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See paragraph four of Greatest American Dog. 

Oh the summer blog lull. The sun is warm, the grass is luscious, the booty shorts are out. Why bother sitting inside and updating your friends and family as to how your life is? Why bother taking time to read, think, plan and increase knowledge when you can go outside and play with so many different kinds of balls that it could be considered fondling? 

I just puked like seven times. Each time, the puke was projected at least ten feet, and in a trail at least twenty feet long. So that is 140 feet of puke shot a total of 70 feet away. I went to the fair.

India is over. Back to nonsense sports blogs and dreams for the empty future. Get stoked.

To Nic, in response to yourself five weeks ago,

Dear the Architect of the Taj Mahal,
I’m no architecturist, they are usually hippies and people who constantly fantasize about triangles and their incredible architectual ability, but I do know that if I was one, I’d want one building I built to be something that people could look at for a few minutes and say something like, ‘Hmmm’ or ‘Shiiiat’. Something like that. Maybe a bit more eloquent, whatever though.
They call yours the 7th wonder of the world, but I say it is better than the other six. I don’t know what the other six are, but they must suck if I’ve never heard what they are. But people from everywhere for 400 plus years have come to your building to take those classic awful but ever-so necessary photos, so I’d say you did well. Very expert.
There was a while where I really wished that I had one talent. I didn’t care if I’d be very expert at it, but at least semi-decent. I have searched and found nothing, and have passed the age of eighteen years that is a young man’s talent peak, so I’m over it. I’ve accepted the fact that not everyone is good at something, but some people just are, which is likely where meditation came from, people who couldn’t do much else decided to just ‘be’. Genius.
So instead of inspiring me with your incredible work of white marble beauty, you have inspired me to accept mediocrity. Better I do it now than ten years down the road, saves me some money and ten years of beauty. I kinda just decided to find something I deem important and somehow, anyhow, do that. Somehow I came upon encouragement, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. So I continue to write with the slight hope that maybe one of the eight people that read it may be encouraged by maybe one word of it. Crude and often pointless things usually encourage me, so there must be someone else out there who instead of getting offended, can be encouraged by my endless swears and awfully repetitive writing. But I guess chances are slim, like those of the Asian tourists not getting pickpocketed, or slim like the Hindu god city cow whose diet consists solely on moustache trimmings and good intentions.
At the same time, just as encouragement’s arch enemy is negativity, so is my greatest ally. No one said it would be easy. It should be hard like coming up with a sufficient simile in the right spot, one that will knock you out like a plenty ripe underarm under the midday sun.
So congrats on your world acheivement. You are a real prick sometimes. I’ll design something just as epic with less ‘creative’ amateur photography and more hot Indian girls, if that is even possible.

Your biggest fan and architectural competition,
The Regina Architecture Club of Regina

Dear God,

What’s going on? Yeah, me too. Agra is pretty sweet hey? Not a whole lotof famous beauty made by you, no offense, but there is tons of man made wonders which I’m sure you appreciate. You kinda dropped the ball on that one. As you know we were in Darjeeling very recently, another hot india tourist destination, but a bit more of your natural scenery.
We haven’t talked in a while, even though I’m sure you brought me here. India that is, not the Maya Hotel in Agra. Round two of India has been great, but different inobvious ways. I’ve spent more time in actual India, as opposed to the semi India of Mizoram. I have also spent a little less time with Indians and a little more time with three Canadians. It has been a month and we don’t hate each other yet, so it has been alright. However in the future i’d probably redo the solo journey. I do like myself, which we need to work on too.
At supper tonight a magician came to the table and amazed the foreigners and I with some small tricks that you couild buy and amaze your friends with. It wasn’t real witchcraft magic, don’t worry, no one is in need of an exorcism. For that reason anyways (although I’m a little worried about Bonnie). But it seems that Agra especially is a town of tricks. Hotels with full staff of fluent English and French members just wanting to know where your from and if you can come to their shop for hours on end and look at their crap that you’d never buy. Rickshaw drivers who get commission for taking naive foreigners to souvenier shops and spending copious amounts of rupee on foreign goods that you could probably get at Pier 1 or le chateau. I have always had trust issues, and this place doesn’t help. Please don’t let this place damage my relationships in the trust department. And make me easy to trust, and for good reasons.
Less than one week left in India, then a week in Oman. Then Canada and after that it iswide open. I’m wide open like the Taj’s back door. Wide open like Andy Fantuz in the endzone. Wide open like my book of emotions, which you are reading right now. I’m available, use me.
Anyway, thanks for taking careof uson this trip. .Thanks for those three days of constant bum-pee and mouth-crap, killerprank. You got me good, but i’ll get you back somehow. .Talk to you soon, hopefully. Say hey to everyone in Regina. I owe you a beer or two.
In your son’s name/rock and roll ’til death,
Amen/later dude

Dear Mom,
I haven’t talked to you since I left so I figured I’d at least write something to you so that if malaria does indeed get me, you’ll at least know I made it to Kolkata.
The second roundabout Kol is much nicer than the first, so I recommend you return for a repeat tour, except with less actual ‘touring’ and more actual ‘being’…
I know that you are probably sitting at home worrying and baking cookies for a household that doesn’t appreciate baked goods, so I thought I would come up with a few reasons of why you need not worry any longer.

My Iron Stomach. Somehow yours and dads genes came together to give me less than desirable social skills and a head the size of a small beach ball, but a stomach that can handle the worst of curries. Today I had this drink off the street, all I saw was ice, lemon, water and a package or two of some green stuff. The end flavour was similar to what I think cow blood mixed with raw egg would taste like, but it wasn’t that bad. We have also enjoyed many other street foods and the worst thing that has come of it is a mild case of extreme heartburn. All about the good times.

Another reason you can put your worries to rest is because here in Kol we have had numerous legit Indians show us around. Hassle free shopping and commuting. Today we rode in at least eight different rickshows and bought tons of crap in the market. Tell Melissa that I bought her those black bangles she wanted, although a few of them broke. Tell Jerms and Kris that their VIP frenchies were purchased, and because of their incredible cut and lowerlevel support more will likely be had by the end of this trip. Our Indian friends took us to Mother Teresas place today, the tomb was open as usual, but the exhibit was closed so we only stayed a short while.

I read somewhere, or maybe I heard it in a news bulliten, that after 126 total days in a country you are almost nearly pretty much a fulltime guest resident, which is another reason you can go worry free. After Mother Teresas place today, we hit up a Bollywood cinema and saw the box office hit ‘Tashan’, and epic dancing action love-story thriller. Some was English but I even caught some of the Hindi dialogue. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, like when they had sexy dancing times in the middle of a rainstorm but the dancing was on a nice warm beach in their heads…, but that didn’t ‘stop it from being the best movie I’ve ever seen. After the movie and some shopping we headed back to Muan’s. We played cricket with some kids for a while and headed to bed. Muan woke us up at 11pm for supper, and there was no way he’d let us go back to sleep without taking our rice. He also made FrenchFries, except they were probably called IndianDeepFriedSaltedPotatoSnacksServedWithRiceAndDal or something. After the meal we went and sat ourside because it might have been .01 degree cooler outisde than inside. A drunk motorcyclist stopped by for a chat. I spoke Hindi with him and then he asked if I was Indian. He then told me I should become a movie star because I’m smart and handsome. Not so bad.

And the final and only reason you have not to worry is that tomorrow we go to Guwahati and meet Ray and Ellen. Maybe we’ll do less stupid stuff with them around, but I doubt it. It didn’t really work last time. Anyways, talk to you soon. Tell dad that I watched pingpong on TV today. Later,

love Nic

Things are coming together.