Think you’re a failure and wonder why other people are more successful than you? Don’t worry. It turns out, you aren’t so different than they are. The Intergalactic Business Report reveals nine things smart, important, and rich people do that you do too. 1. They sleep at night. At some point in the evening, when they are tired, successful people fall asleep, usually in a bed. If you fall asleep in a bed at night, you are doing what most successful people do. Congratulations. 2. They use toilets to poop into and also pee into. Success sometimes needs to take a bathroom break. Unbelievably, super accomplished people will stop what they’re doing to find a toilet to take a dump in or pee into. Do you ever find a toilet and poop or pee into it? Then you’re just like them. 3. They eat food. In order to not die, most successful people will eat food and also drink water. This keeps them alive over long periods. If you’re alive because you eat food, then you’re the same way. 4. They breathe air. Instead of not breathing, which causes death, successful people take air into their lungs and then breathe it out, causing them to live. Are you alive? Maybe you’re successful too. 5. They take showers or baths. To clean the bacteria and shit off themselves, successful people are known to use baths and showers to clean themselves. Most normal people also have baths and showers and they sometimes use them. Do you shower? If so, you’re on the right track to being successful. 6. They use their mouth to talk. In order to convey thoughts or just to yell at someone for fucking up, successful people will use mouth holes in their faces to say words. You have one of these too, probably. 7. They have penises and vaginas. Take off the pants of a successful person and you will find they have penises and vaginas. Now take off your pants. Do you have a penis or vagina? Then you’re just like them. 8. They see things with their eyes. When they want to see something visually, successful people use their eyes, which allow them to look at something and tell what it is. Believe it or not, you do the same thing when you open your eyes and look at something. 9. They think thoughts. As complicated as this sounds, it just means that successful people can use their minds to consider things. Still sound complicated? Maybe only successful people do this. The Intergalactic Business Report talks frequently to some of the world’s top billionaires. In a recent conversation with one of them, we heard something so fascinating we decided to share it with our readers. Usually, billionaires talk about money and numbers, so we were shocked to hear this one tell us that money isn’t actually important to one’s happiness. Huh? You won’t believe his seven secrets to being eternally happy. 1. Have relationships with people who will do practically anything for you. That’s right. Relationships matter more than money. Our billionaire recommends you hire assistants who will literally take a bullet for you, help you bury bodies, and clean your pool. 2. Instead of having a boyfriend/girlfriend or being “married,” try a prostitute who pretends to be your beloved and never breaks character. We’re all just acting anyway, right? So why not pay for someone to act like you want them to? Our billionaire told us that his “wife” is actually some hooker he found in a catalog. But, she’s so good at her job that sometimes he just forgets her “origin story” and has the perfect marriage instead. 3. Shut negativity out of your life by surrounding yourself with people who constantly encourage and support you. You know that friend who always calls you on your bullshit and tries to keep you grounded? Fuck him. Hire a cadre of new “friends” who say stuff to you like, “Shit, you look amazing today,” and, “I’d be here even if you didn’t pay me.” 4. When you feel stressed out, fly off on your private plane. When your personal pilot asks where you’re going, just say “Surprise me.” If he takes you somewhere you don’t care for, get a new private pilot. Doing this will bring a sense of whimsy and capriciousness to your life and make you forget the stress of trying to control everything. 5. If there’s something you’ve always been afraid of doing, have a servant do it first. Our billionaire told us he’d always been fascinated by bear fighting, in which a human and a bear battle each other to determine which one of them gets to live. It sounded so life-affirming and thrilling, but he was too nervous to try it himself. Luckily, his servant, Andy, was able to step in. Andy was murdered by the bear in less than eight seconds, but this saved the billionaire from not getting killed and also ended his obsession with bear fighting, which he quickly realized was too bloody and morally wrong for his taste. 