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Pastimes : FLAME THREAD - Post all obnoxious/derogatory comments here -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Blue On Black who wrote (7689)	11/10/1999 10:27:00 PM
From: Solon	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 12754

There was much chaos....and then there was Nothing. Even now, parts of me are experiencing nothingness. I have yet to figure out how to apply it to trading. It needs more research...but I really, really dread it. Lee, you are giving far too much dignity to "nothingness". It is nothing to be feared. Let me explain. It had been a bad year for me for a lot of reasons. I had not played much tennis due to back pain; and the last two matches I had lost because of something--back pain. I knew I had to re-acquaint myself with nothing. When my brother phoned to say he was coming over for a game, I knew I had to connect with my muse. So I remembered... When he arrived, he was greeted by a man with a red nose and a clown suit. "Today", I told him, "you are going to be beaten by a clown". After a quick dusting of vodka, the match was underway. He never had a chance. I kept putting nothing on my shots and it was too too much for him. Later we visited my older brother who owns a hotel. I saw nothing wrong with appearing in public with nothing but a clown suit on. There is nothing wrong with clown clothing. And so began a hazy evening in the life of a clown. Eventually it was three in the morning. Nothing had really happened; or if it had...it already had, and was forgotten. I fell into my bed covered with meatballs. I vaguely remembered being given a 12 inch sub for the price of a six inch--due to the charm with which a clown is able to flatter young ladies after a sufficient amount of vodka. I told her "thank you"; she said it was nothing. I have never seen so many meatballs. I woke and grabbed a couple of aspirin and walked a couple of hours in the park. Then I looked in the mirror before work, and reflected bitterly on the sad and poignant life of a clown. My wallet was short a couple of c-notes, and I was short 24 hours of memory. The life of a clown...it's not what it's cracked up to be. I had experienced another day in the life of a clown: perhaps not all clowns; but certainly some. It was sad, dismal, and pathetic certainly--but not to the degree it is vaunted to me. I should have stayed home and done nothing...