I love The Robb Report. Really, what's not to love about it? A magazine filled to the brim with luxury toys for the rich, like pre-embargo Cuban cigars or the flying cars that the uber-wealthy have been hiding from us. Seriously. There are ads selling a flying car. I bring all this up because I read a fabulous article in October 2003 issue of The Robb Report: Collection. Check this out:

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you. Which is why a wise man with enemies looks twice and rolls up the windows before burying his face in his beloved double chili and cheese. A harmless midnight cholesterol fest at the La Cienega Fatburger could become a drive-by bloodbath if the Maybach's 22-inch gold spinners raise the hackles of an indignant rival. And while some might describe a successful strike as rich justice, the fact is, it doesn't have to end that way if you dine coddled in armor plate, Kevlar, and ballistic glass. You, sir, drive an armored car."

Glorious indeed. Finding Fatburger, Mercedes Maybachs, 22 inch rims, armored cars, and this much unapologetic wealth adulation in one paragraph makes my taint hair quiver with delight. Pitching the joys of armored cars by saying your heavily enemied, rich ass won't get popped at Fatburger is genius. God bless the Robb Report for easing my hate and talking about being so fucking rich everyone is out to kill you...just like I want to be.