6. Find solace and solitude by eating alone in a restaurant you have cleared out so that you can eat alone there. The frenzy of modern life can really wear on you, so just find your favorite restaurant and reserve every single table for yourself. When the waiter gets there, tell him you’re waiting for someone else to arrive and to not bother you until he gets there. On your way out, four hours later, tell the owner that the service sucks. Then write a Yelp review saying the place was empty and nobody would take your order, so you left. 7. Prove to yourself that money doesn’t matter by buying something really expensive and then destroying it immediately. The more we care about money, the more it controls us, so our billionaire recommends you find something so expensive and valuable that you feel it would hurt you to lose it, and then burn it, blow it up, or melt it so it is worth nothing. For instance, destroy your car or your house, forcing you to drive one of your less favorite cars from your massive garage and live in one of your less favorite mansions with one of your less favorite views of the ocean. Ever since the recent scandal in which some “rich” people got their kids into “elite” schools through bribery and faking test scores, the Intergalactic Business Report has been begging me to write an article about it. They say, “Oh, Darryl, you have intimate relationships with super, ultra-wealthy people. Why don’t you find out how they get their kids into college?” They say they want an article from me that’s “relevant” and “newsworthy” instead of “scary” and “unsettling.” Here it is. I guess… First off, I just want to say that fake actresses and lawyers are not what I consider “rich.” But whatever. The legit, super-wealthy people I know would never do what they did. To explain better, I’ll tell a story of the time I got my friend’s kid into one of the most elite universities on the planet. Rudolphino is what I’m going to call my friend, but his real name is Eric. Anyway, Rudolphino is old and had a son who was getting old enough for college. So one day when we were finished with a helicopter race (which totally sucked because my pilot decided he was going to be “safe” and not cut through the canyon like I specifically instructed him to do) I told Rudolphino that he should seriously consider firing his helicopter pilot. Then we talked about how his son was applying to all these colleges and how he really wanted him to get in and how stressful that was and blah blah blah. People are so fucking boring when they talk about their kids. Anyway, I told him, “Hey, you’re one of the wealthiest people in the history of Earth. Why don’t you just tell all the universities to let your son in?” He droned on for a while about how it didn’t work that way and how you couldn’t just “buy your way in” to college, and on and on. I was so tired of hearing his shit that I decided to just take care of the situation for him. I said, “Hey, Rudolphino, if I get your kid into his top school, will you shut the fuck up about this and find me some drugs and hookers?” He didn’t answer me right away, so I left and looked around the mansion for his son, Rick, whose real name I don’t even remember, probably because I didn’t know it then and didn’t ask what it was. Rick was in his huge bedroom, playing video games, so I found a cord connected to his t.v. and ripped it from the wall. He stopped playing and looked at me like I was a home invader, probably because he’d never met me and because I started screaming at him to get on the floor with his face down. The good news was that he followed my instructions and just lay there, terrified, while I talked about the importance of education. That seemed like the right thing to do, but I was a little drunk and angry, so it may have just come off as more screaming and I think I might have thrown up in the corner of his room. Anyway, I remember thinking, “This is how a high school advisor must feel.” I asked Rick to tell me what school he wanted to go to. He paused, so I broke a nearby lamp. Then he said the name, which I can’t reveal but not because I want to conceal the identity of the university, but because I can’t remember. All I know is it was considered super elite and a place where “smart” people go, supposedly, even if they’re not rich. Whatever. As I looked at Rick, I began to feel sorry for him. He was a weird looking kid, even though his parents were ultra-wealthy. Clearly, they hadn’t given him any plastic surgery or new teeth. Which, I thought, was kind of like child abuse. No wonder Rick was struggling to get into a top school—his parents were fucking monsters. This is the point in the story where I realized how amazing I can be. There I was, in one of the biggest, most palatial estates in the world, drunk out of my mind, and yet I still was trying to help someone. I told Rick I’d be his personal college counselor and get him into his top choice university. He looked scared and asked who I was. I could feel a little more puke rising in my throat, but I held it in. “I’m your personal college counselor,” I told him. “Didn’t you fucking hear me?” I knew then that for Rick to get into his dream school, I would need to take him away from his fucked-up parents. I asked him if he had credit cards and cash. Answer: yes. Then I told him to pack a few things and in a couple minutes, we were sneaking out of his house and heading to the airport for our first college visit. We drove in Rick’s car and I took his phone and threw it out the window so that his parents couldn’t track him and stop him from attaining his educational goals. That’s when Rick asked a question that changed everything. He said, “Are you going to kill me or something?” I took a sip of the bottle of Absinthe I had brought along and smiled, “Oh, Rick,” I said. “I’m not your parents. I’m here to help you. Not hurt you.” Then he asked me if I had a gun. (Side note: when someone asks you if you have a gun, never answer. It’s like if someone asks you how much money you have or if they can measure your penis. Just be silent and give an awkward smile and they’ll stop asking.) We arrived at the university sometime the next morning. I had