What would you do if you won a million dollars?

I’m not much of a gambler. And there’s something about that look of desperate hope in those sad faces in line at the lottery kiosk on a Friday night that makes me pat the five bucks in my pocket and laugh. You’re never going to win! I find it extra funny when the jackpot gets really high and the lineup gets 10 times as long.

$10 million you say? Bah, not worth my time. I only leave my one bedroom apartment for the big money.

But if I did win a million dollars, how would things around here change? Let’s have a look at a day in the life of Johnny the millionaire.

7:30AM

Get up and have a shower. I’d like to say that my shower is now a baby elephant that sprays me with water from his trunk but that seems kind of gross.

Good way to get rid of your Christmas tree though.

I’d probably go for one of those showers with multiple heads so it’s quicker. Showering is boring. Let’s get it over and done with. Oh and a bench in there too so I can read the paper.

Now we're talking!

7:45AM

Get dressed. What does a millionaire wear? Whatever he wants! And I want to wear that black ninja gi with the silver face mask that the bad ninja wore in Revenge of the Ninja.



If it doesn’t fit I have some pieces of denim off an old pair of jeans that I can sew on as extensions.

8:00AM

Now that I’m suitably attired, it’s time to walk Mutton.

Guess what? Even when you’re rich your dog still poops.

8:30AM

Time for breakfast and I want Cheese Beanos.

Like this but with a cheese slice on top.

But instead of toast I want it on top of an original Action Comics Number 1

Then I’ll film myself eating it and send the tape to Nicholas Cage.

9:00AM

Time to hit the road. I have a plane to catch. Every filthy rich person has to have a fly ride, right? Well I’m no exception. I would like to have a limousine made out of four Austin Mini’s welded together. And not new Minis either, they have to be originals.

Like this but longer and more ram-shackled looking. Maybe weld two of these fuckers together.

I’d also like my personal driver to be Manute Bol.

Oh wait. He’s dead. Fine, just get me a really fat guy instead.

No one’s riding shotgun in my Mini Limo.

10:00AM

At the airport to catch my flight to British Columbia. Even though I’m rich I still have to go through security.

What? They only give you one free drink on the plane!

Once I’m in the air I can catch up on all my media viewing with this baby.

That’s right, a portable TV! And I’ll have it specially fitted so I can hook a DVD player up to it. Eat your hearts out proletarians!

What am I watching? Videos of the guys from Jackass pulling pranks on people I don’t like. Then videos of my hobo army taking dumps in front of fancy restaurant windows while wearing t-shirts with my face on it (with picture in picture close ups of the diners disgusted faces).

3:00PM

I’m on the ground in BC. Now I don’t ski, I don’t smoke weed and I hate hippies, so you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here. Well now that I’m rich I can retire early. And my dream retirement idea has always been to become one of those weird guys that hunt Bigfoots.

Now I don’t want to kill any Bigfoots. I just want to find one, take some videos of him, take some samples of his fur to prove he’s real and maybe give him a pair of shoes actually worn by Shaquille O’Neil that I bought at auction with my riches.

But if Bigfoot wants to rumble and it’s me or him, he better think twice because I’ll be packing some serious heat.

That’s right. The M124 mini gatling gun. Just like the one Jessie “the Body” Ventura used in Predator. No scratch that. I’m a millionaire so it will be the one Jessie “the Body” Ventura used in Predator.



And just to make sure Bigfoot goes down I’ll have special ammunition in it made out of melted down rocker rings.

5:00PM

Alright, now that Bigfoot has been photographed or mowed down into hamburger or whatever I’ve got to get back to Toronto. No time for conventional transport so I’ll just have to take my solid gold, bronze plated Steampunk jetpack (Craigslist).

7:00PM

Dinner at Hooters with Quinton Tarantino on a non-wing night (ohhh, the decadence). Rich people only dine with other rich people and I want to pitch him my movie idea about a romantic comedy set in the competitive eating circuit where a guy falls in love with a robot that has a human stomach. The working title is Fat Circuit.

