Operation Santa

Click on above to enlarge

Operation Santa is an organization where people mail letters to Santa to the post office, and then rich people go to the post office, pick a letter, and then mail the letter-writer the gifts that are requested, under the guise of being an anonymous Santa. It's actually an awesome organization, and if I had more bags full of money this year, I would totally do it and then brag about it until I died. Unfortunately, this year, I am forced to be one of the letter WRITERS who begs Santa for gifts. I missed the deadline to mail in my letter, so I'm posting it here in the hopes that some kind soul reads it and makes this Christmas the best one ever for me, mainly because I'm Jewish so this would actually be my first Christmas ever. Click on above picture to read my letter.

Proposed Economic Fallback Plans

Diamonds on my wall

As you may know, I am a big fan of get rich quick schemes, pyramid schemes, ponsi schemes and schemes in general. My attempts to acquire employment have thus far been thwarted in this "economy" so I was brainstorming on ways to make boatloads of money that do not involve me actually working. Here are just a few of my ideas, if you can even believe that I have more where these came from. Do NOT steal them.

1. Opening a petting zoo, with Perry has the main/only attraction. $10 entrance fee, $5 per each pet.
2. Scraping the Swarovski crystals that are on the wallpaper that Oprah gave me, and selling them as diamonds on Canal Street.
3. Going to every Duane Reade in the city, and opening every Secret Flawless deodorant to find the fake sequin hidden under the cap, which is redeemable for a 1 carat "flawless" diamond, which I will then sell for ice cold cash.
4. Plastic surgery consultant, whereby if you think someone has had plastic surgery but are too afraid to confront them about it, contact me and I will provided a detailed analysis of likely plastic surgeries, along with percentage of likelihood breakdown and name of probable surgeon.
5. Personality/dating analysis, whereby I meet you and tell you the truth about why you're still single.

Class Reunions

This Saturday night is my quasi-high school class reunion (fine, I only went to that school for middle school but I still know all the people there and I was invited anyway so calm down), and it appears that this was a bad time to quit my job because now I'm going to look like an unemployed loser. When I was in high school, I remember talking to my friends about how at the10 year reunion I would roll up on my yacht with my husband and 37 children in tow, be dripping in riches and diamonds and be the CEO of 30 companies as well as a famous writer and devoted patron of the arts and international supermodel. Luckily the part about being rich, a famous writer and a supermodel is 100% true, but unfortunately I don't have a yacht (YET) nor do I have a husband or any kids to speak of, unless you count my dog, but it may look suspicious when people whip out their childrens' bronzed baby shoes and I show them Perry's professional Hanukkah pictures.

In any event, this weekend's reunion is actually just a practice reunion for my real 10 year high school reunion this Thanksgiving, which will likely be the most important day of my life. A day when phoenixes rise from the ashes, the mighty are brought low and the meek inherit the earth. Below, I have outlined my tentative schedule of critical preparation:

1. August 15, 2008 - give up all carbohydrates
2. August 16 - begin Master Cleanse
3. August 17 - hire celebrity personal trainer for workouts 4x daily, 8 times a week until reunion
4. August 18 - schedule secondary rhinoplasty
5. August 19 - get secondary rhinoplasty
6. August 20 - acquire steady and goodlooking boyfriend who is r$ch
7. August 21 - become exceedingly r$ch
8. November 27 - end Master Cleanse
9. November 28- attend reunion

Bloomingdales Usury

Only shop here if you are telepathic

Because I wear VERY expensive and luxxxurious clothing, several months ago I was shopping in Bloomingdales and bought approximately $700 worth of clothing because I am very rich. They asked if I wanted to open a Bloomingdales card and I said no, but then they said I could save 30% so then I said yes, and the entire amount was put on the card. Several months later when the spirit moved me to pay the bill, I logged into Bloomingdales online and saw that my account balance was $0, which was glorious news because that meant that the clothing had paid for itself.

Every few months or so I would log in to confirm that my balance was still $0 and that I had gotten all my clothing for free, until one day I received a mysterious call from a collections agency telling me that I owed approximately $900 with interest and that I needed to pay it immediately. Since the man was extremely scary and I had previously seen Dog the Bounty Hunter, I paid the full balance to the collections agency man and then called Bloomingdales to figure out what happened. The customer service rep explained to me that for some reason my online account had been registered as a "Platinum" account, but the actual charges were made to a regular "Gold" account, the (erroneous) idea being that platinum is better than gold, so that the charges never showed up online. I then asked the customer service rep whether I was supposed to use my extreme telepathic powers to intuit that Bloomingdales had made this mistake, or whether I should just in the future be fine with all my charges going to the wrong account and then paying 5000% in interest every time and have my credit score go from 10000 to 0 and have to live in constant fear that a man with a mullet and a leather vest will come to my apartment, scare the children and take back all the dresses I bought.

