Pippi Picks Princely Pricks

I love huge rings because they will turn you into a crazy prince who drank too much out of a lead-spiked goblet:
When you're wearing the ring, you can come up with an excuse to wave it around a lot. Keep yelling "WAITER!!!!!!" or "PASS THE BEANS - AGAIN!!!!!!!!!" so you can show off your bejeweled hands. Once you think people are starting to get the idea, go up to one of your friends, stick you ring right under their nose and yell, "DO YOU SMELL THAT, BITCH? THAT SMELLS LIKE MONEY!!!!!!!!" Then go sit back down. 20 minutes later, say, "What's that smell? Oh, duh. It's money." Then wave your ring around again.
To keep the princely dream alive, wear this bracelet:
Then you can be all like, "Yeah, duh. I have a whole staff of people who tie these strings on me every day. They also bathe me and recreate Veggie Tales when I ask them to," and only you will know that the strings came PRE-ATTACHED and that your "staff" is only me, Pippi, your humble king-appointed blogger. Why did the king give his heir a blogger and not a scribe or squire or archery coach or other useful thing? Why? Because the King Pancake picked Prince Pippi. Whoa. Ok, reel it in. Too much absinthe.