I could do a big riff – or a piercing whine – about how I deserve this. I could write endlessly about how cool this prospective birthday present is. After all, the car has just arrived in dealers’ showrooms after being introduced late last year: The Panamera Turbo by Porsche. I have even picked out my color, what the company’s calling mahogany metallic. Very utterly spectacular.
My new birthday-car-gift is a little pricey: $132,345 at the dealership over on I-10. But what are friends for? (That’s what I asked myself when I came up with the nifty solution.) Here’s the deal.
It just needs 132 of my closest colleagues, friends and relatives – that’s you!
Each of you chip in $1,000. Just send me a check or use PayPal – I’m setting up an account now. I’ll cover the taxes, title, license and so forth. Before you know it, I gonna be cruising down to Galveston. Or west to El Paso at 180+ mph. Or, hey, hey, I’ll drive it around to you guys in Dallas and New Prague, North Bergen and Chicago, let you take an up-close-and-personal at your lovely gift to…me!
Discuss it among yourselves, I’ll just sing along a bit here.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday, dear me.
Happy birthday to me.
Okay – you deliver the buckos and I’ll buy the car. Why? Because it’ll be my precious. Preciousss. Or here is another approach: IwannitIwannitIwannit. After all I’m a real adult now.
