RC and I regularly have conversations that start off pretty normally but end up in tears of laughter and more fodder for our "Million-Dollar Idea" list. I don't know if it's a good thing that two people with the same warped sense of humor (and reality) are together unsupervised, but damn, it's fun. I thought it would behoove me to make a running list of our surefire moneymakers, and I'd hate to hoard all this awesomeness, so I'm sharing it with you.
Idea #1: Strip clubs. Sure, they may only make money a couple dollar bills at a time, but it's a start. Add in a $20 cover charge, $10 drinks, and ATM fees of $5 for every traceable bad decision you make with your debit card, and voila! Money! Okay, so strip clubs are not our original idea...they exist and have existed before our time. But ours has a twist: A strip club with a daycare built in so the dancers and patrons can leave their children to be tended to while getting a face-full of bits. It's called "Who's Your Daddy?" Good, right? I know. Don't be jealous you didn't think of it first. Then RC and I carried on the theme and built an imaginary strip club next door to "Who's Your Daddy?" for the older crowd called it "West Coast Floppers." Just so you know, we were completely sober when coming up with these. Delirious, yes, but completely sober.
Idea #2: Dollah-Billah Killah. This is all RC. He awoke from a mid-day nap the other day and the first thing he said to me was, "Is there a rap song that goes, 'Dollah, dollah billah. Dollah-billah killah?'" I blinked multiple times. I thought as hard as I could. And then I asked if he had, unbeknownst to me, suffered some sort of head trauma before his nap. The worst part of all this? Now neither of us can stop singing this imaginary song. I've heard some of the crap on the radio as of late, and I'm fairly certain we could at least break the top 10 with this hit. If either of us could rap, we'd be in business.
Idea #3: Satan's Anus. I know, I know, but hear me out on this one! See, RC and I were having a somewhat normal conversation about the weather. Arizona right now is ridiculously hot and has been in the range of 114 every day. So, I said something to the effect that it's "hotter than Satan's anus after a five-alarm chili cookoff," because I have a way with words...and I'm a classy lady. RC managed to not swerve off the road while laughing (thankfully) and then he coughed out that "Satan's Anus" sounded like a metal band. Then we were off and running. We spent the next 20 minutes writing fake Craig's List ads for drummers who were "anal about keeping the beat" and could "carry the rhythm in the dark caverns of Satan's Anus' rehearsal space." I mean, c'mon, we don't have cable so we have to amuse ourselves somehow. We're not yet sure how this is going to make us a million dollars, but who needs money when you have the musical artistry that is SA?
Idea #4: Your Kitchen. It's a restaurant chain inspired by those frozen yogurt places that make you do all the work. You know, the ones that have you put your own frozen dairy goodness in a styrofoam bowl and then add all the toppings you want (that little kids have already stuck their dirty little paws in previous to your arrival), and then weigh and pay for your gluttony. So, Your Kitchen would be just like that but a full-on restaurant...where you cook and serve your own food. There will always be one missing ingredient for everything on the menu, there will be incomplete sets of measuring cups and mismatched flatware, and only one clean pan to cook in. It'll feature a couple burnt-out light bulbs in the dining room and tables that show the wear and tear of that one time you tried to build a model airplane on it and got superglue stuck to the wood and the varnish wore off. We could make millions just on the savings of a wait staff and cooks!
Idea #5: Personal Stoppers. The rich use personal shoppers to help them spend their money, so our idea is to offer "Personal Stoppers." These are people who will help you erase proof of all those bad decisions you've made from the World Wide Web. Your Personal Stopper will scour the likes of Facebook, Twitter, random porn sites, and personal emails and texts to prevent photos or stories of you being a complete douche or total twit from making the rounds. Whether you've been snapped wearing underwear on your head at a party (not that any of use would ever do that. *ahem*) or if you've simply spouted off about your dickweed boss at a company function in which you were the only overly intoxicated, "can't remember a damn thing" idiot there, the Personal Stoppers will help you erase your bad decision making. If you're a high-risk case, we'll assign a personal babysitter to go out with you in public and shut your fool mouth before it gets to being foolish. We'll also intercept all drunk texts, Tweets, and Facebook statuses for a 24-hour hold until you sober the hell up. You're welcome.
Idea #6: Judas Treats. Originally, Judas Treats was the name of a bakery I dreamed of opening. We'd serve things like "Bread Zeppelin," "Bon-Bon Jovis," and have "ZZ Toppings" for your "Milli Vanilla" cupcakes. But starting a bakery, after I researched it for all of 15 minutes, is expensive. So I scrapped that idea. Then I thought I could start an ice cream sandwich shop with homemade cookies and ice cream. I wanted to call it "Alice Scooper" because I figured Judas Treats might alienate about half the population. But that's expensive, too. So instead, Judas Treats is now the name of this blog. If only I could figure out how to make a million dollars posting ridiculous things.
