All About Eve

It's all about Me, not Eve, but Me. My friends, God bless 'em, they want details, all the sordid lurid details not fit to print from the past 3 months. The juicy, inflammatory and provocative tidbits that would turn my average reader to stone and my future chances at sailing again, nil, nix and nada. Isn't explaining the climb to the top of the Great Wall and walking under a Venezuela waterfalls enough? "Oh Come on Sony, tell us, was the Captain cute, did you score with a native, did all those pubescent college kids drive you crazy? It's called the 'Voyage of Discovery' for a reason, right?" It' true that in India, I saw plenty of erotic sculptures of regal maharajas with oversized genitals cavorting with naked nymphs. In Japan I saw titillating covers of cartoon anime porn (called hentai) outselling sushi. In Brazil, one of the most liberal countries I've ever been in, it's all about the Bunda - that's Portuguese for derrière. And in the burgeoning tourism industry of Vietnam, message parlors akin to brothels cater to every businessman's dirtiest desire. I'm sorry all my kinky friends but Sony was a Saint on this trip and the only flesh flashed was by mistake - when Cabin Boy walked in on my shower! Dirty rascal. That's not to say vice was not enjoyed by some - ask the students and I'm sure you'll get a much different response. Time now for Chronicles of Narnia - the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - that's a threesome, isn't it?