I don't have to take the test to know what kind of soul I am. I am the kind of soul who dresses in truly exquisite style and moves with the grace of a modern dancer, treading lightly. I don't have to act crudely to be a man, because a man is made of finer stuff than that. I tuck a chartreuse neckerchief in my shirt and wear paisley trousers, skin-tight from the knees up, flared dramatically around the calves. I drink only the finest French wines, and can tell you their value within a Eurodollar by sniffing their bouquet. I am a soul put on this earth to spread joy and tolerance wherever I go and to vanquish ugliness and dross with devastatingly good taste. I dismiss the bad behaviour of philistines and crude people with a raised eyebrow accompanied by a deft riposte of subtle humor that leaves them floundering for an adequate response. I can identify 500 different species of orchid, and I wear a flower in my lapel every day. I have a powder blue waistcoat that was designed by Count Tilley. I drive an Italian sportscar and play baccarat. I find most Americans barely literate, and Texans barely even human, but that doesn't mean they can't be improved by taking up the fine arts. Such people deserve compassion, and should be assisted by the more fortunate. Most modern people, sadly, only dream of living the life I live, but that is because they lack the true spirit of helpful generosity, and they have never helped a little old lady cross the street nor rescued a lost kitten. In short, they are the victims of their own poverty of spirit. I am the son your mothers only dreamed they might have one day.

I am a Chosen Soul, Pure of Heart.