In light of the above news story, I thought I’d describe just what I’d do with $315 million. I think the tendency for most when they hypothesize about this kind of thing is to come up with a bunch of philanthropic endeavors along with their inevitable selection of a sports car with rocket engines to spend the newfound wealth upon. I shall be no different.
So, figuring you get a lump sum of maybe 40%, you’ve got about $126 million to work with. After taxes, you’re left with maybe $6.50. AHAHAHAHAHAHA, I made a hilarious joke about the IRS screwing you in the ass!
Anyway, you’ve got maybe $80-90 million after taxes. If you’re any kind of a decent human being, you spend maybe 5% on spreading goodwill toward men. I’d pay off my family’s bills and I’d probably donate a few million to the American Red Cross. But to make it more fun, I’d pick some underprivileged children and buy them all Segways and then watch the chaos that will ensue after I’ve put them in a small, enclosed space. I’d probably buy them some food and clothes, too, but the emphasis should be on the Segways.
At some point, I’ve gotta pay off all the debt I’ve accumulated over these 25 short years, but that’s a drop in the bucket compared to my now-augmented bank account balance. So pay off all the credit cards, the car, student loans, child support for my seven kids, bribes to that zookeeper in South Dakota to cover up the chimp kidnappings, and my apartment rent.
After the philanthropic tendencies have been sated, it’s time to make your money work for you. I’d hire a reliable accountant and broker to help me manage my cash; investing in Roth IRA’s, CD’s, high-yield bonds, pork belly futures, and a diverse selection of mutual funds, all designed to net me a 43% increase in net worth. That all sounds good, right?
All accountants are out to get your money though, so I’d have to set aside about $14 million to track him down after he’s skipped the country with half my money. Costs would include hiring an elite team of mercenary assassins, travel expenses (helicopter, private jet, amphibious armored personnel carriers, etc.), pay-offs to the local corrupt judiciary in the Caymans, and of course, the diamond-plated bullet enscribed with the accountant’s name that will be used to “get my money back.” This will take place on the side of a volcano, lava rivers surrounding us, the accountant writhing in pain after being shot in the knee. A helicopter will arrive, drop a ladder which I will hop on, and I’ll then shoot the accountant in the ass and yell out “this town needs an enema.” I’d then laugh like a schoolgirl and fly away.
After that mess, it’s time to “live a little,” as the Mayan gods once said. The next order of business is to get two new cars: one ultra-sportscar in the Ferrari vein, preferably in midnight blue and with mandatory doors that slide up instead of out. The other car would be tailor-made for offroading, probably a fully-customized Hummer that features a roof-mounted cannon capable of firing both explosives and candy at high speeds.
I’d then buy two or three homes, probably an apartment in NYC, a lodge in the mountains of Colorado, and a giant beach house in Malibu. All of these would have seven TV’s and a movie theater, a Save Kenny court, and a football field. I’m a big fan of waterfalls, so those would have to be incorporated throughout the house, connected by rivers criss-crossing all over the house. You’d have to have some trees in there somewhere as well. All houses, as expected, would be staffed by the aformentioned chimps.
The most important action that I’d take after gaining all this phat cash is to quit my God damn job at Adelphia.
I have no idea what a Roth IRA is.