American Express calls and says, "Leave home without it!"

Your idea of a 7-course meal is taking a deep breath outside a restaurant.

You're formulating a plan to rob the food bank.

You've rolled so many pennies, you've formed a psychic bond with Abe Lincoln.

Long distance companies don't call you to switch anymore.

You look at your roommate and see a large fried chicken in tennis shoes.

You finally clean your house, hoping to find change.

You think of a lottery ticket as an investment.

Your bologna has no first name.

You give blood everyday... just for the orange juice.

Sally Struthers sends you food.

McDonald's supplies you with all your kitchen condiments.

On Thanksgiving your dad would bring home a picture of a thanksgiving meal.

At communion you go back for seconds.

You wash your toilet paper.

You have to save up to be poor.

You're in college.

You are sterilizing your urine for reconsumption.

Your imaginary friend has more money than you.

You owe yourself money.