Here we have Cousin Munyechekbigbagfulski Wronski. "Cash" we call him. Yes, we know his given name is a bit much, but too much was never a problem for him. Perhaps its just the karmic inheritance from such a lengthy moniker. A Calvinist, through and through. "God rewards the good" kind of thing.
So the story goes that he took the Dale Carnegie approach and went "next level" with it. "Think and grow rich." Well, he did.
How rich? Let's just say that he made Uncle Benjamin look like a piker. And, said Uncle was as you may know 1% of the 1%. Cousin "Cash" has, as they say, the world by the ass.
You never heard of him? Like all the well to do, he keeps out of the limelight. Parties at any one of his palazzos which are scattered like confetti around the globe, all telephones, cameras, and note taking paraphernalia were left at the door. Non-dislosures signed before entering the festivities.
Rumor has it that the cellars in all his so many domiciles are stacked to the gills with cash. And, big bills mind you.
Okay, you say, he's "RICH!". What's he like in person.
Let's just say that dumb sonofabitch was one lucky sonofabitch. Babcha said of him, "That boy's brains are just painted on!". "Kapusta for brains!" [Kapusta is Cabbage in the Mother Tongue.]
So, how come? One dumb but lucky sonofabitch. How lucky? You know that bit about the optimistic kid who starts frantically digging into a pile of horse poop ... "There's a pony in here somewhere!". Well, our Cash Cousin actually did find a pony once, just doing that. Imagine! He was his own golden goose. No, his poop was just like anyone else's. Not quite that golden.
What's the upshot of all the regaling you with the stupifying story of our dear Cousin. Just this: If you yourself want to think and grow rich, forget it. Cash was there first. Got all of it. As they say, "Cash is King".
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