1. Climb a mountain

 2. Climb a mountain gorilla.

3.Get funky with gorilla and groom him for ticks.

 4. Go skinny-dipping with people who won’t peek. Or a blind guy. Or that blind guy from that Val Kilmer movie. Or Val Kilmer.

 5. Eat guilt all day without feeling like junk.

 6. Make love under the stars.

 7. Make love under the stairs.

 8. Make love downhill on rollerblades.

 9. Make sweet, sweet love to a Biker Gang.

 10. Own a room with a view (of my neighbour’s sex swing).

11. Have the drapes match the carpet (ie-completely shave my head).

12. Plant a tree as a memorial to all the trees I plan on killing in the future.

13. Learn to ballroom dance. With Antonio Bandaras. In 13th Warrior. No wait, with the Vikings! That’s it, ballroom dance with Vikings.

 14. Ask Tom Cruise, “why so crazy?”

 15. Sit on a jury.

 16. Convince a panel of lawyers that I am fit to sit on a jury, then yell MURDER MURDER MURDER! through the first two minutes of the embezzlement trial.

 17. Wash my hair in a meteor shower.

 18. Tell a joke on stage. To the executioner. Hey wait, this isn’t a stage … what’s this noose for? 

19. Spend a night in a haunted house.

 20. Spend a night with a haunted man.

 21. Experience weightlessness (may or may not be covered by #20).

 22. Face my fear of success. Bully Success into giving me its lunch money. Dominate and humiliate Success for the rest of its natural existence.

 23. Grow a garden.

 24. Grow a garden gnome.

 25. Grow a garden gnome and infect it with zombie virus, then implant its little putrid head with remote controls, because technozombie garden gnomes are the shit.

 26. Donate money to a worthy cause … like Dentists Without Borders: bringing dentures to scurvy pirates the world over.

 27. Master public speaking, privately.

 28. Give a public lecture on mastering your privates in public.

 29.Give to charity–anonymously.

 30. Murder a whole pig’s worth of bacon in under ten minutes–anonymously.

 31. Lose all my pocket money in Vegas.

 32. Pickpocket a stranger and lose all their pocket money in Vegas.

 33. Visit the Holy Land: Stephen King’s front porch.

 34. Frame the restraining order acquired in post- #33.

 35. Get a hole-in-one.

 36. Get a soul-in-one at Lucifer’s Mini Putt!

 37. Run a marathon.

 38. Run a telethon. For myself–anonymously.

 39. Learn to bartend.

 40. Win “Least Sympathetic Bartender Ever” trophy. Clonk a whiner to death with said trophy.

 41. Reflect on my greatest weakness (inability to resist tempation … no, bad knees-check!) See it as your greatest strength (fine excuse not to run around a lot or help people lift their shit-check!)

 42. Ski a double-black diamond run.

 43. Spend 8 weeks in traction.

 44. Research the deepest roots of my family tree.

 45. Chop down family tree and build a nice side table.

 46. Run to the top of the CN Tower.

 47. Sled down the steps of the CN tower.

 48. Spend 27 weeks in a coma.

 49. Win the 649 Lottery. Donate money to Plastic Surgery for Puppies! (Why live with an uglyass dog when you could live with the Joan Rivers of dogs. Oh, wait …)

