Richard III: Another famous 33 year old.
I wanted to do something really special with this year. I really did. But lately, the thought of forming a new religion, healing lepers, attacking church corruption, and getting painfully crucified in a Mel Gibson-directed snuff film has overwhelmed me somewhat. Especially since there is another (in)famous 33 year old whose footsteps I could follow in. Now, I don't have two nephews, and according to my mother, my niece is strictly off limits, but I'm sure I could be compelled to lock two of the world's most annoying house cats in a North Oakland turret somewhere and call it a day. The way I see it, kidnapping, usurpation of the throne, and civil war are much easier to indulge oneself in than just running around being compassionate all the time. Of course Richard III was hacked to death on a battlefield. Hmmm. Maybe I will just sit around North Oakland with my cats and write crappy poetry for another year.