Planting rice is never fun.

Given a range of ideas, concepts and visuals, clients will often choose the most boring one.

Some friends consulted an expensive psychic once, who, after telling them the future, told them about their past lives. I've always thought it amusing how everyone seems to have been a king, a queen, an empress, a general, a tribal medicine man, priestess, courtesan, or some other glamorous historical figure. I t makes me wonder how people ate, seeing as there were no farmers, fishermen, or other kind of common folk in the past.

If reincarnation were true, I wouldn't be insulted, or even surprised to find out that I was a nobody: a footman, a groom, a gardener, a salesman in some small town. Maybe I was that guy who walked down the back streets of upper-crust residential areas at dawn in the olden days, pulling a wagon filled with urine and feces collected from the townspeople's overnight piss-pots and shit-buckets, for transport and distribution to the outlying farmlands for use as fertilizer.

That would make sense. After all, here I am centuries later, still dishing out crap.