If I Were A Rich Man…

I was recently asked ‘who is the best person in the human race?’

I replied Usain Bolt. He always wins.

I was then asked ‘How old is Snoop Dogg in Dog yeas?’

This time I was stumped.

But I do know what I would do if I was a richman. I would have a haircut. Every day. So that it always looked the same.

Think of any rich man you know and his hair will always be the same. Phil Mitchell is the most affluent man in Albert Square for example.

Obviously I would say this as it is my lifelong dream to destroy the risk of ‘Bad Hair Days’. Possibly the worst thing about a Bad Hair Day is the fact that a passer by doesn’t recognise it as a bad hair day and as such would assume that the mess they see, that was merely a result of wind (weather based not bowel), is simply your ‘style’. I have thought about this to the point of pulling my hair out (which incidentally is Plan B).

I would also buy loads of socks. Is there anything more satisfying than the first wearing of fresh socks? Even 100% cotton socks tend to get a slight starchy disease once washed and then crust disappointingly.

New socks, a haircut and a Del-Boy style bar are of course top of the wish list for any new self-respecting working class millionaire. This is the only reason that we all enter the voluntary tax that is the National Lottery.

There is a more pertinent point here though: Can one live a millionaire’s lifestyle in 2012 with a solitary million to spend?

That will buy you scarcely 3 houses unless you are from Middlesbrough where you could live like a King. (Although you probably won’t play the lottery if you are a Middlesboroughian as statistically you will be dyslexic. I would give you numbers but there’s little point; they can’t read them.)

No wait. I apologise for that. That was a rushed and crass joke.

Of course Usain Bolt isn’t the best person in the human race.

It’s Paula Radcliffe. Life is a marathon, not a sprint.


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