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Saturday, March 31, 2012

The Lottery - A Gamble?

Apparently, I was not the only person who did not win last night's six hundred and some odd million dollar Mega-Millions lottery drawing. Who knew? When I plunked down my five dollars (which is five dollars more than I usually plunk down on lottery tickets), I thought this thing was in the bag. The rest of the hassle was simply figuring out how I was going to spend my half a billion dollars. Quickly, before it killed me.

When I woke up this morning and found out I hadn't won the big prize, nor any of the smaller consolation prizes, I must admit I was a bit flummoxed. Especially since I had already lined up millions of dollars for immediate expenditure upon receipt of the big, oversized check for which I had made room in the back of my car to haul to the bank.

In the midst of preparing for a move, I had gone online and made reservations for a group of colorfully dressed New-Zealanders to come to my home and help me pack my stuff, most of which I was going to haul to the desert and set on fire in a celebratory bonfire. The New Zealanders were going to treat all in attendance at the celebratory bonfire to a series of Maori tribal dances depicting fertility, the cycle of the harvest and, inexplicably, bulimia amongst fashion models. Sure, it was going to be pricey, but I thought it would be well worth the money spent - the Maori are fine dancers and can pack with the best.

I also planned on buying the house that I see on the hilltop above my apartment - the one whose lights shine into my bedroom window at night to remind me that there are those who get to live on hilltops - and I was going to mount the civil war-era cannon I found on e-bay on its back patio so I could fire recklessly upon the folks still unfortunate enough to live in the apartments into whose bedrooms my newly-acquired lights would shine. This includes my current neighbor and his little under-the-stairway cannon. I was going to show them all a thing or two about cannon-fire.

My Civil War-Era Cannon

I had planned to buy a jet pack and an aircraft carrier as well, for the establishment of Jerry World - this will have to be put on hold for now, while I sort out the impending lawsuits over unpaid deposits and promises of cash-filled treasure chests to be delivered to the warship-mongers.

After spending three and a half hours on the phone with a keen buzz last evening, I have had to turn away from my door today the following:

- Three angry strippers, equipped with a half-dozen changes of role-play costumes, and their pet rhesus monkey.

The strippers' rhesus monkey (photo of strippers not available)

- A set of legitimate conjoined-twin hookers and their sundry lotions, cute little conjoined-twin paddle-car and legal waiver. (photo of conjoined-twin hookers not available - apparently, they are sensitive to light and worried about arrest)


- The lucky Maserati salesman delivering my Granturismo.

My Granturisimo

- The lucky Bentley salesman delivering my vintage 1936 MY.

My damned Bentley

- The lucky salesman from Recordingstudiodesign, who apparently flew all the way from London.

My damned recording studio (stripper pole not pictured)

- The jet pack guy - though I merely had to tell him I would sic my rhesus monkey on him to send him packing.

My damned jet pack

- Raquel Welch. I must admit, she didn't look that disappointed. That breaks my heart. However, I did get an autographed set of fuzzy britches and copped a quick, accurate, precisely-timed feel when she gave me a hug goodbye and that eases the heartbreak a tad.


All I'm saying is that I think I was doing a fantastic job of financial planning with the winnings in mind. I believe I would be very good at being wealthy - like Arthur. It's simply a shame that it didn't fall into my lap this time around.

What does being King pay?


2 comments:

  1. love reading your world it is so nice in there and well planned out. monkey and the stripper pole in the studio really Jerry that is so Scottsdale...lol
    you could have sent a jet for me, I like the new G-6 , and we could have sung the night threw! :)
    Love reading your work.
    Eileen

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    1. Yes, the monkey would have had a nice permanent home ih the studio and all-hours access to the stripper pole, which would have been a delight to see. I could have picked you up with the jet pack.

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