Let me tell you the story of the rich man and the poor man. The rich man has a big house filled with the finest art work. He goes to fancy restaurants, and owns the Dallas Cowboys. He owns many successful businesses and gets richer everyday. But he has no wife, nobody he loves more than his money. The poor man lives in a shack. He struggles to find work, and when he does it doesn't pay well. Sometimes he goes to bed hungry because he cannot afford food. But he is married to a beautiful woman who he loves, and every morning he sees her beautiful face and smiles. One day, the rich man shoots himself in the fucking head, because his life is meaningless and he hates it. He shoots himself in the head and his brain splatters all over the Mona Lisa, which he owns. And nobody cares enough about him to clean it up because nobody loves him. Some people come to clean up his house and throw everything out. Just then, the poor man and his wife are walking by the house when they spot the Mona Lisa in the trash. They decide to pick it up and sell it. Soon, they realize it is the original Mona Lisa, and they make millions of dollars. Now they are rich, living together in a beautiful house. And they also give a lot of money to charity. They love each other so much and are happy. The moral of the story? If you are rich you are going to kill yourself because your life is stupid and pointless, and a poor man with a beautiful wife is going to get all your money. He lived a better life than you and no one will remember your name. Your life was a waste. Fuck you.