sobered up quite a bit, although I’d been drinking throughout the plane flight and had not slept. “This must be how a high school advisor feels,” I thought to myself as we de-boarded and took a cab to the college. Rick asked if we should change, since he was still wearing pajamas from when I first found him. I was wearing my signature form-fitting track suit with the picture of a Chinese man shushing whoever gazes upon him. I said to Rick, “The secret of meeting anyone is to be yourself. This is you. You don’t want to pretend to be someone else.” On campus, we found some building called “Admissions,” which was either where they admitted students or interrogated them till they confessed. Inside, I grabbed Rick and marched him past the nasty secretary who guarded the offices. She freaked out and pestered us as we looked for someone who would let us into the school. Then I found him. A man named Dean Admissions, for whom the entire building was named. Dean was kind of a dick, at first, till I started screaming at him to shut the fuck up and let Rick in. Then he became really receptive. I placed Rick in a chair near Dean’s desk and told Dean to sit down because I had a full presentation for him. Dean sat. I paced around and thought to myself out loud, “This is it. I’m going to close this deal and this dickface is going to let Rick in or I will lose my shit and burn this whole fucking place down.” And it worked. It totally worked. I think that’s the moral of the story. Dean said, yes, sure, of course he’s admitted. No problem. Then some SWAT team or something came in and beat the shit out of me and, I think, Rick too. But the Dean did say Rick could go there. So I feel like I did my job. Which leads me to the point of this article—how rich people really get their kids into college. I think I learned four things about that: 1. They get a really really top college advisor to go with them on their campus visit and negotiate directly with the university. 2. They don’t pay that top college advisor, even though they really owe him a shitload of money. In fact, when he comes to them with his bill for services, they accuse him of kidnapping and all this other bullshit. 3. When the top college advisor shows up at their mansion later that week and he tries to climb over their wall, they have “security” people “remove” him from their property. 4. When the top college advisor shows up again, with gasoline and matches and tries to burn down their motherfucking house, they charge him with “arson,” which is a made- up crime. I guess in the end, I stand in solidarity with all the lower level high school advisors and college counselors out there. Even though they’re poor and wear shitty clothes, we’re kind of the same. Except for the shitty clothes and the poorness. Will I ever work again in the super-rich college counseling industry? Probably not, unless I’m paid up front. For now, I’m off to an elite event where poor people fight each other in a ravine and we throw things at them. Till next time, I’m out. Darryl Smurten reports on the mega- and ultra-rich. His up-close insights about how they live provide even common peasants the ability to glimpse, if for a moment, the light of the good life. If you are ultra-rich and don’t know Darryl yet, and would like to invite him to hang out with you, please contact him at [email protected]. Don’t expect him to get back to you right away. Recently, an anonymous billionaire* stopped by the Intergalactic Business Report offices** to share his advice on how to become almost instantly wealthy. We were skeptical at first, but after a few minutes couldn’t believe some of the secrets he revealed. Below, read some of the most mind-stopping revelations we learned: 1. Being rich has nothing to do with money. Being wealthy is how much money you have. Being poor is how little money you have. Being “rich” however, has nothing to do with money at all. For instance, when you eat a dessert that has a lot of sugar in it, you may say, “Wow. That’s rich.” Clearly, a cupcake or slice of cake does not have money. 2. Believe it or not, even the wealthiest people in America don’t “make” any money. Most money is made on machines by the federal reserve. This means that all the money out there is actually just paper printed on massive money-making machines. Are you a machine? Even if you are, it’s highly unlikely that you are the kind of machine that makes money for the federal reserve. 3. You can eat money. Ever wonder why people call money cabbage, dough, or cheese? It’s because you can actually eat money. Just put it in your mouth and eat it. Seriously. It tastes terrible, and there are probably traces of cocaine and feces all over it, but you can eat it. 4. If you leave a tip at a restaurant, it can be up to 20% of your total bill (or more!). Next time you’re out to eat and decide to leave a “tip,” be aware that this is extra money you’re paying on top of your regular bill. This means that in addition to the cost of your meal, you are agreeing to give even more money to the waiter or waitress. That’s crazy, right? 5. A “money clip” is a device that holds your cash in a “clip.” This can be useful if you carry bills around with you. Look into it. 6. The term, “You’re so money,” does not mean you are actually money. That would be impossible since money means coins and bills. You can’t be those because you are a human. *Some guy. **A bar where we were drinking. |
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