This afternoon, my buddy the Carpetbagger suggested in the comments from the previous post, that if he had won the lottery, he would literally hire the actor that played the lawyer character on Seinfeld, Jackie Chiles, to be his spokesman, staying completely in character.
I can’t even begin to say how brilliant that idea is. And it got me thinking of a whole other way to go with lottery winnings: using all that dough to pull off unbelievable stunts, just to mock everyone and everything, especially the media.
How cool would it be if I could find a way to keep my whereabouts unknown and just show up from time to time to do outrageous things, like a flash mob of one? Like Bagger said, hire Jackie Chiles to be my spokesman. (As far as I can tell (on Wikipedia), he’s still alive.) I could hold press conferences to announce, among other things, that I’ll give $5000 to the first person that brings me a cheese omelet… right there while I’m speaking.
I could announce I’m funding my own presidential campaign and just go out there and rip on all the other candidates. How liberating! I could say shit that no one else would ever dare to say, like Harry Truman on crack. Then if the other candidates take any kind of legal action, I sic Jackie Chiles on them.
I could hire Tina Fey to act as Sarah Palin and be my VP candidate. (That’s one way to meet her!) Actually, strike that… I’ll hire her to just sit there and talk to me. Easiest million she’ll ever make.
I could show up for debates and demand that everyone refer to me as “Your Excellency.” If they won’t do that, I’ll insist then that they call me by my given name, (stolen from the classic Monty Python “Election Night” sketch), Tarquin Fintim-limbim-limbim-wimbim-limbim-busstop-fatang-fatang-ole-biscuit-barrel. And I won’t even show up… I’ll just have Jackie hold up a laptop with a live feed of me on it.
I could pay a guy with Tourette’s to record all my radio spots.
I would make a commercial, just to mess w/ the other candidates. It would only be a 15-second spot… I’d have it run following every other campaign commercial and it would be Joe Pesci from My Cousin Vinnie, saying “Everything that guy just said is bullshit. Thank you.” (The remaining 10 seconds would show a long Chuck Lorre-esque vanity plate like he puts up at the end of his shows. I’m the bluzdude and I approve this message n’at.
I could do commercials using nothing but internet cats, with graphics in “LolCat-speak,” extolling my virtues.
“Da kitteh sez voat 4 bloozzz. He gud hooman. He give kitteh da wet fude.”
Unfortunately, I’d probably wind up with the dreaded “Producers” situation and win the election! I guess I’d have to make sure that no one does anything to actually put me on the ballot.
Meanwhile, I keep feeding the internet celebrity “news” sites a steady stream of cellphone footage of what appears to be my downward spiral, featuring Tony Montana-sized piles of blow, Keith Richards-like blood replacement machines and Charlie Sheen-like paranoid rampages. In fact, maybe I can hire Charlie Sheen to do them for me.
Eventually the very media that built me up will tear me back down as I go down in a paparazzi-fueled blaze of glory. I can secretly hire Criss Angel or Penn Jillette to make me mysteriously disappear right in front of the press, thus enabling my return to a life of blissful anonymity.
Soooo many possibilities here… I tell you what… if I win the lottery a second time, I’m definitely doing it!