Also, I would like it to be known that, in the future, when I am rich
(possibly after I sell Ian into sex-slavery) I am going to buy a giant
Tuscan style villa up in Wine Country.

Every morning I will walk outside as the sun bathes the terracotta
in just the right way to turn it a warm, salmony pink. I will be wearing
a robe - but not a full length one, one of those short ones that ends
just below your arse. I will also be wearing slippers - probably made
from chinchilla fur. Or maybe panda.

I will stand there surveying all my demense - the pool and attending
gazebo, the mini-golf course, the go-kart track which recreates the
Nordschliefe of the Nürburgring. And, of course the large but tasteful
house. I will drink in this view and then raise up the pint of Bloody
Mary I will be holding which will, incidentally, contain enough fruit
and vegetables in it so that, if I chose to do so, I could rehouse an
entire homeless Brazilian jungle tribe.

I will raise this drink, salute the view, take a long sip and let out a 
single word:

    "Daaaaaaaaaaaamn"

Then I will go back inside.

If I get tomato juice on my short robe then I won't mind. Because I'll 
be rich. And I'll have chinchilla slippers.
	
You're all welcome to come stay.