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You know you're an adult when finding a 100 dollar bill leads to a full-scale internal debate. Should I save it for a rainy day or splurge on that thing I've been eyeing? It's like your brain suddenly turns into a financial advisor, complete with a briefcase and a flowchart. And then there's the guilt. You feel guilty for even considering spending it. It's like the money is whispering in your ear, "Do the responsible thing, Dave." But the other voice is saying, "Treat yourself, Dave, you deserve it!" It's like having an angel and a devil, but both wearing green visors.
In the end, you compromise. You decide to treat yourself, but only a little. Maybe a nice dinner or a new gadget. And then you check your bank account, and the guilt returns. It's a never-ending cycle of financial emotions, all triggered by a little piece of paper that's worth a hundred times more than your average grocery list.
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So, what do you do when you find a 100 dollar bill? Do you spend it or save it? It's a real moral dilemma. On one hand, it's free money, and you want to treat yourself. On the other hand, you're an adult, and adults are supposed to be responsible. It's like being caught between the angel and devil on your shoulders, except they're both wearing suits and arguing about investment portfolios. I asked my friend for advice, and he said, "Invest it wisely." I'm thinking, "Yeah, right, I'll invest in a pizza and maybe a new video game." I mean, who am I kidding? I'm not Warren Buffett; I'm more like Warren Buffet – the guy who buffs the pizza grease off his controller.
But seriously, finding a 100 dollar bill turns you into a temporary financial genius. You're suddenly an expert in economics, planning your next move like you're playing chess with the stock market. And then reality hits, and you realize that your financial strategy is about as solid as a Jenga tower missing a few crucial blocks.
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You ever find a 100 dollar bill in your pocket, and you're just like, "Well, well, well, look who decided to show up!" It's like winning the lottery, but the lottery was hiding in your laundry. I don't trust it though. I mean, who puts a 100 dollar bill in their jeans and forgets about it? That's not absent-mindedness; that's just a secret trust fund I didn't know I had. I'm convinced money has a mind of its own. It's like, "Today, I'm going to make this guy's day!" And then it goes back to its hiding place, laughing. I imagine my money sitting around with other bills, and when one of them gets spent, the others are like, "Dave just bought groceries! He had no idea I was there!"
But seriously, finding a 100 dollar bill is like a surprise bonus level in the game of life. You're just cruising along, dealing with the challenges, and suddenly, you hit the jackpot! It's the financial equivalent of finding a golden mushroom in Mario Kart. You're like, "Oh yeah, I'm invincible now!
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Have you ever tried using a 100 dollar bill in a vending machine? It's like trying to feed a giraffe through a mail slot. The machine looks at you like you just handed it a rare artifact. It's not equipped for this level of currency. You might as well be trying to pay with pirate doubloons. I'm standing there, holding up the line, trying to convince the machine that this is legal tender. People behind me are giving me the stink eye like I just tried to pay with Monopoly money. I'm thinking, "Come on, vending machine, it's just a 100. You've seen these before, right?" But no, it's having none of it.
And then you start questioning your life choices. Why did I think I needed a Snickers this badly? Is this a sign that I should be saving my money instead of spending it on chocolate bars? It's a moment of existential crisis over a vending machine that only accepts singles.
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