While I initially suspected that this "mixup" was no mistake but actually a usurious scheme by Bloomingdales to get more interest and ruin peoples credit, this was 100% confirmed last week when I was shopping with Megan at Bloomingdales and she was buying a very important dress and the cashier swiped her Bloomingdales card and said it was declined. Megan then asked to speak with a customer service rep on the phone and then she informed the rep that she was EXCEEDINGLY wealthy and just paid off her Bloomingdales card and that her card being declined was embarrassing her in front of her friends and other shoppers and making her look poor which was humiliating due to her extreme wealth. Unsurprisingly, they pulled the same pyramid scheme with her, billing one account, making up a new magical account with a $0 balance and then charging her 10,000% interest for not using her powers of telepathy and realizing what was going on. Frankly this is ridiculous and we need to get John Stossel in here to do some swab tests and investigate this shit because something is going on and I'm onto it.

Things I Will Do When I'm Disgustingly Rich

Since I apparently talk about gold and riches so much, someone recently asked me what I would actually do if and WHEN I get my hands on such money. Below I have included a list of things I will do when I am repulsively wealthy:

1. Quit my job - any one that I am working at the moment

2. Commission an oil painting of Perry from the finest painter in the land

3. Furnish a room entirely of gold

4. Buy an estate next door to Bono so I can watch him with binoculars

5. Free all the animals in captivity everywhere

6. Take out a full page ad in my hometown's local newspaper and write "I am very rich and you live in Hoboken - hahaha" and address it to high school tormentors

7. Hire someone to work out for me while I eat gummy worms on a chaise lounge

8. Punish the wicked

9. Pay off Megan's student loans

10. Get a secondary rhinoplasty from Dr. Raj Kanodia on Dr. 90210 who, according to his receptionist, doesn't do secondary rhinoplasties, but that is a lie because he did Jennifer Aniston's and Cameron Diaz's

11. Make them do a Rock of Love 3

12. Pay rent on my apartment for the next 25 years so they stop kicking me out

13. Purchase a mausoleum for myself and Perry to be maintained in perpetuity

14. Devote 100% of my time to looking for the fountain of youth

15. Pay someone who will reveal to me the secrets of the Vatican

16. Create a town devoted to Bedlingtons, which will be a sanctuary for underprivileged or homeless Bedlingtons

Queen of the Garbagemen

I just got back from the cafeteria and one of the maintenance workers tried to start up conversation with me. On the way to work today, one of the small Dominican men who works at the hardware store on my corner told me to have a nice day. One of two things is going on here, I either a) have an absurdly good looking face and shamazing body or b) am the patron saint of blue collar workers. This shit happens to me and Risa all the time - we walk by a bank or some corporate place where very sexxxy and r$ch men work and the guy picking up the garbage in a blue prisoner jumpsuits outside of the bank yells "you go, shorty." I have never once walked by anything and had any dapper men in suits say "work it out" or "damn!" or "hello?...HELLO?...I love you" and this is because I simply do not attract men in suits despite my best efforts to look amazing at all times.

I've done extensive analysis about why only minimum wage workers are into me and Risa, and I have concluded it is because only minimum wage people are into shapely badonkadonks, of which both me and Risa are in possession. Apparently thin, and ethereal is "in" in corporate America, and short and bootylicious is "in" in the elevators, on the streets and pretty much other places that need to be cleaned or maintained. I will seriously be lodging a complaint very soon because frankly there is nothing I can do to reduce my butt size (but luckily it does not have cellulite on it which is a plus).

Financial Solutions

After I had forwarded my tax forms to the offices of Daddykins Feldman for processing, my dad called me up and asked me if I had any other "investments." I asked him what he meant, and he asked whether, besides investing in shoes and makeup, I "put my money anywhere that would actually MAKE money" for me. I still didn't really know what he meant, because I was told there were only checkings and savings accounts, and someone had to me to keep things in checking and only use my savings account on pain of death, because apparently money in savings account "makes" money, and money in checking accounts does nothing. He explained that he was referring to "stocks" or "mutual funds"and not my ridiculous Commerce Bank accounts, and that he would send me some Fidelity Mutual Fund crap to look over and that I should "consider"investing my money instead of "letting it go to waste" in a bank.

So he sent me this Fidelity crap which was basically a bunch of boring documents with charts with the gist being that I hand over all my money, they apparently put it into some magical money making machine where I just put in one dollar and 30 gold coins come out. Despite 3 centuries of medieval people trying to turn turn lead into gold, Fidelity has solved the problem and discovered an easy way to turn money into more money. Incidentally, Fidelity has also tamed the elusive unicorn and solved the mystery of the abandoned settlement of Roanoake. Um, frankly I'd just rather have my money rotting in the bank and diversify my investments in lottery tickets and clothing and haircuts or whatever, because the better I look the better my chances are of marrying a repulsively rich person who will pay me to work out and watch tv.