Money

“I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls, with vassals and serfs at my side.” – Alfred Brunn.

If I had been left an enormous amount of money by a rich relative…

We’ve all thought about it. Dreamers, ambitious businessmen, and even that fifth-grader who longs to be on the football field but instead is stuck in English class, where his teacher has written Essay Writing on the board.

So, what would I do in the circumstance? Well, in all honesty, none of my relatives is going to leave me any money.
To avoid deluding myself, I daydream about more possible series of events. My family investing in the Ringling Bros Circus and making a killing off of fire-breathing men and mustachio’d women. Giving water to an old woman in an act of generosity, then finding out she’s a fairy who will make diamonds and pearls fall from the heavens every time I blink. Marrying an arrogant best-selling author (who dies quickly) and living off the royalty payments from his books.

What do kids write in those essays anyway? What did I write back in third grade? There’s two approaches to this:
1. I want a big car. I want a big house. I want all the toys in the world. I want to be pretty. (immature kid)
2. I would give money to NATO, the United Nations & all the dying children in Africa. (kid trying to be mature)

Things I might want:

1. Collagen pumped into my lips to make them big and poofy? That could go both ways :/

Unsuccessful vs. Successful

2. Cosmetic surgery to make me look like a Barbie?

Barbie vs. Sarah Burge

Pictured: The forty-something ex-Bunny Girl who has spent half a million pounds having 100 cosmetic surgery operations to turn herself into a real-life Barbie.

Read about her here.

3. A fancy car?

 

Alive Car vs. Dead Car

 

I would have to spend all my time making sure nothing happened to it! I live in Pakistan. Let’s face it people. If you don’t crash your car into a pole, you’ll hit a goat, a rickshaw or even a random bicyclist who refused to get out of the way.

4. The hottest clothes?

Desultory Models

Why don’t models ever look happy?

 

Truth is, I think I’ve already got it pretty good. I mean, I’m not dying of any diseases, I’ve got food, shelter & a loving family. I am secure about my appearance, personality and faith.

This is me, whiny, unappreciative, always-wishing-for-it-to-rain-cash, saying: What is it that I’m missing out on that a whole bunch of money would change?


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