Plans For the Future.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and decided that this whole college thing is just not working out for me. Let all those other chumps get an education. Me, I’ve got a fool-proof plan for the rest of my life.

I figure all I have to do is drop out of school and befriend an extremely rich old woman. She’ll be impressed by my worldliness (after all, I’ve been to Canada), and knowledge of cooking (I make a Hell of a Steuffer’s macaroni dinner). No “funny” stuff, though, I’ll draw the line at the occasional foot-rub.

After Richey McOld finally croaks, she’ll leave all her money to me, since I’ll have been the only ray of sunshine in her cold, lonely life. (Any other possible rays of sunshine will be strategically removed by me and an as-of-yet indetermined length of lead pipe.)

Anyway, there I’ll be, with a boat-load of free money and my whole life ahead of me, while everybody else my age wastes away at University for a decade. I’ll make some wise investment choices (That “Enron” company seems to be in the news a lot) and soon surpass Bill Gates as both the richest and evil-est man in the world.

In the mean-time, I’ll marry a Swedish super-model who’s only in it for the money, and build a manor that will cover the entire state of Wyoming. Any current residents of Wyoming will be bred as free-range livestock, and exported to every corner of the world. We will have numerous children, which I will give fancy names like Frederick and Worthington. I will have a Corvette for every day of the week, and a rocket-powered limousine for formal occasions. Presidential luncheons will be traveled to by means of my own personal zepplin, the Tyrant.

Eventually I will realize that the puny American government is no match for my superior strength. I will secretly gather together an unstoppable army of Robotic Monkey Butlers and Ninja-Acrobats, and release a terror as of yet unkown upon the world.

My reign will be supreme and unquestioned, until a rag-tag group of misfits gathers together to rebel against me. I will slaughter them like a wolf among lambs. Then my reign will be supreme, unquestioned and bloody.

After a time a wandering carnie will convert me to a radical sect of Dwarfism, and I will give all of my posessions and money to the Church of the Bronze Tattoo I will then wander off into the desert proclaiming the wisdom of the great prophet Garee Coelmann. I will never be heard from again, but will be the focus of numerous urban legends, mainly involving Bigfoot and Backyard Wrestling.

What are your plans for the future?

2

Well, I was going to move to Wyoming, but I think I’ll scrap that.

3

I try not to plan too far ahead. Right now, I’m trying to decide what to have for dinner. And I think I’ll wax my car tomorrow.

4

I’m going to be a rock star. Yup, you heard it here first, folks!

5

Jester, your plan involves way too much work. I plan merely to win the lottery.

6

Becoming a Crazy Cat Lady™ is looking more and more likely these days. :wink:

7

Me, I’m just looking for a sugar daddy who’ll patronize my odd habits and not want too much from me in return.

Or to be the world’s biggest collector of Velvet Elvis’ (Elvii?? Whatever).

Either way is fine.

8

I plan to become sort of an internet Mark Twin, so well loved for my sharp wit and folksy wisdom that SDMB Members will spontaneously and without prompting send me large amounts of money in appreciation. Like Cecil, but without the discipline to either write a column or do actual research, or have a job or an employer. I suppose being a benign cult figure would fill the bill nicely, so long as my acolytes can sustain my reasonably modest lifestyle.

I will appear at Dope Fests and have my pick of Doper women, the straight ones at least. Even some of the lesbians will be enchanted by my near-perfect imitation of a giant dildo.

That is all.

9

I shall call you Eduardo. Wait, no. Priapus.

10

DeadlyAccurate, you should still move to Wyoming. You’d fetch a hefty price on the open market.

FCM, just make sure you don’t mix up the two tasks, and end up having car wax souffle for dinner. It’s surprisingly less tasty than it sounds. (And couldn’t you just get ThePerfectChild[sup]tm[/sup] to do it in order to make up for waking you up?)

Rock on, Eowne. Rock on.

White Lightning, if you do ever win the lottery, give me a call. After all, you’ll probably be pretty lonely, and you’ll need a good friend around.

Serendipity, how can you tell if the cats are actually crazy, or just pretending?

Lsura, I believe the correct term is Elviolii.

yojimboguy, that would certainly be interesting to see. But never show me. Ever.

iampunha, why not go for the best of both worlds, and name him Priapo? No decision-making necessary.