Fantasy Blog

There is a price that one pays for being in the public eye. Celebrities complain all of the time about the cost of being famous. Like most of you, I thought their complaining to be petty and down-right insulting. Over the last few days I've come to empathize with these thespians. Not to say that I myself am famous, no no no. But this blog has taken on a life of its own and has become a target for the public's need for entertainment. This blog has been without an entry now for about the sum of 3 days and already I have people emailing me asking if I am alright, that they haven't seen a blog for a while and they need more. It seems you feel the need to be informed of my actions here in Korea on a daily basis. As telling you of yesterday's crazy affairs involving dishes and laundry might be too risque for the laymen's eye, I will tell a story of lust, greed and the search for endless adventure. It is up to you to judge the true verity of the story.

Yesterday started off just like any other day. I woke up, crawled up from out of my gold-embroidered coffin and set to making my usual breakfast of brontosauras eggs and wild bore sausages. I said goodbye to my wife, Kate Beckinsdale, and i was off to my job in the city. This job, of course, was just a cover for how I truly spent my hours during the day. You see, I am a superhero! Although I have no discernible superpowers I am constantly saving the world from our deadliest foe, the lack of English conversational skills. Without the ability to converse with one's fellow man in English we would all truly perish.

Now yesterday was exceptionally interesting as I had gotten wind that my despicable adversary Taka Korean was looming about in my fortress of ALL THINGS SUPER. When I entered into my combatant's square, there he was just inviting me to engage him in battle. I knew that his goal would be to suppress my super ability to impose my will on him in this heated war of attrition. I faked him with a copy of the Oxford dictionary and the idiot goes for it. Boom, pow, a fluurry of punches to the upper solar plexus. He's eating grammar and semantics and choking on a copy of Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes.

At once I was sallied forth to City Hall to receive yet another Key To The City for once again defeating the evil Taka Korean and his legion of non-Englishians. I then rushed home to share in my delight with my wife Kate who was in the midst of entertaining the Playboy Bunny All-Star cast. They were all so impressed that Kate suggested we all retire to our games parlour for a game of Twister. We played well into the night and as is custom in our householed, rather than send them off into the scary night tired and afraid, we asked if they would like to sleep in our King Sized bed. I'll admit, it was a little more personal than I was looking to get, but I bore down and had one of my best night's sleep in recent memory. The End!

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