▪ Allowed my eight-billion-dollar Barnes & Noble gift certificate to expire.
▪ Dropped one billion dollars between the couch cushions. Tried to fish it out with seven billion other dollars but lost those, too.
▪ Commissioned a survival bunker in New Zealand with a secret address. Still waiting to be told the secret.
▪ Donated sixteen billion dollars to a charity that cuts all of the money that it receives in half.
▪ Forgot to cancel old subscriptions (Spotify, Superyachts Delivered Daily, Paramount+).
▪ Ran an ad-heavy Presidential campaign on the platform of building more runways in private airports paid for by eliminating infant health care. Peaked at eight (total votes).
▪ Accidentally deposited eight billion dollars of savings in the industrial incinerator next to the bank. Incinerator flooded (burst pipe).
▪ My son’s friends broke into my home office and built a fort out of rolls of hundred-dollar bills. When I told them to stop, they started throwing the money at me. All eight hundred thousand rolls hit me in the crotch and bounced into an active paper shredder.
▪ Tried leaving a thirty-billion-per-cent tip on my bar bill to impress a date, but while I was writing all the zeroes my date tried to say how nice it had been to meet and I was, like, “I’m counting.”
▪ Fell for a Craigslist scam in which I paid six hundred dollars for a custom oil painting (me, nude, wrestling with a muscular blue dragon that looks like the dragon on the cover of “Eragon”), but it never arrived. Kept falling for the scam once every second, day and night, for five months.
▪ My biggest rocket ship fell on top of my vintage British naval ship and sank into the ocean, where it crushed my underwater Monet collection and water-soluble diamond showroom.
▪ Went back to the charity that cuts all of its money in half and asked where my other eight billion dollars went and they were, like, “Other eight billion?” and I was, like, “Yeah, I gave you sixteen billion,” and then they were, like, “Do you think money retains half its value when it gets cut in half?” Honestly it felt like I lost another eight billion dollars right then.
▪ Bought my mother a decommissioned military helicopter for her birthday. She used it to rob me.
▪ Commissioned a booby-trapped pyramid tomb filled with my gold and treasure for my eventual death. Specifically requested a booby trap that makes the pyramid collapse on grave robbers. Then realized that I wanted to impress a date with this one piece of treasure. Triggered my own booby traps when I went to get it. Escaped the booby traps, but lost the treasure and the pyramid, and bombed the date because I kept coughing up pyramid dust and sarcastically apologizing.
▪ Expired coupons. ♦