I'm one cool cat and the readers of the respected dailies agree. Fine folks are always buying me drinks, fancy meals, and valuable properties around the world in transparent attempts to receive the gilded invitations to my trend-setting gatherings. Is it any wonder? They're the gold standard upon which all other Dionysian extravagances are judged; where only the finest wines, spirits, and brews are served. And that's not even going into describing the hundreds of different hors d'oeuvres and imported cheeses from France or the hummus and other regional delights flown fresh straight from, perhaps, the east Mediterranean, the finest fresh sushi and sashimi prepared on the spot by Yoshie, arguably the premier sushi chef in all the world. I mean, damn! It's mad crazy luxury, yo! And then there are all the top international DJ's spinning their wax. I don't know their names though. I've got my team of liaisons for that grunt work. Half of the world's major entertainment and business deals are hatched and sealed at my happening shindigs. Heads of state and evil industrialists gather to decide who next to exploit as cheap labor. It's better than the Black Sun! And to top it all off we get REAL sword fights. I'm the lord of globalization! Che Guevara never stood a chance.