9:00PM

Come home and give my Monkey Butler an extra banana for walking Mutton.

Then right some crazy ramblings about midgets and hotdogs for my blog.

10:00PM

Go down to my basement and wake up Tom Hanks and the rest of the crew to perform (yet again) all of Bachelor Party live in my bedroom as I drift off to sleep.

Come on guys. I know you’re tired but who’s paying you the big bucks here?

Either that or I’ll watch that secondhand copy of Road House I got for $5.00 at the BMV last week. I’ve already watched it once but it’s got guest celebrity commentary by Kevin Smith and a mini documentary called What Would Dalton Do where they interview real bouncers about how much they love the movie Road House.

Hey, five bucks really can make all your dreams come true.

Feels like an Arbys night.

Last year a place called O.Noir  opened in Toronto. It’s a restaurant where you choose your meal before hand and then eat in complete darkness and all the wait staff that serve you are blind. It’s supposed to heighten your other senses so you enjoy the food more and let you experience what it’s like to be blind. Kind of like the opposite of Hooters (unenjoyable food + ogling = Hooters).

(She could be serving you and you’d never know)

I haven’t been to O.Noir yet but I kind of want to go. I like the idea of themed restaurants. They’re dinner and a show. They’re like Chuck E. Cheese for grown ups.



In Japan there’s a restaurant called Nyotaimori (which means female body presentation). Usually this refers to that thing where you eat sushi of a naked lady.

(I wonder if you can get a cheaper one where you eat shrimps off a midget?)

This is the Japanease equivalent of Filmore’s 10 ounce steak and a face dance special.

But at Nyotaimori they actually make you a fake dead body to eat.

Apparently the skin is dough and inside is edible organs and red stuff. I bet there’s chocolate mousse in the butt.

Speaking of butt mousse, you can actually get it at the Taiwanese restaurant Modern Toilet.

It’s a toilet themed restaurant where you sit on toilets.

You also eat out of toilets and drink out of urinals.

It’s disgusting.

I’ve eaten at a toilet themed restaurant right here in Toronto. The Popeyes Chicken on Yonge St.

In New York they have a restaurant called Ninja. It’s decorated like 15th century Japan and your food is made and served to you by Ninjas.



How much do you tip a Ninja? If it’s too little he may feel dishonored and kill himself. I’d go with 20%.

(This guy works the fryer)

Maybe I should open up a themed restaurant. I’ve got some good ideas.

Sheepypalooza’s

This would be a restaurant where you dine with sheep dogs. Lots of sheep dogs. Like 50 or so. I get to eat with my sheep dog Mutton everyday and it’s lots of fun. Imagine sitting down to a fine meal while being surrounded by sheep dogs. It would be like eating in a Dulux commercial.



Maybe I could train them to bring you your food or your check or something. But probably not.

White Trashiteria

This would be my white trash themed restaurant. All the waiters would be in wife beaters or shirtless and they’d sit in chairs drinking, smoking and watching TV. As the customer you’d have to scream and yell at them to come take your order. (My take on the rude French waiter.)

(the Matradee)

Here’s an example of a Prixe Fixie meal at the White Trashiteria

Starter
(Tuh shut you up till mom gets home from her job goin door to door sellin Bump-Its.)

Your choice of:

Triscuits with mustard on them

or

1 uncooked hot dog, cut up with ketchup.

Main Course

Your choice of:

Kraft dinner served in the pot it was cooked in. (Please respect our menu and do not ask for ketchup.)

or

The Bacon Bit Buddy. (Imitation bacon bits, ketchup and butter between 2 Wonder bread slices. Microwaved until hot.)

Dessert

Your choice of

1 single serving rice pudding can. (Our waiters remove the pudding can lid at your table to insure freshness.)

or

The invisible McDonald’s Sundae (After much begging from you one of our waiters will agree to go out and get you a McDonald’s Sundae only to return hours or days later looking disheveled and without the Sundae ).

