Today I have to write about luxury yachts. Oh sure, you think, writing about yachts. Whatever. It’s a big boat. Who cares? You know what? Go to hell.

Let me tell you about luxury yachts. Because when I got this assignment I was told “have fun with this one and if you buy one give me a ride.” So I laughed that off and told a friend about my new assignment. She told me “can I ride on it?” I laughed that off, too. Mostly. And I told another friend. He asked if he could use my yacht on occasional weekends.

This is about when I stopped laughing it off. Here I was, only writing about luxury yachts, not thinking of buying a yacht, or leasing one even and people were already trying to scam rides on my yacht! My yacht I don’t even have!

My theoretical yacht brings all the hominids to the yard. The shipyard. No. Better. The yachtyard. Not for just any ship. Yachts only, bitches. YACHTYARD! You wish you had a…

YACHTYARD

but you can’t even go for a ride on my imaginary yacht! You’re all stuck on the pier going “Man, even in my daydreams he’s cooler than me!” and you’re right. I am. Don’t cry. It’s just nature, neither of us can help it. I am, in fact, just that good.

For the record, I am chair dancing some as I write this. Full disclosure, baby.

But what you can do is buy volumes one and two of Luxury Yachts of the World for only £65.00 each. I think the law requires that you read the books out loud in a Robin Leech voice. Be prepared.

Because even just writing about yachts makes you so cool people ask you for rides in an imaginary boat you don’t even have imagine what owning those books would do. Or shopping around for luxury yachts. That might get you free bacon, or something. Well. Maybe a free muffin. Well. Some crackers. High-end saltines, baby! Awwww, yeah!

Me? Well, I’ll be on my imaginary yacht that I didn’t ask for in the first place. Just chillin’. Like ya do. Be sure to wave from the pier, now.