So, what's do I do for a living? Funny you should ask...
Well, after being a pornstar for several years my Chief Mechanic talked me into quitting after I won the Indy 500. The gold medal I won in Platform Diving at the Munich Olypics had to be returned when I tested positive for speedo-enhancing substances. This did not deter me from pursuing a brief acting career (where I got to portray myself as a budding Ad Executive who loses his appendix in a Supermarket produce aisle accident).
During a particularily nasty scene involving tanks and rabbits (filmed on location inside an Iranian Nightclub) I met my first wife. She was so charming in her high-heels and fatigues that we just knew we were right for each other! I had never met anyone as beautiful as her (her name rhymed with "orange"!), that is until we were on our honeymoon on a houseboat in Kenya and out of nowhere this angel appears carrying a roll of quarters and a sponge. I was so taken in by her red mohawk and tatoo of twinkies on her forhead (she's a dolphin trainer you see) that I completely forgot for a moment who and where I was! Now I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but I flew with her that night to Ancorage Alaska where we got married under the moonlight in an "Au Natural" ceremony. Imagine my surprise the next week when we're in a bank in Switzerland (I keep my prized collection of stamps depicting various forms of cheese there) and her sister shows up - AND she turns out to be my other wife! Well, let's just say that Yasir gets a friendlier welcome from Israel than I did! You'd think that she'd be glad to see me! I'm still trying to figure out where she learned to perform a "Cherry Turnover Circus" wedgie like that...
Good thing that the first person I ran into happened to be a gorgeous vacationing Astro-Physcist who works at NASA (she was younger than me which explains why I don't remember seeing her there when I was performing post-graduate studies involving weak gravity, rubbing alcohol and large bodies of fruit). Turns out that she had heard of me from her father who was the head of a large pharmaceuticals company (I met him at a conference of retired honarary military officers where we held a focus group on the problem of global seaweed), together we discovered a cure for intestinal cramps. Talk about your life imitating art!
Let's see where was I... oh yeah, Tibet. Anyway, one day, when I stopped by this nice old ladies house to paint her poodle (she was such a dear! who would have expected her to have once been male and the Queen of England's pet camel?), I was suddenly struck with an idea of how to replace the felt used on pool tables with a soy-based material! I'm SURE you've heard of my creation (I called it "Hangtite") and used it to start my International company called Dwarf Bovines, Inc. After milking it for all it was worth I sold the company to Fidel Castro for a handful of cocktail napkins and some bikini wax and moved out of Cambodia for good.
Ah! Back in the States! How I remember the sweet smells of bowling, hang gliding and aardvark cavier! To pass the time I accepted a position as head of the Church for Dimpled Golf Balls but living in Alburquerque and driving to Toledo each Tuesday at 3:31am to lead the services and perform Tip Toe Thru The Tulips using nothing but an old surfboard and cotton candy lost it's exhilaration after the third year. This, of course, led me back to Podiatry and Wall Street.
There's just nothing like tackling the crossword puzzle in the New York times on a snowy day in June! Reminds me of when I solved division by zero during my days as the janitor on a Nigerian submarine (it really wasn't that difficult either once I had arrived at an exact value for pi).
But, this is where my tale turns sad... Shortly after returning from my undercover CIA station post hidden in a Swedish Tanning Salon, I was detained by Syrian authorities disguised as loaves of raisan bread in Siberia and charged with illegal possesion of a sacred string of dental floss alegedly used by Joan of Arc after the battle of yogurt in Perth Australia. Clearly a case of mistaken identity! Besides it was actually just an old matress spring that I keep with me just in case. You can imagine my surprise when I was sentenced to four years in a sleazy motel room on the outskirts of Nova Scotia! (Or was it Pittsburgh?) Even my considerable experience as a Magistrate and Unicyclist in New Deli wasn't enough to win my freedom. The saddest part was that I only had one visitor the whole time and that was my ex-wife (not sure which one though - she was wearing a different watch, you know, one of those new ones where the hands go backwards on purpose?). Of course, she was only there because, back when we were kids we both went to support a local effort called "The Grass is Always Greener" where we would color someones lawn blade by blade. I must admit that she was finally able to fulfill the promise that she had made to her poor dying Aunt's friend's mother's gardner's stepdad and, boy! I have NEVER had a better Peanut Butter and Mayo Omellette in my life! (With anchovies, of course!) On second thought, the motel's digital cable didn't get the Hamster Shaving channel (ok, it wasn't free so I had to watch it all scrambled) so that was probably the worst thing.
I was released a couple of days early on the condition that I provide a community service to some poor musically oriented gear-heads that seriously need vacations so I joined this forum.