A real true story about me

my problem is that i just have too many ferraris. i am running out of places to put them.

the problem with an ocean side estate is that on one side is the private road, on two sides are assholes, and on the fourth side is, well, the ocean. there is no room to build a third garage. i would have to tear out the hedge-maze or the grotto and i refuse. if i had a car elevator i could put some of them in the sub-basement but that would require a construction permit that i would never get because the planning commission is comprised solely of envious dilettantes and dipsomanic housewives. i briefly considered buying one of the neighbors out, but asshole number one probably hasn’t forgotten about that time i shot one of his dogs after it had wandered into my grotto and asshole number two has a scarface complex and cannot be reasoned with. so for now, most of them are at a secure warehouse in the valley. it’s a tragedy. i mean, what is the point in owning ferraris if you cannot walk out to them in your slippers and robe, don your driving goggles, and then sit in the seat facing the ocean while your gardener hides behind the car and makes engine noises?