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I Want To Be A Millionaire So Freakin’ Bad

“The rich are different from you and me.” F. Scott Fitzgerald was right. They get to do things most of us don’t and it’s not fair..

I try to figure out how I’m going to get my whole famly jammed into my Nissan, with 200,000 miles, and make it 500 miles to the beach. I worry, because of the close quarters my oldest son will eat the face of my youngest daughter just because she’s annoying and makes us listen to too much Ke$ha.

The rich, they don’t worry about the old Nissan, they contact  private jet companies and book round trip flights on sweet looking and luxuriously appointed planes.  There’s so much room brothers and sisters don’t even have to sit next to each other. Hell, they don’t even have to look at each other.

And then according to the crazy rich people web page they do things like (and once again, I promise I’m not making this up) They intentionally take part in a Covert Ops Boot Camp, they wear camo, cover their faces and pretend to be soldiers.

 ” You will be taken to a secret training base somewhere in Arizona, where a hand-picked cadre of Green Berets and private soldiers of fortune from the world’s toughest spec ops units will teach you all the actual skills needed for this operation…and to stay alive.”

They jump out of airplanes then swim with great white sharks. Rich folks take their kids to surf camp in Australia then have dinner with an Aborigines family and learn to play the didgeridoo.

Those rich people, they do some crazy awesome stuff and I hope one of my children figures out how to make a bunch of money so we can meet them on the Great Barrier Reef and swim with the giant manta rays in the moonlight.

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