"I'm still out here in the wind and rain, look a little older
but I feel no pain," - Warren Zevon, "Lord Byron's Luggage"
Whether it's at a blackjack table in Vegas or with a transexual hooker in Amsterdam, we all push our luck too far sometimes.
These situations create a sense of intense urgency, and how one copes with the pressure can double your bankroll or leave you vaguely ashamed and standing alone in a back alley somewhere near the Red Light District.
But while today happens to be my 29th birthday, I made a vow last year to curtail my encounters with transexual hookers and the last gamble I took was ordering Vietnamese food out of the phone book.
What I do have in common with the above scenarios, however, is a great sense of urgency for the next year.
The main catalyst is the realization that I have only one year remaining before I turn 30, and then it becomes increasingly more difficult to categorize embarrassing escapades as "youthful indiscretions."
This is a bitter pill to swallow my friend, and I plan to cut a deep path across Austin this year to combat this oncoming train of responsibility.
I've got a new job to contend with, two screenplays that need an audience and a potential modeling gig with a bunch of New York queens that might lead to more stories than Caligula at his weekly orgy.
That is a full year for anyone, so I'll save the hookers for my next birthday because right now I need the rest and there's no time in my hectic schedule for Tranny-strumpets - at least until early May.
-BDS
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