It was with high hopes that I proceeded to McLeodganj. I was sure this would be it. Some random yellow-and-maroon clad monk would no doubt recognize me as the first of a new series of Lamas - "Super" Lama perhaps, or even "Caustic" Lama, as The Reader suggested. I would vex China with my measured doses of sarcasm and there would be world peace.
Alas, it appears my inner Lama has abdicated: eloped with the 6 Martini sisters: Dirty, Dry, Lychee, Peacock, Pomegranate and Concrete Floor.
HH Dalai is nowhere in sight, and I was told in a "vision" that he is keeping a safe distance from my karma. The vision may or may not have involved the Martinis, some large G+T's and a whopper of a check.
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