The interior decor would be akin to several trailers pushed together. Once a night the toilets overflow and the trailers are jacked up to keep the erupting toilet water from ruinin the shag allowing diners the entertaining sensation of eating on a slant.



Hoarders

This would be a chain of family fun themed restaurants based on the hit show Hoarders.



Each restaurant would be located in the house of an actual hoarder.

Mom and dad can relax in the dinning room.

While the kids explore and find treasures like:

Misplaced loaded firearms.

Desiccated deceased pets.

Jars of your hoarder hosts own body fluids.

Hoarders has a fully stalked kitchen.

Just be sure to eat up quick as the resident hoarder will be screaming and crying and trying to stop you as they have an emotional attachment to the food your eating do to some tragic past event in their life.

(Check please!)

Oh and don’t forget to pick up something from the gift shop.

So what do you think? Am I the next big restaurant mogul or what?



P.S. This is post number 69... lunch time!

I Hate Tiger Woods.

Every morning I turn on the TV to watch the news and guess what? There’s no news. There’s just this awkwardly smiling golf playing, blonde pumping, muscley dip shit Tiger Woods.

He’s on ESPN, CNN, CBS, TBS, ABC, NBC, CBC, BBC the only thing keeping off TLN is that he isn’t a  fucking midget. There’s no escape. He’s all over the internet and even the radio. Howard Stern has been talking non-stop about Tiger’s penis for about 2 months now.

And have you seen the latest? The creepy black and white Nike commercial with Tiger hearing the ghostly voice of his dead father?



I literally saw this commercial ten times in the space of half an hour this morning. Still, it’s not as bad as the one time I saw the original Ghost Dad back in 1990.



I’m just so sick of turning on my TV and the first thing I see is Tiger Woods lumbering around the golf course in that purple shirt awkwardly trying to live his life.

And there’s nothing that will make it go away. Even if he were to just explode on the golf course. Then that’s all people would be talking about.

Anderson Cooper: We’re going into our 93rd straight hour covering the Tiger Woods self-combustion story. Coming up in a moment we’re going to have a live interview with spectator Milky Bullard who believes he was grazed by one of Tiger’s chunks.

Howard Stern: I wonder if they’ve found Tiger Woods penis yet? Man… Tiger Woods. Guy had a big penis… Penis.

Nope. It would have to take something astronomical to get Tiger Woods off the news. Maybe Jack Nicklaus showing up at the Masters in a Ninja Gi and lopping off pro golfers heads like Sho Kosugi in Ninja 3 the Domination would do it.



I doubt it. Jack Nicklaus is 70 years old now and would undoubtly loose to 18 year old Asian Amateur Champion Chang-Won Han from South Korea.

In a final battle that no one sees anyway because they’re too busy reading year old text messages from Tiger Woods to the neighbor girl asking her if she’s Touching Herself

Maybe the answer lies in North Korea. What if Kim Jong Il showed up at the masters and hit 18 holes in one, thus breaking his earlier record of  11 holes in one the first time he ever golfed? In honour of this accomplishment all future Masters winners could be given one of Kim Jong Il’s fashionable jumpsuits instead of the green jacket.

His final hole in one could be hit into one of those crazy golf clown mouths.

Except instead of lighting up and giving Kim a free game it launches a nuke at South Korea. Take that Chang-Won Han!

(Hole in Won! Ha ha ha!)

Nope. Tiger Woods would take down the missile with a carefully placed chip shot into its ventilation shaft, guided by the ghostly voice of his father Obi Woods Kenobi.

Chang-Won Han Solo: Great shot kid. That was one in a million.

Chang 3P0: Oh thank goodness master Woods, you’ve saved us!

Damn it. Looks like Tiger Woods is here to stay. Even if he tanks at the masters and Nike dumps him, he’ll still be on TV in those Cheetah drink commercials like Ben Johnson.



Oh well. At least there’s one image of Tiger that we won’t be seeing anytime soon.

Ahhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!