Hey, since you're reading this, um, you owe me a million, K?
Idea #1: Strip clubs. Sure, they may only make money a couple dollar bills at a time, but it's a start. Add in a $20 cover charge, $10 drinks, and ATM fees of $5 for every traceable bad decision you make with your debit card, and voila! Money! Okay, so strip clubs are not our original idea...they exist and have existed before our time. But ours has a twist: A strip club with a daycare built in so the dancers and patrons can leave their children to be tended to while getting a face-full of bits. It's called "Who's Your Daddy?" Good, right? I know. Don't be jealous you didn't think of it first. Then RC and I carried on the theme and built an imaginary strip club next door to "Who's Your Daddy?" for the older crowd called it "West Coast Floppers." Just so you know, we were completely sober when coming up with these. Delirious, yes, but completely sober.
Idea #2: Dollah-Billah Killah. This is all RC. He awoke from a mid-day nap the other day and the first thing he said to me was, "Is there a rap song that goes, 'Dollah, dollah billah. Dollah-billah killah?'" I blinked multiple times. I thought as hard as I could. And then I asked if he had, unbeknownst to me, suffered some sort of head trauma before his nap. The worst part of all this? Now neither of us can stop singing this imaginary song. I've heard some of the crap on the radio as of late, and I'm fairly certain we could at least break the top 10 with this hit. If either of us could rap, we'd be in business.
Idea #3: Satan's Anus. I know, I know, but hear me out on this one! See, RC and I were having a somewhat normal conversation about the weather. Arizona right now is ridiculously hot and has been in the range of 114 every day. So, I said something to the effect that it's "hotter than Satan's anus after a five-alarm chili cookoff," because I have a way with words...and I'm a classy lady. RC managed to not swerve off the road while laughing (thankfully) and then he coughed out that "Satan's Anus" sounded like a metal band. Then we were off and running. We spent the next 20 minutes writing fake Craig's List ads for drummers who were "anal about keeping the beat" and could "carry the rhythm in the dark caverns of Satan's Anus' rehearsal space." I mean, c'mon, we don't have cable so we have to amuse ourselves somehow. We're not yet sure how this is going to make us a million dollars, but who needs money when you have the musical artistry that is SA?
Idea #4: Your Kitchen. It's a restaurant chain inspired by those frozen yogurt places that make you do all the work. You know, the ones that have you put your own frozen dairy goodness in a styrofoam bowl and then add all the toppings you want (that little kids have already stuck their dirty little paws in previous to your arrival), and then weigh and pay for your gluttony. So, Your Kitchen would be just like that but a full-on restaurant...where you cook and serve your own food. There will always be one missing ingredient for everything on the menu, there will be incomplete sets of measuring cups and mismatched flatware, and only one clean pan to cook in. It'll feature a couple burnt-out light bulbs in the dining room and tables that show the wear and tear of that one time you tried to build a model airplane on it and got superglue stuck to the wood and the varnish wore off. We could make millions just on the savings of a wait staff and cooks!
Idea #5: Personal Stoppers. The rich use personal shoppers to help them spend their money, so our idea is to offer "Personal Stoppers." These are people who will help you erase proof of all those bad decisions you've made from the World Wide Web. Your Personal Stopper will scour the likes of Facebook, Twitter, random porn sites, and personal emails and texts to prevent photos or stories of you being a complete douche or total twit from making the rounds. Whether you've been snapped wearing underwear on your head at a party (not that any of use would ever do that. *ahem*) or if you've simply spouted off about your dickweed boss at a company function in which you were the only overly intoxicated, "can't remember a damn thing" idiot there, the Personal Stoppers will help you erase your bad decision making. If you're a high-risk case, we'll assign a personal babysitter to go out with you in public and shut your fool mouth before it gets to being foolish. We'll also intercept all drunk texts, Tweets, and Facebook statuses for a 24-hour hold until you sober the hell up. You're welcome.
Idea #6: Judas Treats. Originally, Judas Treats was the name of a bakery I dreamed of opening. We'd serve things like "Bread Zeppelin," "Bon-Bon Jovis," and have "ZZ Toppings" for your "Milli Vanilla" cupcakes. But starting a bakery, after I researched it for all of 15 minutes, is expensive. So I scrapped that idea. Then I thought I could start an ice cream sandwich shop with homemade cookies and ice cream. I wanted to call it "Alice Scooper" because I figured Judas Treats might alienate about half the population. But that's expensive, too. So instead, Judas Treats is now the name of this blog. If only I could figure out how to make a million dollars posting ridiculous things.
Hey, since you're reading this, um, you owe me a million, K?
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