Over leather boiled and mail oiled,
Rooted I stand with sword gleaming.
Eyes squinted, tuned for battle,
Scanning, searching for demons teaming.
As I wait at ready my arms grow heavy,
The foes revealed are not but shadows,
And damsels ephemeral, undeserving.
It really sunk in when I was sitting in the Prague airport. With wormwood toxins seizing at my muscles and a pounding headache from the 9 shots of absinthe the night before, I was staring at an indefinite flight delay.Read more
Forget about the white hair, the white robes, and don’t even think about anything having do to with Keanu Reaves and a phone booth time-machine.Read more
AUBREY MARCUS PODCAST