the following is an excerpt of the Pulitzer Prize winning #1 New York Times Bestseller
Give Me Your Money
(and good things will happen to you)*
by
Rev. Jim Duchene
"Jesus didn't need to walk on water twice to make His point."
Uncle Sweetheart
"What did the monkey say to the leopard at the card game? 'I thought you were a cheetah.'"
Bobby Cupid
Are you tired of being broke? Are you tired of doing without? Are you tired of having your nose pressed against the window of your local Taco Bell as you watch the high rollers order from the dollar menu?
Well, you can change that, my friend.
You can take charge of your life, and become rich, like me. I used to be poor. I used to be lonely. I used to wear hand-me-downs from the homeless beggars who felt sorry for me.
Have the homeless ever pitied you? No? Well, you'd better pray they never do. It's almost as emasculating as having to hit up your ex in-laws for a loan.** In the end, your ex in-laws will fork over the cash, if only to extract a promise from you to never bother them or their little girl ever again. I give them what they want.
Why not? Words are free.
I used to have no hope. I used to have no future. I even used to have the kind of breath that could peel paint... but no more. Not since I discovered the secret to the kind of wealth that only people like Donald Trump have access to. No, wait. Not Donald Trump. He inherited his money. I mean, people like the Kennedys. No, they inherited their money, too. Well, I'm sure some rich guy somewhere actually made his money the good old-fashion way. By picking the pockets of the lower classes.
Have the homeless ever pitied you? No? Well, you'd better pray they never do. It's almost as emasculating as having to hit up your ex in-laws for a loan.** In the end, your ex in-laws will fork over the cash, if only to extract a promise from you to never bother them or their little girl ever again. I give them what they want.
Why not? Words are free.
I used to have no hope. I used to have no future. I even used to have the kind of breath that could peel paint... but no more. Not since I discovered the secret to the kind of wealth that only people like Donald Trump have access to. No, wait. Not Donald Trump. He inherited his money. I mean, people like the Kennedys. No, they inherited their money, too. Well, I'm sure some rich guy somewhere actually made his money the good old-fashion way. By picking the pockets of the lower classes.
The secret, my friend, is to get people to give you their money. Willingly and of their own volition. This is done every day. Some people get their employers to give them money. Some people get their families to give them money. What I do is get people like YOU to give people like ME your money.
How do I do this? Easy.
Everywhere I go, I just ask people to give me money. I don't pretend to be sick, or mentally handicapped. I don't dress up like a bum. I don't dress up as if I'm poor. I dress rather nicely, thank you very much. I wear expensive shirts, expensive jeans, and I'm partial to argyle socks and penny loafers. That way, when I approach people they think I'm a well-to-do individual who's just found himself in a jam.
Wherever I am, whoever is standing next to me, I ask them for money. At the mall, at the movie theater, at the Korean massage parlor.
"Excuse me, sir, but can you lend me a fiver so I can get the Al Gore Special? My gluteus maximus is killing me."
And they'll give it to me!
They'll give it to me because all the men nervously standing around want to pretend that they're really and truly and cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die only there for a massage. After I've hit up every patron in the parlor I usually have myself quite a bankroll.
And it's tax free!
Sometimes I'll work the bus stop.
"I hate to ask you this, ma'am," I'll say, smiling shyly, "but do you have a dollar? My wife's in labor, my car won't start, and I need to catch a bus to the hospital."
They're more than happy to dig through their purses to find me a dollar or two. Sometimes they'll even make it a twenty.
"Buy her some flowers," they'll say, as they slip me my next hand of Blackjack.
"God will pay you back," I tell them. That way I leave them with a feeling of hope and salvation. And the beauty of it is... God DOES pay them back. If you go through life expecting good things to happen to you, then good things are going to happen to you. Buddha calls it Karma. Roland Deschain calls it Ka. George Lucas calls it The Force. I call it... opportunity. The opportunity to be a conduit for the well-being and enrichment of others.
