SATIRE
Wearing Pink G-strings And No Deodorant Has Improved My Earnings
I want you to be a millionaire too

Some secrets are meant to be shared. You don’t need to know about my genital warts in the shape of Putin’s missile. Or the time I pissed all over that bus driver in Croatia. Yeah, not every little confidence needs to be revealed.
But this one? For sure. Because I want you to be a millionaire, too.
And I need friends. It’s too damn challenging most days to finish a whole case of Goldschläger — alone.
Here’s how it works.
I keep hearing about what folks here on Medium do to up their earnings. Here is what I do — and how it works.
I don’t believe that stepping on a crack will spontaneously combust my mother’s spine. Only once after I sat at a table with 12 other folks did I end up in ER with a busted spleen. But this shit? It’s based on pure science. Here is why wearing pink g-strings and giving up deodorant have upped my Medium earnings.
Pink G-strings
“Why pink?” you inquire, eyeing up the beluga eggs I’ve just had flown in from the southern Caspian Sea. “Traditionally it’s the color green that’s associated with moola.”
“Well,” I respond, eating the last bite of caviar, despite your drooling and hints. “It’s true that typically pink is linked with ‘feminine’ qualities such as ‘softness, kindness, nurturance, and compassion’. Did you know that some prisons use a shade called ‘drunk take pink’ to gentle the jailbirds within?”
“So, wait,” you say, a look of adorable confusion highlighting your perfect cheekbones. “You’re lulling us into submission? You’re literally shoving a pink piece of floss into your bountiful ass in order that we conform and comply and…”
“…read my stories? Uh huh.” I am not beyond subconscious bribery.
“And why g-strings?” you want to know. “Why not thongs? Boy shorts? Granny panties?”
It’s actually not that complicated.
Strippers who wear g-strings make more money than those who don granny panties.
I apply that concept to writing and Voilà! Bitcoin in the bank, Baby!
No deodorant
It’s a fairly simple concept. If I stink like the dumpster behind a funeral home, people leave me alone. Without friends dropping in every damn day for Tequila Tuesday, I get a hell of a lot more writing done.
Try it. You will be much more productive! Plus it saves you about $5 a year!
Takeaways
Simple science will help you become a millionaire. Throw on some pink g-strings, recycle those pit sticks, and get ready for the life you’ve always wanted. It’s worked for me. See you in Lake Como, Friend!
©Jennifer J. McDougall 2022






