I love one million dollars so much I would marry it but no to this one. I just can’t get into the idea of becoming the kind of person who says things like, “I’ll meet you at the party, I just gotta grab my gun first,” or, “I’ll be there with guns on. Not bells but guns,” or, “The gun takes that side of the bed and I take this one. It’s not perfect but what marriage is, really?” I’m sure there are gun nuts out there that would say yes to this — not even for the money probably, but out of some misguided, self-sabotaging spite toward liberals and communists and San Francisco and MLK Day. But I’m just not a real shoot-‘em-up, from-my-cold-dead-hands type and also, hello? Plaxico Burress? Stop putting guns in your sweatpants, dear. So — and this is my final answer — no to shooting myself, point blank, numerous times.