I would live among the cotton candy clouds where pastel balloons are my neighbors and music streams from pink tunes. My food would be sweet, sophisticated, and well...pink! I'd be scholarly and read classic world literature...so long as it came in pink. I wouldn't tease lung cancer, but I'd pretend to smoke fabulous pink cigarettes at some French bistro every morning. I would live in a pink house that everyone would envy. And I'd only ride around via pink transportation. If by then (then as in when I somehow get rich to afford all this pink luxury) the public metro system in Europe has not been renovated with a complete pink wash, then really, I have no choice. Pink vespa. Period.