 50. Paint a portrait.

 51. Sell that portrait (of neighbours naked in their sex swing) to the highest bidder on Creepslist.com.

 52. Hire proper, dignified English Butler. (looks like a damn good butler to me, SO hired!)

 53. Demand butler legally change his name to Morton M. Piddlepants.

 54. Spend 10 hours having front teeth repaired.

 55. Hire new butler.

 56. Demand new butler respond to the cry: “I summon thee, o genie of the magic lamp!” 

 57. Learn to sew.

 58. Sew genie costume for Morton M. Piddlepants the Second.

 59. Learn the art of gourmet French cooking.

 60. Learn how to use fog machine.

 61. Teach Mr. Piddlepants the fine art of dramatic timing.

 62. Make fine french cuisine appear out of thin air OooooOOoo.

 63. Create a website (that has super-serious stuff on it. For realsies)

 64. Teach a fox to stand on its hind legs and dance the rhumba.

 65. Replace fox-damaged eyeballs with robotic ocular lenses in preparation for the Robopocalypse.

 66. Have “Meant to do that” painted on robotic ocular lenses.

 67. Tell a trusted friend my deepest, darkest secret.

 68. Bludgeon that blabbermouth to death, proactively.

 69. Do the 69 position 69 times in a week (the butler did it! Naughty Morton—>)

 70. Learn to walk again.

 71. Have perma-twisted tongue replaced with robotic tongue.

 72. Obtain yellow cake uranium and build a sandcastle with it.

 73. Fart in an elevator and take credit for it.

 74. Remind fellow elevator passengers that I’m radioactive and we’re all doomed anyway.

 75. Kiss a stranger on the lips.

 76. Help the stranger put her underwear back on, because please, we can still be ladylike.

 77. Invent time travel.

 78. Travel back in time and ask Genghis Khan, “what’s with the sourpus, cutie-patootie?”

 79. See a really big rock concert. Travel to Burning Man and see a really big cock concert.

 80. Travel back in a time and inform Shakespeare that his wording, while pleasing to the ear, is somewhat antiquated and help him “modern it up”. Teach Shakespeare that the word fuckspigot means devil and snotgoblin means angel. Better: “Love is a fuckspigot. There is no evil snotgoblin like love.” 

 81. Solicit a telephone solicitor.

 82. Give my dentist a filling. With my foot.

 83. Give my shrink a lecture on not judging a book by its cover, or by what it says inside, or by how the clowns make her feel, because everyone hates clowns, its perfectly sane to hate clowns and also: could I have my big floppy shoes back?

 84. Learn to juggle three balls. Molest a three-balled juggler.

 85. Breed a dingo and a wombat and call the resulting offspring a dingbat. 

 86. Canoe across Canada (the prairies should be neat!).

 87. Learn to play the harmonica. In a supermax prison.

 88. Call my shrink and tell him how the pure, aching strains of the harmonica resonates with me in the darkness that is solitary confinement, and how that makes me feel inside.

 89. Buy my parole officer a really decent fruitcake. 

 90. Get a picture of a ghost in a graveyard.

 91. Buy new pants.

 92. Commit to a weekend long vow of silence.

 93. Rename all the people who were made so happy by #92 “les dickwads”.

 94. Write a silent off-broadway musical called “les dickwads” (specifically, a ballet with people dressed in latex suits. Gonna be a big, big hit.)

 95. Eat jellied eel in London. Simulataneously cry and vomit on a streetcorner in London.

 96. Become a conjoined twin with my sister by stapling our bodies together at the abdomen. Develop “psychic twin bond” so I know exactly when she’s thinking stuff like “ow ow ow ow!” and “omg I’m going to kill you, bitch!”

 97. Take filthy, naked pictures to sell to random porno magazine.

 98. Apologize to neighbours for taking filthy, naked pictures of them covertly. And selling them. Again.

 99. Rename an already-named star. Have genie-butler Morton M. Piddlepants II rename another star the exact same name. Roll 20 sided die to see who wins. Wash, rinse, repeat for the rest of the stars in the universe until Mr. Piddlepants II cries and quits. 

 100. Hire Morton M. Piddlepants the Third (aka Jude Law) and bring him up to speed on the conditions of his continued employment as my butler. Hand him fog machine, rollerblades, the Joy of Cooking, a guide to the robopocalypse and the script to my off-broadway play.

 (Editor’s Note: AJ Aalto is probably for sale. Please contact Morton M. Piddlepants the Third–also known as Bitey McFrustrated–for pricing and information regarding shipping and handling procedures for this product.)