If I were a Jonas brother. . .

My balls would be worth more than the lives of everyone you know, combined. Every female, of every age, would do anything for my Jonas load. Their every orifice would be at my load's complete disposal. Mothers would be lining up their daughters, begging me to drop my life security providing load on their daughters. . . and themselves. Because they know, every time I masturbate, that load filled towel is worth millions of dollars. And instead of always sexing up the little girls and their mothers (of course it would be simultaneously), I would sometimes proclaim, "Do not touch my dick!" and make them watch me jerk off in front of them so they can only witness the load they cannot have. . . just because I can. My purity ring would be about as worthless as your opinion. I could get a 1.5 million dollar Bugatti Veyron, keep it in a garage, and then drive it when I finally turn sixteen. I would operate with reckless abandon and Disney would cover up everything I ever did. I would be accountable for nothing because I'm underage. I wouldn't have to go to school and my parents would work for me. I'd be like, "Dad, clean my room or you won't get your allowance this week." I could have the same sanctimonious look on my face all the time because your life will never be as awesome as mine. I know the reason dudes all hate me is because their little girlfriends would all buy lottery tickets for a chance at becoming the recipient of one of my loads. If only I were a Jonas brother. . . .