I’m in Vegas right now attend­ing three sem­i­nars back to back. I’ve been here for close to three weeks now, and we’re about to return home tomor­row. This explains why I haven’t blogged in a while.

While here, we’re look­ing at some prop­er­ties. We want to buy a vaca­tion home, espe­cially dur­ing those cold win­ter months in Canada. (I think we found our home.)

But last week, my wife took me to see George Car­lin at the Orleans Casino as my Father’s Day gift. It was a great show. George was fun­nier than ever. Still raw, caus­tic, and rant­ing at 71, he cer­tainly hasn’t lost his touch.

Well, just a few moments ago I’ve learned that we, how­ever, lost him.

When I learned about it, I was speech­less. We just saw him a few days ago! I guess we caught one of his last shows if not his last. The fun­ni­est part of this? His show included jokes about dying and the afterlife.

Rest in peace, George Car­lin. We’ll miss you.

Oh, boy, am I angry.

I was in Vegas last week­end speak­ing at Carl Galletti’s Inter­net Mar­ket­ing Super­con­fer­ence — click here to see the pic­tures. We had a blast! Sylvie and I went to see Le Rève (“The Dream,” by the Cirque du Soleil) at the Wynn. Absolutely a fab­u­lous show!

We also had time to tour the “strip” and even checked out a live band and danced on the rooftop (52nd floor) at the Rio hotel, over­look­ing Las Vegas’ skyline.

And I danced so much that my clothes were com­pletely drenched! There were Sylvie and I, Mike Fil­saime and his wife, Mark Braun­stein, Stir­ling Valen­tine, Mike’s assis­tant Michelle, Donna Fox and a few others.

Now, you’re prob­a­bly won­der­ing why I’m angry…

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The last two weeks have been nuts. So I haven’t had the chance to post much. After writ­ing Frank Kern’s saleslet­ter for his big Under­achiever Mas­tery launch last Sun­day work­ing almost the entire time while at Stephen Pierce’s sem­i­nar in Detroit, bar­ri­cad­ing myself in my hotel room, it’s been more than crazy.

It’s been insane!

In fact, I promised a friend of mine in Wind­sor (Rick Beneteau) to visit him while down there, but Frank’s let­ter was such a huge affair, I had no choice. I was stuck. And now, I’m exhausted. (And that doesn’t count the fact that I’m writ­ing two other big projects — one for John Reese, and another for Armand Morin.

But now that the big­ger dust has set­tled, let’s roll.

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