If I grow up to be as iconic as my good friend here, Richie Tenenbaum. I'd either:
A) Shit twice with excitement & die
B) Sit in the corner of my shitty, run down living room & somehow begin to feel the urge that life suddenly has meaning
Or C) Express to the world, that I am now finally fuckin' cool as hell, and I'll go to the nearest bar, it'll be called: Black Horses Shall Indulge In Cocaine, and I will wish that my brain could video record & announce to everyone that I can, in fact eat my own head.
But then again, I'll never be a Tenenbaum. Which means, I'll get a shit paying job at either VICE magazine, or even sell shitty paintings on the sidewalk.
But then again, people like paintings.