First things first:

Fuck CitiBike

Finally, Fuck CitiBike.

I spent all day driving the one percent around Manhattan, and I have decided that I would like to be rich. Scrooge Mcduck rich.

Coins don’t work that way, unless you’re rich, in which case everything works how you want it to.

The thing about being able to measure your wealth in reference to billions is that you stop having to pay for things. Things simply happen for you. People go out of their way to make things happen for you. It’s about the “Quan.”

Quan is from Jerry Maguire, it means love, respect, community, and money.

“I don’t like black people? I’m mister black people!”

I’m a little bit disappointed that nobody told me that being rich is so awesome. That people fear you, love you, and respect you, just for having money. Does anybody know how I get money? I’ve tried selling my blood, but they cap that after you donate a certain amount. I could write pulp erotica and self publish it on Amazon, but every story would revolve around a man’s “Turgid member” and a woman’s “bitching rack!”

Here are the things I’ve figured out you need to do to be rich:

1) Wear a Suit

2) Drink a Ridiculously Complicated Coffee Order

3) Be Born With Money

I’m honestly lost here, maybe I’ll go to business school.

I didn’t forget.