“A billionaire’s joke is always funny.” – Fortune Cookie From A Crappy Chinese Restaurant
This will be my final blog post.
You see, Carlo and I bought five Powerball tickets and after the drawing tonight we will undoubtedly have a bank account with a balance of almost half a billion dollars (after fees and taxes, of course). I’ve been reading The Secret and working on my manifestations, so it’s done. The money is ours.
It has been fun, it’s been real, but I am afraid that most of you will never hear from me again. The closest you will get to personal interaction going forward will be the tawdry pics you see on the gossip sites of me, Carlo, hot naked young men, and an aging Paris Hilton rowdily taking over a hot tub in Aspen much to the chagrin of the property’s management. Or when I get out of the limo not wearing any panties. Again.
We’ve already planned our new life.
We have mapped out exactly how much each parent, each sibling, and each close friend will be getting as part of our fortuitous cash windfall. Inevitably, it won’t be enough. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll be happy, but one must imagine (see, I’m already talking like a wealthy person) that there will be the inevitable whispers, “Really? Only ONE million?”
We’ve planned where we will be living and what kinds of cars we will be driving to these new locations. Carlo and I will definitely have a place here in New Orleans. Is Brad and Angelina’s old mansion up for sale again? We will also get a house on a lake.
This is an example - not our actual house (but I would buy this one btw).
I’ve always dreamed of owning a lake house – a big and beautiful home that overlooks the water complete with its own dock and, of course, a pool. I want a pool because I do not want to swim in the lake – at all. Ever since I was a child and felt the seaweed against my legs, I have pictured accidentally getting tangled up in the slimy growth and then bumping up against a dead body under the water. So, no. Give me chlorine.
Carlo has already picked out his Porsche – the model, the color, everything. My car will be a fully loaded, top of the line, MINI VAN. You laugh, but is there a more luxurious automobile than a mini van? You say, “soccer mom” but I say, “love machine with a button that opens the side doors.” We will also keep Sophia, our 2013 Corolla that we love. She will be what I use to scoot around town because it will be the only vehicle I am allowed to smoke in.
Sophia - the best damn car a guy could ask for (smoke friendly).
When a regular person buys a lottery ticket we begin to dream. Whatever our current circumstances, each and every one of us puts that aside for a few minutes and starts to imagine our new life. When you think about it, it really is kind of fun, and truly harmless to think of what could be if we weren’t saddled with debt, if we could finally travel the way we’ve always wanted, and if we could truly help other people.
And, of course, there are those out there that say, “Hey! Money CANNOT buy you happiness!” and “More money, MORE PROBLEMS.” And they may be absolutely right. Perhaps having more wealth than a person like me could ever imagine WOULD be difficult. Maybe my life WOULD change in many unpredictable and not necessarily good ways. Perhaps I WOULD become an unrecognizable version of myself - the type of elite snob I’ve always hated who is completely self-absorbed and awash in material pleasures. Perhaps. And believe me, I am absolutely ashamed of the fact that I am aware of this and the only response I have is, “YES PLEASE GIVE IT ALL TO ME.”
I do wish all of you the best in life. I really do. Remember that true happiness comes from within and not from things and all that other stuff people tell the peasants so that they don’t burn the whole kingdom down. I’ll think of you while on my yacht. I’ll speak of you to the guests at our annual star-studded Christmas bash. And I will, of course, forever hold you in the heart that beats under my unbelievably expensive tailored clothing.
It’s good to dream.
