Hello, all my current Cowboys and future Cowboy-lovers. And I don't mean like in Brokeback Mountain! Which I haven't seen, by the way, because I think that would be gay. And the only drilling T. Boone's doing these days is with the ladies, y'all. Heh!
Howdy. T. Boone here.
I'd like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to come out here and talk about the exciting new fundraising strategies we're coming up with to help Oklahoma State continue to climb to the top of the Big 12, and hopefully into the national title picture. In addition to providing me with a dodgy and compliant accomplice of a tax shelter the personal satisfaction of seeing Cowboy football improve before my eyes, I'm also excited by the chance to innovate the way college athletics raises money.
You may already be familiar with T. Boone's work with the "Gift of a Lifetime" program.
Now some people may have had a problem with this strategy since it involved using life insurance policies as a way to raise money for the program. Well, it's just unexploited risk, people. That's just life and those who hustle it right. Hell, not one of 'em's died yet.
Though I do think I see a few of you in the audience tonight, and lemme just say, watch out for the ol' T. Boonemobile on the way out of the parking lot tonight! Heh!
I'd like to introduce the next step in our innovative program. Another potentially lucrative business sadly constrained by government regulation is the market in human organs. As people live longer and longer, the need for a fair and equitable market in organs becomes more and more obvious to forward thinkers like me, especially those of us long on cash but shorter and shorter on time, right?
Well, Oklahoma State needs to ride this wave in early, too. That's why I'm announcing the latest Oklahoma State fundraising initiative: T. Boone's Hobo Angels.
Now, all we're doing here is matching supply and demand to make a little dough for Cowboy athletics. It's an underreported story in the United States that we have a hobo epidemic. They're everywhere, singing inane little hobo songs, eating food out of cans, masturbating in alcoves and breezeways across this great nation. And God bless every one of 'em, for they shall inherit the earth.
God Bless 'em.
Until they do, though, let's put these useless ragamuffin gas huffers to work instead of letting them sit around smoking cigarette butts they pulled off the ground and playing their tuneful harmonica music. We're starting a center for ailing hobos in Stillwater--a nice, safe place for the hobo to spend his final days, where they can relax and reflect on all of the good things they've seen and done in life: that time they beat a cop senseless in Wichita, a particularly tasty tallboy of Bud Ice they drank under an overpass with David Allen Coe in 1986. Whatever.
We get 'em to sign a few forms waivers in exchange for his last days in hobo heaven, and blammo--there's your revenue! Fresh hobo organs, ready for sale on the market with the consent of his entire new family, Oklahoma State University. At $50,000 a pop just the kidneys will have our boys playing in the best stadium money can afford, all built with the kindness of strangers toward an unfortunate soul during the last days of his life. And, well, his organs, of course.
But remember: only fresh hobos will do! We'd encourage people to freelance, of course, or even donate local hobos to us in their wills (along with their life insurance policies, too.) But don't be bringin' us dead hobos, because the harvest is really only effective within an hour of death, and we're running a charity here, not a mortuary. The Cowboy mortuary business plan is coming, though, so stay tuned!
I thank you for your continued support of Cowboy football, and for your time. Let's let those little hobo angel wings fly us to football heaven!