I have surfed the clear waters of the Caribbean.
I have watched the sun rise above Angkor Wat.
I have taken magic mushrooms and laughed for six straight hours as I snowshoed atop frozen inland rivers, like some sort of hallucinogenic false prophet, by the Rocky Mountains in winter.
I have been deep-throated, all the way down, and had every last drop swallowed.
I have performed onstage at stand-up comedy clubs and made a roomful of paying strangers laugh at things I said.
I have looked deep into a beautiful girl's eyes and known, in my bottom of my heart, that there is no place on earth -- in history -- where I'd rather be.
And yet, I can't think of anything that makes me happier than seeing Ricky Ponting get out for 99 in a losing match.
I really can't.