Bleh. Need somewhere more secluded.
A mansion on a tropical island where it's always between 20c and 30c. No snow, rainy season in the winter. It has a movie theatre with surround everything, a bar with every kind of beer known to mankind, a full-time chef and maid, a gaming room with the fastest PC and net connection on the planet, a gym, spa, massage tables, and I won't be needing the whole "entertain a stadium full of snobby rich people" fleet of plush furniture or dining facilities. There's a medicinal plantation out back, and the upper floor is dedicated to a harem of 19 year-old girls.
In my garage there is: a McLaren F1, a McLaren Mercedes SLR, a 1969 Boss 429 Mustang, a 1970 Boss 302 Mustang, a 1968 Shelby GT350 Mustang, a Ferrari Enzo, a Lamborghini Egoista, a 1970 Lamborghini Muira, a 1969 Jaguar XKE convertible, a 1987 Buick Grand National (always had a soft spot for those), an absurdly overtuned Nissan Skyline GT-R NISMO (I'm talking one of those 1000 bHp Tokyo drift racing jobs), a Range Rover for inclement weather, a BMW M6 for everyday driving, an Audi A8 for those WTF moments, and 2006 Saleen S6. Because why not. Oh, and also a 1983 Ferrari 308 in case I ever meet the guy who does the voice of Archer so we can drive around with doing random Magnum PI quotes. Also a rebuilt Lancia Stratos kit car with modern electronics and a reliably supercharged engine by Honda or Nissan or someone that I can use to slaughter the homemade rally course out back in the place where other billionaires would foolishly build their convention centre-style dining room.
*edit* Thinking further, I'd put a sonically pure music studio in the basement of the main house. I'd have the full range of product lines from Gibson, Fender, Ibanez, Mesa-Boogie, Krank, and various other noisy things. My little island would be the modern home of car racing, industrial metal music producing, getting wasted and being far, far away from just about everyone I know in Vancouver.
There we go.