiseled physique reminds us that self-discipline, restraint and hard work can have an amazing effect on the body. Sure, he seems like a gregarious guy, but underneath that smile and taut, tight skin is a fat man, crushed to death under pounds of muscle.

Paul Ryan wants to starve the poor just like he starved his inner fat man. He wants people to work just like he works his abs and gluts, quads, hamstrings, back, biceps and triceps. That may sound good, but it’s bad news to people who really, really, really enjoy eating.

War on women? War on minorities? War on gay people? Why debate any of that when Paul Ryan’s war on fat people is the firefight that will determine the outcome of the election.

A nation that willingly strives to give itself Type II Diabetes will not allow a fitness buff like Congressman Paul Ryan to reform Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security. If President Obama is re-elected, Democrats will have one constituency to thank, and one constituency only: The Constituency of Fat.

Today it’s 3D rifles, tomorrow — our clones

If you haven’t heard about 3D printing, you will. It’s an amazing technology, but it’s starting to scare people, particularly those concerned with gun control:

Thingiverse is an online community for 3D printers to share ideas and blueprints of various objects people can create at home. It’s a neat place to learn more about getting creative with your 3D printer… that is until Thingiverse user HaveBlue declared that he has completed a project that could print a working semi-automatic rifle capable of firing at least 200 rounds without fail.

According to Popular Science, HaveBlue 3D-printed a 0.22 caliber pistol which he adapted from an AR-15 rifle model. The item only cost him $30 worth of ABS plastic to complete. Though the prototype works, HaveBlue states that more modifications are still necessary thanks to existing feed and extraction issues. But the fact that anyone could download the blueprint and attempt to create their own weapon at home makes us more than a little nervous.

Eventually, we’ll have 3D printers that will use organic tissue to build hearts and arms and kidneys and all sorts of good things. People will undoubtedly take the technology for granted, drink until their liver is one big piece of scar tissue, and then have their doctor print a new one using adult stem cells. Regardless, right now we get hammers and nails and fully functioning firearms.

What’s it mean, besides the fact that guys like me will soon be printing out an armory of weapons just for the heck of it? Well, it means that there will be a lot of people overreacting. They’ll try and keep the technology out of our hands because certain segments of the population will misuse it — and that’s sad because humans have been misusing technology since its inception. The most important thing to do as we move forward will to craft laws that respect and safeguard freedom and liberty for future generations, and then hold people accountable who break those laws.

With 3D printing technology, some people will build cars and the auto industry will not be happy. Some people will make clothes. Star Wars nerds will make armies of action figure storm troopers. (Finally.) On a long enough timeline, others will make clones of themselves in their basement — and I won’t even attempt to ruminate on the weird things law enforcement agencies will run across.

I say all of this because critics of 3D printing technology who focus on handguns are incredibly myopic. Their imagination is almost non-existent because the capacity for this technology to do amazing — and horrible — things far exceeds the 2nd Amendment.

As the future begins to get bizarre, I can only hope that as a society we spend less time crafting laws to moderate behavior, and more time teaching people to be upstanding citizens.

Question: In a world where you can print out a new body for yourself on demand, how useful are biological, chemical and nuclear weapons? When genetic engineering becomes so advanced as to relegate physical death to a choice (or an extremely unfortunate accident), will we finally be able to stop acting like kids and turn our attention to outer space — the final frontier? I hope so.

We run with the bulls because we’re dumber than the bulls

I write to you from beautiful Pamplona, where the annual San Fermin Festival got underway with a bang (literally). And yes, I am wearing a white shirt, white pants and a red kerchief. If you don’t know what I’m talking about then Google it, and then have someone smack you because willful ignorance is embarrassing.

I’ve gone to the “running of the bulls” for years, but never as an active participant. I’ve never had the hot breath of an angry bull bearing down on me, or the cheers of a crowd propelling me forward. Why would I, when there are girls, girls, girls and wine and revelry and everything in between?

