You are a Fucking Rockstar and I am as proud as your father.

I have a friend. His name is Rich! Mulholland, and its spelt just like that
– with an Exclamation mark.

I’m sure that one day, my epitaph I could read “I knew Rich Mulholland” and
people would think I was cool, too. He has gone places. He is going places
and I’m strangely proud – like his father.

Rich! Is one of those friends I may see twice or 3 times a year and every
evening is awash with foul language, brilliant ideas on how to make and
spend money and me always criticizing him for buying the ugliest car on the
road (even if it’s a Porsche). But you see it’s not important that he
“wastes” his money on toys and travel as he lives life as though tomorrows
pay cheque is in the post. Rich! Is one of those boys that will make money regardless of what he does,
because people will throw money at personality and drive. We all want what
he has. And he has bucket loads.

How much would you pay for that kind of energy and enthusiasm?

Tonight was no different. Between grabbing his girlfriends boob at the
dinner table and downing what looked like a litre of milk, I read between
the lines and saw, again, a brilliant mind that has not rested in years. A
mind that is hungry for knowledge that excites his being. He gets excited
about his ideas and dominates the discussion. I have to rudely tell him to
shut up and ask his GF what’s news in her life. How does she put up with
him? It’s admirable.

So many plans, schemes and plays ahead. Each one viable, noble businesses
plan. Each one more fun than the next and each one a rung on the ladder to
rock-stardom! He is a rock star without the guitar, but his voice is his
instrument and his mind the drum solo.

As he pulls away with his limited edition Vespa, girlfriend clinging on for
life, I imagine what lies ahead of him, hoping he won’t forget the little
people that told him not to worry about spending the few thousand Rands on a
house a few years ago, when he now makes that per hour.

Thanks for dinner and the million ideas I won’t remember when I awake
tomorrow morning.

Rock on you porn star!

Spillly.

Ps. you better RTweet this shit out of this, I need new followers.