I was woken up one morning by what sounded like a lawn mower, or rather, a tree chipper right outside my window. Turns out it was my neighbor either parking or unparking his new Lamborghini, and apparently the parking spot is tight enough and the car wide enough that it takes him fully ten minutes to maneuver the thing in or out. Either that, or he’s new to the whole stick shift business and is being extra careful so as not to engage the clutch too quickly and stall while simultaneously crashing into the wall of the next building. He alternately parks a huge Jeep Wrangler in the same spot which today I noticed says “Unlimited Edition” below the model name on its side, as if that’s something to be extra proud of. If cars (and art prints, and other things, like, oh… money) generally advertise and pride themselves on their being “limited edition”, why would you want, on the other hand, to proclaim that you’re “unlimited”? As in, “nope, I’m just your average vehicle, they’ll make as many copies of me as they can sell, and then some, nothing special here, move along now!”. I guess this fits the statement:

If you’ve got it, flaunt it. If you haven’t got it, flaunt it anyway.

Which is like the old videogame saw:

If it moves, shoot it. If it doesn’t move, shoot it anyway.

And I now segue into talking about how I am not going to segue into talking about videogames, or the Segway, or anything clever like that. Or not.

I’d like some gold bricks, unlimited edition.

But that would devalue the gold and make it worthless, so no.