Regardless, life isn’t about being a spectator; it’s about getting in the mix and risking it all for the wild ride. And so, months ago I started training for the run in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. There’s a monstrous hill just outside Arlington where I have been training on a regular basis, wearing the exact same outfit I wear today. The neighbors have never bothered to pay me much attention, opting instead to stare out their windows as curious observers.

In order to outrun bulls I first had able to run respectfully, something I haven’t done on a consistent basis for years. I hired three poor college kids and three day laborers apiece to meet me each Saturday. They were expected to show up at the top of our designated hill wearing anything they wanted, provide it was bullish brown. My specific instructions were to give me a 20 second head start down my 800m hill, at which time they were to try catch and pummel me with an object of their choice. The only stipulation? It could be no bigger than a pair of horns.

On many weekends my wild-eyes and banshee yells as I sprinted ahead of my pursuers culminated with a small town cop asking questions at the bottom of the hill.  No one inquired into the immigration status of the day laborers, although oddly enough I was (for all intents and purposes) questioned about any romantic relationships I might have with the strapping young college lads. Trumped up charges never stuck, and the next weekend we were back at it.

And so I ran this weekend. In Spain. And not once along the way did I think, “Why the hell am I doing this to these poor animals?” because the answer was obvious — the throng of us were, at least on this weekend, dumber than the bulls.

When is the last time you saw a bull get plastered on sludge wine, pass out and then wake up having wet his pants on a park bench five miles from his hotel? The answer: Never. And I’m not just saying that because bulls can’t make hotel reservations. Or drink. Or fit on a park bench or wear skinny jeans. Although it would be a more interesting world if they did…

I have some serious thinking to do. Right after another bottle of wine.

Europe wants to pay me to party and get sick. Who am I to deny the offer?

Next year, I will get lost in the fabulous foam of an Ibiza nightclub. I will wake up the next morning hurt and sick and injured. And then, I will get to do it all over again because Europe’s high court says I’m entitled to a sick-free vacation. Life is amazing.

There’s a stretch of beach in Ibiza I like to call my own. I do this not just because I love the endless white sands and the beautiful people, but because like an animal I left my mark there after getting sick on little pink pills you can only get from the Mediterranean party girls — dangerous little daisies who have never been disciplined by a Catholic nun, or the Oklahoma dad who always had his “switch” just a quick trip to the shed away.

I’ll be going there much more often these days, as Europe’s high court has ruled that its citizens are entitled to “do overs” if they get sick on vacation. The Grey Lady reports:

For most Europeans, almost nothing is more prized than their four to six weeks of guaranteed annual vacation leave. But it was not clear just how sacrosanct that time off was until Thursday, when Europe’s highest court ruled that workers who happened to get sick on vacation were legally entitled to take another vacation. …
With much of Europe mired in recession, governments struggling to reduce budget deficits and officials trying to combat high unemployment, the ruling is a reminder of just how hard it is to shake up long-established and legally protected labor practices that make it hard to put more people to work and revive sinking economies.

Sure, I just got back from China, but this … this is gold. I’ve been hesitant to disclose such information until now, but I have dual-citizenship with a certain European country that will remain nameless for the time being. (The story involves the tiny hamlet of Crookhaven, Ireland, German prostitutes, the French Foreign Legion and a great man known only as Phillipe.)

In America, we work. We work, and work and work and work and … then we die. In Europe, someone else works and works and works … and dies, so that I can go on vacation and get “do overs” if I get sick. I live in the best of both worlds.

In America, I work really hard for an anonymous angel investor who believes in the need to explore the more “bizarre” enterprises of life. In Europe, I have a “job” doing something similar, although most of it is done remotely and what I turn in is usually shoddy because they can’t fire me. Phillipe once said that I’m too busy living to be too busy working, or some such psychobabble… It’s crazy and stupid and unfair, but oh so right.

Regardless, I want you to think long and hard about the European high court, its decision, its implications and what it means — not just for drug-addled guys with dual citizenship or full-fledged Europeans — but to honest, hard working Americans like you.

Maybe it means something. Maybe it means nothing. Regardless, I’ll see you in Ibiza, where adventurous souls laugh at Las Vegas claims to the ‘Sin City’ mantle.