It's official - no more emails to Mark Cuban

After much thought and a little bit of inside information, I have decided that I don’t need to email Mark Cuban any more. Am I chicken? You ask. Or maybe a bit stupid? Yes, I realize that I did manage to get acknowledgement from some one with significant influence in an industry that I am, some might say desperately, attempting to break into. But if you read what I said, or more accurately, what I wrote. It was along the lines of “I don’t need to email” him any more. I fully intend to continue communicating with him. What spurred this change of tactics? Was I able to get his cell phone number from one of my many friends in the telecom industry that know a great deal about obtaining call detail records from the switch? Am I planning on moving to Dallas with a big thermos, a pair of binoculars and months supply of Depends? Of course not, I can get the phone records from the internet and I’ve already had the pleasure of living in the Metroplex. From our fully-furnished corporate apartment, we had a lovely view of the North Dallas tollway and the George H. W. Bush tollway. By the way, what is up with all the taxes in Texas? They have an 8% sales tax, a State Income Tax and toll roads? No wonder Bush and Cheney want to make the Federal Tax Cuts permanent. I could go on and on, but I already have. I am just going to continue blogging. He’s reading this. He’s has to be, just like you. It may not be something you think you want to do. But now that you started reading, you just can’t stop. What can I say, this stuff is addicting. It’s a gift, well a curse really. Now I am a prisoner of entertaining the mass (soon to be masses). In anticipation of my humble self being thrust into the over-crowded arena of pseudo-celebrity, I already purchased a pair ultra-sheek titanium sport Maui Jim's and planned my escape routes to avoid the throng of paparazzi that are lying in wait to catch a snap of me at a very inopportune moment. I know they are, since I saw a "shout out" to me as an up-and-comer in my latest edition of Celebrity Stalking Monthly. My friend Keren (yes I meant to spell that with an “e” not an “a”) hooked me up with that one. Okay, so that was a personalized joke for some one that will probably never read this – but if you knew the context, you’d be laughing your bondo off right now. If you don’t know what a bondo is, then you don’t know my son. Maybe I should move to California where they really know how to push through important legislation that concerns the overall public well being rather than serve a very, very, very small subset of very, very well-to-do individuals. There I go again, rambling. Did I make my point? Did I have a point? Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.