Now THIS is a pen that I could get used to. Boston's Charles Street jail was one of the roughest coolers in the business for 156 years. Now, 150 million bucks later, it's a high-class luxury hotel ... the kind that Capone would need two references to get into.

I've been in spots where it felt like my house was a prison, see? The payment was sky-high and my bank account balance was lower than a bad golf handicap, baby. It's bad when your digs are digging you into a grave. But it doesn't have to be that way. Imagine being debt free and sleeping good at night. Deep-six your debt, and things seem brighter.

The grocery store doesn't feel like a trip through the chow line. Turning up the heater on a cold night doesn't feel like you're juicing up the electric chair. You can rest easy ... it's the stuff that dreams are made of.