Steve Harvey said it best, when you got giraffe money, well… you just get a bit different.

Steve Harvey meant this in relation to Michael Jackson, who is undeniably different.  And the man in the mustard yellow suit has a point.  The fact that the King of Pop has enough money to even inquire about how to get a giraffe, let alone actually buy one like he did, almost ensures that M.J.’s weirdness will careen farther and farther down the pathways of nuttiness.  Such are the joys and privileges of wealth.  And I have no problem with that.

It would be unseemly to have incredible amounts of wealth and NOT own some bizarre exotic animal.  (I myself would buy a grizzly bear and, as I have already said, breed and manipulate its genes until I had a miniature version small enough to put in a backpack and market to Japanese school girls.)  This goes double if the owner of said wealth uses his wealth to either throw lavish parties for the purpose of impressing many women, to advance some form of super and/or mad science, or to threaten the world order as we know it.   It goes one and half times for those who have earned their wealth in either a nefarious or incredibly redneck fashion, the lottery, through a lawsuit against a neighbor, or by striking gold in particular.

I do, however, wonder: what level of Michael Jackson-ness you have to inherently have to want to buy foreign faunae when you are not in a position to meticulously flaunt your lucre?  How the devil do you get a hold of some wildebeest or crocodile, HECK, how do you find out how to get a hold of one of them beasties even, ifn ye ain’t got a spare hundy grand lyin’ bout?!!  I don’t know.  I guess that’s what the Internet is for.  But then if ya got one ya got to take care of the critter, cause you can’t exactly do like Mr. One Sequined Glove and pay somebody (probably a trained expert) to look after the thing.  And ya gotta know that their poo stinks even worse than the domesticated beasts we normally allow in our territories.   Plus you can’t just feed those things table scraps like a dog or a cat.  They need eucalyptus leaves and bamboo shoots and zebra flesh to live!  And that’s expensive.  Plus getting a license for those things has to be terrible

What’s even more expensive is what happens when the monster attacks a friend or relative or nosy neighbor kid.  No need to dwell on that, ’specially given the recent news from Connecticut, but seriously there is a reason that the organ grinding business is going under, namely insuring the monkeys against bites is too expensive for a poor organ grinder!  What’s more folks odd enough to buy an animal not merely to impress others, dispose of too much riches, or for work but rather for companionship is likely to form some odd imaginary relationship to the animal.  And that nonsense seems even more likely when that pet is basically a wild animal.  They probably bought the thing thinking it would be their friend, when all the critter cares about is what any animal (and most people) care about, food and mating!  So the emotional costs to these fragile individuals would be almost to high to count if these critters either died or proved how dumb and wild they are!

All in all it makes no sense to this one.  If you want to expend that kind of money and energy on a fantasy born pipe dream spend it on something worthwhile, like buying the brand new book from Boodachitaville!  You can find it here!  If you are entertaining any notions of wasting money then this is where you should do it and not on some dumb giraffe.  No matter how graceful they appear, or how hypnotic their spots are.

The Spots….

Spots….

-Bob

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