All my ex-girlfriends, but not now, like, twenty years from now when I'm rich and famous, surrounded by girls half my age that have had every part of their bodies surgically altered to unrealistic-air brushed perfection. I want my ex's to see me on MTV's "Ultimate Cribs" which they will be viewing from their trailer homes on their B&W tv's that only gets three channels and have tin-foil wrapped around the rabbit-ear anttenaes for that "superior reception", they'll have their fuzzy,faded,pink bathrobe on and muddied yellow "smiley face" house slippers and they'll be viewing the show over the shoulders of their 60lb overweight slumbering husbands who have fallen asleep in their pissed stain lazy boys that they "could'nt believe someone had just left sitting out by the side of the road for the garbage man" and after a quick glance at their husband's pasta stained wife-beaters that have not been changed in so long that chest hair has actually weaved its way through the material, they'll look back at the screen, see me in my grotto with six half-naked super-models, and say to themselves ,"Damn maybe I made the wrong choice"....But I really haven't thought about it much.