So my latest get-rich-quick scheme is to rent out billboard space on my truly immense damned forehead. Seriously. Look at that thing. I do believe that it is actually getting bigger by the year, but I don’t want to follow that thought through to its logical conclusion, because it would mean that I have a receding hairline.
Anyway, the price is negotiable. No pro-Trump messages, of course. (And I’m sure the president will be disappointed, because my forehead is the possibly the only space large enough to fit the word “HYDROXYCHLOROQUINE” in big bold letters.) I cannot ethically advertise any product that exposes credulous white people to questionable chemicals. So neither will I promote either Essential Oils nor Pumpkin Spice Latte. When it comes to my giant forehead, With great power comes great responsibility.
Or maybe I could rent the space out as a movie screen, what with drive-ins bouncing back during the pandemic. You could throw some Alfred Hitchcock up there.