1) ‘….When you’re famous….’ Hey, dat’s me! On that score, there’s almost no where I can show up in my small town without someone calling out ‘Yo, Yonatan, whas happening?!’ I am recognizable, but not for being an ‘A’-list party animal or a host of eat-‘n’run block parties. No, I built half the roofs, porches, decks, and additions here. Single-handed, I might add. (I have incredibly large hands, everyone is sayin’ that.) I erected great great structures, heavy, public, and impressive, without any immigrant workers, using only the fantastic musculature my mom and Dad gave me when I was a child. On top of that, every jogger, dog-walker, and baby-carriage-pusher on my street has learned to greet me with glowing respect. (‘A Jewish guy, working the fields, hands in the dirt, and with no Thai imported-workers in sight!) Plus I’ve been on TV a couple times: discussing UFOs, or as the ‘Savior of the American Colony’ in Jaffa docu-drama, and backing name-drop musicians as a conductor and multi-instrumentalist. So ‘famous’? Check.
2) ‘… and rich’: Ok, I own an historic two-story log house built in 1796 which I restored to ‘museum’ standards, a bunch of prime agricultural acreage in the nation’s breadbasket (central PA,) plus an attention-grabbing architectural ‘wonder of the world’ house on Main Street here, which I designed all by my exquisite self and also built, alone, and in record time. Add a VISA credit card plus a Bank-Israel card in my wallet. Oh and I never travel without at least One Hundred ! shekels of flash-cash ‘in-hand’.
So… what’s the deal with hot chicks frantically dialing ‘100 ‘(Police) whenever I try to kiss ’em? Tried it three times now, expecting an Einsteinian different result. No-go.
Like I admitted in the Title:’Dunna Wanna Work’.
I’ve now kinda put on hold more serious groping, p*ssy-grabbing, stuff like that there…
And as to voting for the candidate who promised this perk but apparently can’t deliver, I’m so over the Donald.
At least Hillary, when she stopped by here last week, sat sweetly across from me in my proffered best ‘found-on-the-sidewalk’ chair, appeared to enjoy my ‘day-old’ rolls and poor-soul coffee, looked me in the eye like I wish my Mother ever had, and truly listened to my brief story. We parted with a warm hand-shake. Which I now realize ‘trumps’ any forcible kissing I might have disgustingly dreamed of.
Note: The ‘proviso’ at the top of the page: ‘Anything not fictitious here is real’ is very much relevant. What is true is that ‘Yes means yes, and No means no’, even for the rich and famous Solberg.