Just two hours ago, I booked a private jet to take me to Mexico City. Why? Because I haven’t explored that city. With who? Nobody at the moment. When? I haven’t received the email confirmation for it, but I believe it’s in a few weeks when Metallica, Travis Scott, and Eric Clapton all have concerts there. Where am I staying? Either the St. Regis, JW, or Ritz . . . almost assuredly put in the top suite for free.
How do I do these things and maintain this lifestyle after not having worked for about a year? Because I’m rich, bitch.
