Wanna know a great way to keep cyberhackers out of your bank account? Maintain a "zero" balance, like I do! The hackers will take one peep inside, be reminded of a dusty, cobwebbed cave (or perhaps Tyra Banks' vagina), and flee for their lives! However, there is a significant downside to maintaining an empty bank account, which is the "no eating or buying anything and being forced to sleep on a filthy urine-soaked mattress underneath a bridge" thing.
That's why I've decided to say, "Cyberhackers be damned! I'm gonna make me some money!"
Since I've been deemed too mentally unfit to work for any company other than this newspaper, I've decided to follow in the footsteps of other washed-up one-trick ponies who need moola and write an autobiography! Hey, it worked for David Hasselhoff, Tori Spelling, and Barack Obama—and it'll work for me! Besides, I already have the perfect title: A Prostate Full of Dynamite: The Wm.™ Steven Humphrey Story.
Wait. On second thought, writing an autobiography is gonna take WAAAY too much time, and the urine-soaked fabric on my mattress is beginning to seep into my pants. So change of plan: Now I'm going to follow in the footsteps of washed-up one-trick ponies who feel someone else's urine soaking through their clothes and write a children's book!
Seriously, it can't be that difficult, right? Because (a) kids LOVE me—even though their parents might have restraining orders that allege otherwise—and (b) if the success of Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling is any indication, a monkey tripping on cough syrup should be able to do it.
Need proof? Check out this week's special ABC News report entitled J.K. Rowling: A Year in the Life (ABC, Thurs, July 16, 8 pm), in which a documentary crew follows the author around for an entire year as she writes Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I suspect it will go something like this: On day one, J.K. Rowling writes Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. On day two, she gets paid. For the 363 remaining days, J.K. Rowling reads magazines, eats Choco Tacos, learns to balance a spoon on her nose, and spends her millions on fur-lined swimming pools, gold-plated cocaine, and the most technologically advanced and erotically perverse sexbots.
So frankly all that's left for me is to revert my brain back to its most childish state (not a lengthy trip, I admit), write a 30- to 150-page kids' book about magic, wizards, and fairyland shit, and then start raking in the dough! And why, yes... I do already have a title in mind (thankyouverymuch), and the book will be called Li'l Wm.™ Steven Humphrey and the Prostate of the Unicorn. The story in a nutshell: An evil wizard has stolen the world's most prized possession—a golden prostate buried deep in the anus of a magical unicorn. Therefore it is up to the most awesome boy magician/inventor/skateboarder in the kingdom to horribly mutilate the wizard, secure the return of the golden prostate, and push it back into the unicorn's anus using his "magic wand."
Hmm. Okay, this might take more than a day.