Seal breaks into home, terrorizes cat.

What do harbor seals, male genitalia and Medusa all have in common? SEAL BREAKS INTO HOME, TERRORIZES CAT. Just a quick reminder... The doors will be closing on my new writing course, [RAITĀ]( in just 24 short hours. This isn't some slick marketing ploy to get you to buy... nor is it me creating a false sense of urgency that isn't there. The urgency is very much so there, I don't have to create it. The class will be taught in real-time which means the magic will happen in real-time and like every good wizard knows, you have to know when to start the magic show otherwise all the magic will be gone before the show and you'll be left walking around with a limp wand. So, all that to say, if you want to be a part of the magic, you better shit or get off the pot before 9 a.m. CDT on Monday, August 22nd. Doors will be closing at 8:59 a.m. Then a minute later, the magic will start. No exceptions. Now for today's newsletter... Yesterday, I was scrolling through Twitter when the algorithm fed me a news piece about a Harbor Seal living in New Zealand who broke into a suburban home, terrorized the resident cat, barked at the family and then tried to make a run for it out the doggy door but was lassoed by a ranger who returned the slippery bandit to sea. I didn't realize how much I needed that story until I read it. There's a lot of bad news going around these days and while it's important to be aware of it, we can't allow all the sourness to let us forget how much good, clean humor is constantly happening around us. So, all that to say, I'm going to tell you about the other day when I walked in on a man shaving what appeared to be the underside of his balls in a mirror the size of a flat-screen television. I've been to a lot of bathhouses: Russian, Turkish, good ole fashion American, you name it. And, an unspoken code at all bathhouses –– at least every bathhouse that I've ever been to –– is that you either 1). wear a pair of trunks or 2). tuck your towel nice and taut around your waist. The reason that this code is upheld is because nobody wants to sit where another man's sweaty bare ass and balls have just sat and because, well, us men are a hell of a lot shier than we let on. Now, every once in a while at Russian, Turkish and American bathhouses you get a bastard with a cock the size of a Pringle's can that wants to make everyone else in the bathhouse feel like shit who will trudge around stark naked with his towel thrown over his shoulder. I heard a story of this happening once at a Russian bathhouse that I frequent in Chicago. I wasn't there. But, apparently, some guy was walking around buck naked in a bathhouse filled with three or four dozen Russians who were all sporting trunks and towels. Somebody who was an acquaintance of the guy thought he was being properly arrogant and he told him so. The next thing everybody knows, the two were duking it out in a 190-degree dry sauna. If you've ever stepped foot into a Russian sauna, you know the fight couldn't have lasted long. You try and play so much as checkers in one of those ovens and you'll suffer heatstroke. A few days, I went to a Japanese Bathhouse here in Tokyo and was instructed to cover up my tattoos with flesh-covered patches so as not to offend any of the guests. Tattoos in Japan scream Yakuza and they possess a connotation here that is at best, tolerated, and at worst, openly despised. So, here I am in this bathhouse pasting twelve flesh-colored patches to my arms, shoulders and chest and by the end of it, my patching job looks more offensive than my tattoos. Now, before I continue the rest of this story, it's important that I make you aware of the fact that the Japanese have a very open policy when it comes to bathing. Nobody (and I mean nobody) would ever think to slip into a pair of trunks here nor wrap a towel around their waist. At first, it's a bit jarring. But, when you get used to it, you kind of feel like Adam in the Garden of Eden before Eve got sold a real clunker from Mr. Snake. At the time of this story, I wasn't yet totally aware of just how open bathing culture was in Japan. So, I walked out of the locker room into the room that houses the community tub, happy as a bird about to get a bath. But, when I opened the door expecting to see a steamy oasis, I instead saw a man sitting on a stool hovering about ten inches off the ground, naked from head to toe, his right leg pointed to the sky, running what appeared to be a razor along his gooch. While he wasn't facing me, he was facing a community mirror the size of a flat screen that was facing me and I got a full picture, high-definition view of his landscaping job. I felt like the poor sonofabitch in Clash of the Titans that turned the corner thinking he was in the clear and then suddenly found himself face to face with Medusa. It was here that I truly understood culture shock. The Japanese find tattoos offensive. They find them about as offensive as we Americans find grown men shaving their balls in a community mirror. Perhaps our two cultures can find a way to one day meet somewhere in the middle. Jokes aside, while I could do without the public landscaping jobs, it's been refreshing to be a part of a culture that is so accepting of their bodies; no matter the shape, age, level of fitness or form. Cheers, Cole P.S. If this is your first time receiving this newsletter (because someone forwarded it to you) you can get it weekly by subscribing at the pretty black button down below 👇🏾 [Enroll in RAITĀ.]( YOU'VE GOT JUST 24-HOURS LEFT TO ENROLL IN RAITĀ... [RAITĀ]( is a writing course inspired by Japan that I will be teaching from Japan. Starting Monday, August 22nd we will explore the writings, teachings and philosophies of ancient Japan as we stretch our writing styles and perspectives. It will be taught entirely via email and it will require no more than an hour of your time each day to complete. Better yet, unlike [Don't Break The Chain]( which cost $297, you can enroll in [RAITĀ]( for as little as $67. If you're at all interested, you can learn more about the course at the black button down below. Just don't be late. Class starts in just 24 hours. [Enroll in RAITĀ.]( THE VERY HUMAN URGE TO THROW IT ALL AWAY. There’s this scene in The Dark Knight where The Joker –– played by the late, great Heath Ledger –– is standing outside a hospital dressed in Nurse’s garb, violently tapping the red button on a detonator that won’t seem to detonate. Finally, it sets off an explosion, sending a hell fury into the sky and the startled Joker scurrying out of shot, in an awkward gate that looks like a sand crab evading a Seagull. I shit you not, once a week, I’m The Joker and the hospital is my life. My pointed finger hovers above the button, flirting with the idea of throwing it all away: the poetry books, the courses, the advertising business, the house, everything. The urge to self-destruct, to self-sabotage, is a very human desire and it happens... [Bombs away.]( THE QUALITY OF YOUR WORK COMPOUNDS AT THE RATE IN WHICH YOU CARE. I read today that there is a superstition among Arabs, that a meal prepared for a lover can become poisonous if eaten by someone else. While I don’t pay much mind to superstitions of any kind, I do believe the intention, care and love we place into our work can be felt by those that witness it upon completion. The Greeks have a word for this. It’s called “Meraki” and it’s described as the act of an artist or craftsman leaving a part of himself behind in his work. I have this magical word tattooed on the... [This is gonna hurt.]( Copyright © 2022 Honey Copy, All rights reserved. A while back you opted into a weekly email called "Sticky Notes". Remember? If not, you can always unsubscribe below... and risk breaking this writer's heart. Our mailing address is: Honey Copy 3116 N. Central Park Unit #1Chicago, IL 60618 [Add us to your address book]( Want to change how you receive these emails? You can [update your preferences]( or [unsubscribe from this list](.