I’m just a sucker for the classics. Everyone knows this one. Farmer and wife are starving. Republican administration, so no aid. Already sold a kid or two. The shit is bad, and we’re one winter away from being crack whores.
That is … until their beloved goose lays … a fucking golden egg! Are you shitting me? They freak out. Throw a party. Have sex. Buy drugs. Only they are broke again.
Damn! But the goose lays another golden egg! This is insane! They blow it out. Really blow it out, as in Leaving Las Vegas. But they wake up, and decide to clean it up, cause they have a golden goose. They go to rehab. Refinance their shack, buy back one of their kids, get their lives together.
And the next month, the goose guns out another eggs. Which somehow to the farmer and his now upper-middle class wife is cool but … not that cool. Because, they really want more golden eggs. They’ve never flew to Vegas on a private plane. Never shared a Thai whore. Never done a lot of crap. Which makes them fester.
So what do these two brain surgeons do? They decide to cut open the golden goose, thinking there must be ton of golden eggs in this 18 pound goose.
Resulting in them murdering the best thing in their lives. They literally kill the golden goose, and of course are left with a handful of goose guts. They murder each other with rusted pitch forks.
The moral: always think before you act. I didn’t make that up. That’s actually the moral attached to this story. I shit you not. Google it. That said, I can’t figure out who came up with that one, cause this story has nothing to do with intelligence, let alone any form of thought.
Nor reality, because all of us know real life examples of people owning golden geese … they’re called rich kids. Fucking rich fucks, who live off family and inheritance.
And you know what rich kids don’t do? Kill their trust funds. No, they milk those fuckers. Fight tooth and nail against their equally indolent siblings for every penny due to their lazy asses.
Sure, occasionally you have a murdered parent, but that’s the exception, as rich kids are generally not capable of such organized action. Instead, they just like receiving their checks, flying everywhere First Class, and telling you about their new business … which basically just involves buying property using Daddy – or even Grandpa’s – coin. Sometimes they create an internet company, but it’s always doomed due to the non-existent work ethic … but of course the rich kids still win, thanks to the tax laws.
It should be noted that my rant is not against rich people, but people who are rich only because of the labors of their ancestors. I’m all for making a shit load of money, and then acting like an asshole. It’s your money, yo.
Where was I? Golden goose … right. Need to close this, as I’m getting sweaty.
Figuring out the real moral for this one is tricky, as the whole story is a ruse, created by the trustees of the rich kids, to keep the rest of us clueless about what a fucked up great deal rich kids have. Basically, they want us to think that people having trust funds always fuck it up. But they don’t. They never lose their money.
Because if the funds get low, they just find another rich kid and marry them. They really do. They never marry poor kids. Am I saying rich kids are happy? Hell no. They all become drug addicts, drink at a medically unhealthy level, and get lots of therapy – but last I checked, misery also occasionally visits hard working poor people.
The real moral to the golden goose story: Don’t fuck with rich kids’ geese, or their Daddy’s lawyers will fuck you up.
Enjoy your Monday. Unless you’re a rich kid.