Finding money zipped up in last year’s Jeans, laying wet and crumpled in the washing machine, or folded in the pocket of your booze-smelling Jacket is such a great high. There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but this sure comes close.
Finding your own money is a lot like discovering an entirely new currency, one that cannot be used to pay down debts or obligations, but only has value when purchasing stuff you probably don’t need and wouldn’t have bought otherwise, like an old-school beanie cap, novelty ten-pound Toblerone bar,a ring tone for your mobile phone or wallpaper . It is disposable income in the truest sense of the phrase.
For the pessimists out there, you may be saying “Barumph! That money has been all chewed up by time and inflation, slowly losing value and un accumulating interest while prices ramp right on up, making my life less and less affordable. That found money could have purchased more before I lost it than it can today, so why should I celebrate my own stupidity?”blah blah blah
But Paare, come on, we’re talking about found money here — money that hasn’t been budgeted for, accounted for, remembered for, promised for, or owed for, anything at all, since you lost it! Surely the few sacrificed cents of interest in the bank are a small price to pay for holding that folded up bill, right up to the sky, in your tightly clenched fist, with no claims to satisfy. Sure, it may smell a bit like mothballs, Tide, or Grandma’s skin cream, but that money still works. And it works well.
AWESOME!
living room safari in the clouds. Your diaper-padded ass bounces safely on sturdy shoulders as you giggle and grab fistfuls of hair and glasses while gazing down at the tiny toy-covered world you thought you 
