When I am I rich I will eat sausage every day. Who will dare to stop me? I will eat Jimmy Dean breakfast sausages every morning, the kind flavored with maple syrup. I will consume bratwurst and Polish sausage and cheese Wranglers. I will nestle my sausages in only the finest buns, baked fresh daily, and I will dip them in Heinz ketchup from those nifty glass bottles. Sure, plastic squeeze bottles are more convenient, but I will be so rich that I will be able to hire someone to pour my ketchup for me. "How is that one man eats so much sausage?" people will ask one another, their brows furrowed with the effort of unraveling the mystery.

When I am rich I will breathe better air. Why should I have to breathe common air stinking of common people and their cheap cologne and beer farts? I will breathe air imported at ridiculous expense from a mountaintop in Switzerland, from a glacier in Iceland, from a tulip field in Holland. People who made fun of me in high school will write me long letters asking my forgiveness for their foolishness and begging to breathe for just a few moments the fresh, fragrant air that rich people like me take for granted.

When I am rich my shit will no longer stink. I will have radical surgery performed on my bowels so that my excrement will issue forth in perfectly-formed white cylinders lightly redolent of peaches or dogwood blossoms. My bowel movements will be filmed live as they emerge from my anus and the images will be broadcast on all the major networks, as well as CNN and Fox News. Beautiful women will offer me sexual favors in exchange for a few grams of stool to wear as perfume to society events.

I can't wait to be rich.

+posted by Lawrence @ 8/27/2003 04:29:00 PM