The impoverished and unemployed whiners just don’t seem to get it. If someone working for a Fortune 500 company can’t fly their daughter to her birthday party in a helicopter where her three-foot cake, live band, and brand new Hummer await, that would just ruin her sixteenth birthday! Not allowing me to have my second yacht means they I can't take my entire family and all of my friends on vaction to my private island. I'd only be able to take my close friends and family. You poor and homeless are asking the rich to be selective and show favoritism among the one's they love, and that's just wrong.
How dare you ask that we be taxed just a little more so that you can feed your hungry children, pay your rent, and buy a bed? Your ability to purchase goods has no relationship to my point, nor does it relate to my suffering. What's wrong with going to the soup kitchen and sleeping out in the fresh, open air anyway? Sometimes I fall asleep poolside, and I dream just fine.
Sure, the taxes on the wealthiest Americans are at the lowest they have ever been since the 1950s and unemployment, poverty, and homelessness have increased, but raising taxes will only make that worse! Don't you see? Job creators like me won't have as much money to pay their personal shoppers and might have to lay a few off. The pilots who fly my private jet won't get as many flights in; that's even more lay offs. The number of waitresses and bartenders providing service on my yachts will just have to be cut back.
Here's a plan: sell your spare pair of socks. Oh, you don't have a spare? In that case, just sell the one's you're wearing. Now, with that money, buy two other pairs of socks and sell those. Then, buy four pairs of socks; sell those too. You'll be where I am soon. I know my dad made me CEO after he retired, but it doesn't matter how you get your start. It's really hard work that makes the difference. Until the sock sales pay off, I'll need you to stop complaining about sleeping on the streets and eating only what you can find in the garbage. It makes me feel human. Ew.
Can't say more, I need to get some golf in before my dinner with Obama, which costs $35,800 a plate.