It doesn't matter if you actually benefit or not. If you think you've benefited, then you have. Don't believe me? Well, you should. If it's proof you want, you have no farther to look than President Obama. Sure, the economy is in the toilet. Sure, the job situation is in the dumper. Sure, you have to take out a 2nd mortgage on your home to raise the money to pay for a full tank of gas. But, according to Ben Bernanke, Obama's chairman of the Federal Reserve, all that matters if that you're happy.
W.C.Fields called it never giving a sucker an even break. P.T. Barnum called it a sucker being born every minute. And the Obama Administration calls it the Economics of Happiness.
Happiness has value.
Are you happy, my friend? Sure you are. Sometimes happiness just feels like misery, that's why you're confused. Sometimes, when you're pulling your hair out by the root because you've just lost your job and you're trying to figure out how you're going to pay your bills and feed your family, sometimes that's happiness. You just don't know it. You may be looking down a black abyss, but it's a black abyss of joy, my friend. Isn't that good news?
Of course it is.
So, my friends, if you want good things to happen to you, send me your money. You may think of it as a futile act that's comparable to flushing your money down the great American commode we call Congress, but, trust me, it's actually more of an act of faith. You send me your money, and you have faith that the great Santa Claus in the sky will repay you.
Life is meaningless without faith, my friend.
How do I do this? Easy.
Everywhere I go, I just ask people to give me money. I don't pretend to be sick, or mentally handicapped. I don't dress up like a bum. I don't dress up as if I'm poor. I dress rather nicely, thank you very much. I wear expensive shirts, expensive jeans, and I'm partial to argyle socks and penny loafers. That way, when I approach people they think I'm a well-to-do individual who's just found himself in a jam.
Wherever I am, whoever is standing next to me, I ask them for money. At the mall, at the movie theater, at the Korean massage parlor.
"Excuse me, sir, but can you lend me a fiver so I can get the Al Gore Special? My gluteus maximus is killing me."
And they'll give it to me!
They'll give it to me because all the men nervously standing around want to pretend that they're really and truly and cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die only there for a massage. After I've hit up every patron in the parlor I usually have myself quite a bankroll.
And it's tax free!
Sometimes I'll work the bus stop.
"I hate to ask you this, ma'am," I'll say, smiling shyly, "but do you have a dollar? My wife's in labor, my car won't start, and I need to catch a bus to the hospital."
They're more than happy to dig through their purses to find me a dollar or two. Sometimes they'll even make it a twenty.
"Buy her some flowers," they'll say, as they slip me my next hand of Blackjack.
"God will pay you back," I tell them. That way I leave them with a feeling of hope and salvation. And the beauty of it is... God DOES pay them back. If you go through life expecting good things to happen to you, then good things are going to happen to you. Buddha calls it Karma. Roland Deschain calls it Ka. George Lucas calls it The Force. I call it... opportunity. The opportunity to be a conduit for the well-being and enrichment of others.
It doesn't matter if you actually benefit or not. If you think you've benefited, then you have. Don't believe me? Well, you should. If it's proof you want, you have no farther to look than President Obama. Sure, the economy is in the toilet. Sure, the job situation is in the dumper. Sure, you have to take out a 2nd mortgage on your home to raise the money to pay for a full tank of gas. But, according to Ben Bernanke, Obama's chairman of the Federal Reserve, all that matters if that you're happy.
W.C.Fields called it never giving a sucker an even break. P.T. Barnum called it a sucker being born every minute. And the Obama Administration calls it the Economics of Happiness.
Happiness has value.
Are you happy, my friend? Sure you are. Sometimes happiness just feels like misery, that's why you're confused. Sometimes, when you're pulling your hair out by the root because you've just lost your job and you're trying to figure out how you're going to pay your bills and feed your family, sometimes that's happiness. You just don't know it. You may be looking down a black abyss, but it's a black abyss of joy, my friend. Isn't that good news?
Of course it is.
So, my friends, if you want good things to happen to you, send me your money. You may think of it as a futile act that's comparable to flushing your money down the great American commode we call Congress, but, trust me, it's actually more of an act of faith. You send me your money, and you have faith that the great Santa Claus in the sky will repay you.
Life is meaningless without faith, my friend.
Fifty Shades of Funny
jimduchene.blogspot.com
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
@JimDuchene
*And by you, I mean me.
**Don't ask me how I would know that.
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