Lottery schmottery.  Okay, truth be told I’m only saying that because I’m not the big winner, but you know how it is.  The last couple of days I’ve spent more time talking about winning the lottery than I have the weather.  And let me tell you, when you live in the Midwest and lilacs are blooming on March 30th, the weather is a pretty big deal!

Man up!  Who’s willing to admit they bought a ticket?  I sure did!  Who doesn’t want to be the lucky winner?  I know they say your life changes, and you have a whole new set of problems and all I’m hearing is blah, blah, blah!  I’m guessing you’re with me on the fact that you’re willing to take the risk to see how the other half lives.  Am I right?  Thought so.

The thing is that we are more likely to get hit by the proverbial Mack truck or pose for Playgirl/Playboy than win the big lottery.  Yeah, that pretty much says it all because I know what I look like sans clothing.  Let’s leave it at that.  Even with that being said, I can’t help but notice we all like to talk about it.  I’ve read the Facebook posts about quitting jobs and buying big houses, and holy rollers, let me assure you I’m on board!  Sign me up!  I’d like to say I’m one of those good people of the world that even after they win the lottery they keep their same lifestyle with the same daily grind job.  I’d like to say it, but you and I both know that there ain’t no way in Hell that would be the case!  Sorry, people, as much as I like my job, there would be a couch in my house calling my ass to sit on it (Fonzie style)!

This lottery deal even had us discussing it at work.  It amazed me how some people knew exactly what they’d do with the money and some people hadn’t given it a thought, like it was more foreign than long underwear in Florida.  Seriously, what would you do with the money?  To be honest, the scope of that thought is a little out of my realm.  I can’t really fathom it.  Even after listening to all the table talk of boob jobs, lypo, building art studios, paying for kids’ colleges, and new houses, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.  I mean, I hope the inner American dream story hasn’t died within me, but who gets that lucky?  Never anybody I’ve known.  (Of course, please note if it does happen I will still be your friend.  I will still tell you when you have broccoli in your teeth and then ask what kind of fool eats broccoli when there’s chocolate in the world, but you know what I’m sayin’.)

Speaking of which, what’s on your must do list if you win?  Will you be sending a sucks-to-be-you singing telegram to all your exes saying they missed out?  Will you be buying your best friend that big ass diamond ring her worthless loser of a boyfriend won’t ever buy her?  Or will you be buying your mom and dad their own nursing home so they never have to live with you? Oh, even better, will you buy your own block so you can pick your neighbors?  I had an uncle that did that.  Boy, was he a smart one!

When it comes down to it, I feel like I’m Martin Luther King, Jr. with an I have a dream speech.  I’m telling you I could have all kinds of fun.  With my monopoly money, I’d send Casey Ashley to the president’s seat.  I’d build the best damn county fair the world has ever seen right there in Pott. County.  There’d be pool time for all 2 to 4 every day with the friends and family free discount year round.  And I’ll be damned if I won’t put Cox out of business (the cable company, not really out to get mankind – lol).  It’d be free blizzards and footlongs (hot dogs, not wieners of the male persuasion) for everyone!  For my friend Sara, I’d have cider beer on tap for her at every local watering hole.  There’d be a vintage Trans Am in the driveway for my hubs, shorthorns in the backyard, and an NFL Omaha Beef team on my doorstep.  (Peyton and Kurt, you’re coming to work for me!)

It goes without saying that my family would be the primary benefiters from my winnings, but there’s a school and church in a little Iowa town that would be taken care of if I had my say, too.  Honestly, I know I’ll probably never have that chance, but then I remember one valuable point:

We’re all in this duck taped, rickety ass boat together, and a girl can’t find no better company!

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