Let thy will be done

At this point, you'd probably expect me to come clean and confess all the trouble the Bavaria's been causing. I'd gladly stir up some comedy and do exactly that, but I'd be lying. You see, other than some basic maintenance and filling 'er up, the bloody thing just won't collapse. That is if you don't count the one and only problem, which really does get on my nerves: the inanely meticulous public^, insisting on futile stuff being taken care of, like the level of shine on the rims or the one dashboard lamp not lighting up properly. And it's wholly annoying, since he'd never bother to do anything about such things. But he knows I will, because small issues like that irritate me almost as much as someone nagging about them.

Onto another subject, which seems to be a constant source of interest for me. Yup, you guessed it: women. And another one bites the dust. I really seem to have a knack for meeting beautiful and wild girls. Which isn't all that bad. And they seem to run away after a night of passion. Which should be a situation, that I, as a guy, should be glad to be in. Sex without responsibility. Fucking excellent, eh?

..But this Don Juan-attitude has its downside. It's when you wake up an inch away from this thing, which is without makeup and still drowsy, and you simply can't stop ogling, because the waking Earth has no prettier sight, well. You'd rather not let it go in a hurry. But, try as I might to hang on, she is indeed gone. And me, I've slowly began to regress to my old self, where IRC and poker take up most of my free time. This mental state sucks.

So. To spice things up, we conjured up some mischief. In Finland we have this silly reality-tv survivor-type show where some contestants line up for this single mother. Being the humorous sort of chaps, we entered me as a contestant. In a sincere manner, sure, but a few laughs was all I'd ever imagine getting out of it. I mean, me, a failed ladies man drowning in spite, contesting over a single mother. The mere self-irony of it all would be hilarious.

By now you've probably realized, that I'm not one to stand outside the proverbial room when there's a chance to go in and get kicked out. It somewhat explains my frequent involvement in terribly odd situations. And why not, at least I get some interesting stories. But seriously, how fucked up is this: I got a call from the tv-studio this morning, asking me in for a test shoot.