I plan to double my income by 35, halve my cholesterol by 40, and triple my income by slipping my photograph into the wallets of rich amnesiacs.
I will never forget that fortune favors the prepared, or that it seldom favors the wearer of cast-iron hip waders.
I plan to invent H2SOB: Sulphuric Asshole.
My mantra shall be: Lives there a man with soul so dead / He never to himself hath said / I wish I had a second head / So I could drink two beers in bed?
I will never sleep with a woman who has more troubles than my own. Or with a woman who has more cats than my high school guidance counselor.
For life isn’t about who’s got the most money, it’s about who’s got the most friends with money.
I will ask not for whom the bell tolls. Or to whom the lost beheading sword belongs.
I plan to be tireless in the defense of liberty, shameless in the defense of justice, and pointless in the defense of raccoon jodhpurs.
I will never forget that freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. And “a bear eating your arms and legs” is seven words for nothing left to lose.
I intend to pursue the question: what if it was Antlantis, and we haven’t found it because it’s real small?
Who steals my purse steals trash. Who steals my good name… could we arrange for a private trade with my trashy purse, no questions asked?
I will not learn the flute, because they’re made of silver but they’re woodwinds. I just can’t get with that kind of crazy.
I plan to always have two girlfriends, so I’ve still got one left when the other one finds out and leaves me.
I will proclaim to all who ask that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, but the rural bus drivership is to the inexplicably hairy.
At the end of life’s parade I will not go gentle into that good night. I plan to kick my pallbearers in the nuts.
