HELLO peasants. You can’t have failed to notice mine and Lauren’s recent understated wedding in Venice. And now you’re gagging to know what other tasteful events we have planned.
Here are five more social gatherings in incredible places my very deep pockets will be paying for in the coming decades.
My Icelandic birthday party
This coming January, I turn ‘sweet 62’. And I plan to do it in the beautiful, unknowable country of Iceland. The land of fire, ice and a massive piss-up with Katy Perry doing karaoke with Oprah. I’ll have to fly in my own seals to club because apparently that’s not allowed anymore, but no biggie. Plus I’m looking at repurposing the Northern Lights to spell out my name and form a giant image of my face. Apparently it will irrevocably damage the atmosphere. But think how it’ll look on Kim K’s socials!
Our Machu Picchu anniversary
To mark six weeks of marriage Lauren and I have booked out the entire 15th century Incan citadel. All it required was to threaten the Peruvian government that I won’t give them the next seasons of Clarkson’s Farm and Reacher. They soon caved. The ruins are a bit shabby, so I’m going to rebuild them into a city made from excessive Amazon packaging. Then once we’re done it means we can just burn it all down. Spectacular! I’m sure Peru will be happy to clean up.
Our Maldives divorce
Lets face it, after a year I’ll want to trade in my missus for a younger model. So we’ll consciously uncouple in the Maldives with a massive party. I’m still in negotiations, but the plan is to turn the entire Indian Ocean into one huge, drinkable Pina Colada. Admittedly we’ll need quite a lot of white rum to achieve this. But if anyone can it’s J-Bez. At the end I’ll chuck her with a cheque for a few billion, ignore her complaints that it’s not enough, and escape on one of my waiting mega-yachts with Lauren Mk. II.
The birth of my clone in Pompeii
Fresh from broadcasting my colonoscopy in Saint Peter’s Square in Vatican City – £2.49 to rent on Prime or £3.49 for HD – I will head for the Amalfi Coast. By now, my plan to clone myself will have borne fruit in the form of a mini bald Bezos. We’ll hollow out Vesuvius and go full evil mastermind. I’ll also clone some dinosaurs like in that movie, I forget its name. Sure, I might unleash a hideous T-Rex prototype which drops dead after eating 17 of my staff, but you’ve gotta try new things. The event will culminate in my clone being released from its incubation egg and my future bloodline secured. If you ignore my four actual kids.
My retirement at The Grand Canyon
In the future Amazon’s growth will have turned the earth into a scorched wasteland where all the money is mine and the plebs fight each other for the few remaining natural resources. But that doesn’t mean I can’t throw myself a decent retirement bash. I’ll fill the Grand Canyon with monuments depicting each of my life events, and that will be the setting for a party is attended by my now 76-strong ‘family’ of cloned offspring. After a final rousing speech I shall step into my Blue Origin Mk. 34 rocket and be ceremonially blasted into the Bezos-sphere where I will rule as your sun god. So just a quiet do.
