I hate billionaires because they have so much money that’d they’d never miss a puny million dollars, and yet not a single one of them has ever had the common decency to give this totally unmissed million dollars to me. It would be like me giving someone a nickel. Would it have any effect at all on my financial situation? No, none whatsoever. I would give a perfect stranger on the street a nickel if he asked for it, as long as he mowed my lawn or something. And that is why I hate all billionaires and am a hundred times better than they are.

Generally speaking, billionaires are just a big, ugly bunch of asshats. If you do an image search for them, they all look like nerds. In fact, several of them look like total, blithering dickheads. Check out the puss on Bill Gates sometime–he looks like girls used to beat him up in high school. And Carlos Slim Helú? He makes Captain Kangaroo look like Fernando Lamas.

Billionaire-industrialist Lakshmi Mittal, who is worth a whopping $32,000,000,000 according to Forbes magazine, looks like some dork with B.O. that you wouldn’t even buy a series of “Get Rich Quick in Real Estate” videos from if you saw him on an infomercial. If I ever ran into Lakshmi Mittal in real life, I’d kick him in the balls.

If I were to ever meet Donald Trump, I’d point and say, “Hey, Donny-Boy, what’s with the hair? Did some squirrels build a nest on your head? HYUK, HYUK!” Of course, he’d probably just order his bodyguards to beat me to a bloody pulp and hurl me into a dumpster, but my point would’ve been made. Donald Trump would henceforth know that he had funny-looking hair, and all the billions of dollars in the world would never erase his memory of me pointing at him and saying, “Hey, Donny-Boy, what’s with the hair?” and he would order his hairstylist to work in a chicken-processing plant in Utah for the rest of his life.

Of course, the bad thing about this is that billionaires can simply wave their hands like magicians, and suddenly the magic of money turns their slightest whim into a reality. So if you make a billionaire mad by taunting him or telling him how goofy-looking he really is, he can have you wiped out of existence merely by moving his pinky. Have you ever heard of Lancelot “Biff” Feldman? No, you haven’t, because one day Lancelot “Biff” Feldman told billionaire Warren Buffett (net worth approx. $52.B) that he looked like he just got finished having oral sex with a diseased water buffalo, and Warren Buffet did the “billionaire pinky wave”, and suddenly Lancelot “Biff” Feldman no longer existed. Even his high school yearbook photo has been replaced by one of those jokey little cartoons that says “Oops–camera shy!” and his own kids think he was abducted by Jabba the Hut.

You can’t even sneak up on them, either, because they hire entire teams of former military intelligence agents just to keep members of the general public from sneaking up on them. One day I tried to sneak up on Ingvar Kamprad ($33.B) and hold two fingers behind his head to make it look like he had bunny ears, and ended up spending six months in a sensory-deprivation tank in the Phillipines. When I finally got out, I thought I was Boris Karloff for two weeks. And when I eventually came back to my senses enough to be able to sneak up on people again, Ingvar Kamprad was throwing a $50,000,000 birthday bash for himself in the Bahamas with Elvis Presley and Jim Morrison singing “Happy Birthday, Mr. Wonderful” to him while Oprah Winfrey sat on his face.

So naturally, I hope there aren’t any billionaires reading this. Because if there are, I could be in big trouble. I don’t even know if billionaires surf the ‘net, or what websites they go to if they do. I doubt if they go to porn sites, because they can make their own mind-boggling wonderlands of extreme total porn erupt in their own bedrooms whenever they want to, which is another reason why I hate them. Heck, just the thought of Bill Gates throwing gouts of cash all over the place and getting serial blowjobs from the entire cast of “Showgirls” in his private jet while they pretend he’s Brad Pitt makes me mad. I know, you’re not supposed to envy people or begrudge them their good fortune and all that, but billionaires don’t count. They’re barely members of the human race. In fact, I think they may be some weird species of large, well-dressed vermin.

Anyway, if by some hideous twist of fate there is a billionaire reading this, none of what I just said applies to you, Mr. Wonderful. So please give me a million dollars. I’ll even pay the guy I was going to give that nickel to five bucks to mow your lawn.


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