that's funny. i refer to 'winning lottery ticket syndrome' in my line of work. when a salesman suspects that their customer has bad credit, they sometimes become hesitant to run the credit. for much the same reason.

Why I never play the lottery:

Many years ago, back when snakes could walk, I lived in New Hampster and they had this lottery wherein you bought a ticket for five dollars and you had five chances to pick a combination of six numbers from 1 to 36.

The jackpot was five or ten or twenty or a hundred million dollars.

I never bought those tickets considering them a tax upon people who don't understand math. I was at the grocery stoare and I saw the five hundred and sixty million dollar jackpot and figured I'd spend five bucks and buy a ticket.

I chose five sets of six numbers. I decide to pick unique numbers, not choosing the same number twice, so when I was done I had chosen 30 out of 36 numbers. It occured to me that for another five bucks I could choose the remaining six numbers I hadn't selected, and thereby cover all my numeric bases. But I figured if I was going to play this stupid game of chance I'd give myself one chance. You know, when it's your time, it's your time, all that crap.

So the next day they read off the numbers, big fanfare. And the winning numbers were THE SIX NUMBERS I DIDN'T CHOOSE.

There are many ways to interpret that event, input the data into your cosmology and the cosmic muffin will oracle all kinds of things.

Me? I took it as a sign that I was not meant to play the lottery.

Hi Lo poker maybe. the lottery? Not so much, I think.

you dumbass. you figured out how to win every time. just do that thing in that long post up there ^ , and play the numbers that are left. gah!

Dood, where were you when I needed you?

I coulda been a contender...

coulda shoulda woulda...

Aliantha, I love Australian movies, and I'm not just talking Nick Roeg, but for god's sake hon, get out and do some road work! :)

Charlie: Look, kid, I - how much you weigh, son? When you weighed one hundred and sixty-eight pounds you were beautiful. You coulda been another Billy Conn, and that skunk we got you for a manager, he brought you along too fast.
Terry: It wasn't him, Charley, it was you. Remember that night in the Garden you came down to my dressing room and you said, "Kid, this ain't your night. We're going for the price on Wilson." You remember that? "This ain't your night"! My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart! So what happens? He gets the title shot outdoors on the ballpark and what do I get? A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville! You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have to take them dives for the short-end money.
Charlie: Oh I had some bets down for you. You saw some money.
Terry: You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it. It was you, Charley.

In anticipation of next week, I would like a Rivendell bicycle, please. Their main model if you win, Quickbeam if not (although probably just the frame; I would want to ride it flipflop fixed/free.)

Road work?

That's a beauty. If I had a camera I'd take a shot of my vintage bike. similarly handmade.

I once was drinking "mega ritas" in a bar in New Hampshire called the Rivendell. After getting as high as is possible on Tequila and still breathing, I went out to the porch of the bar for a breath of air. I saw a Schwinn Continental (aka the lead sled) parked thereon. Some idea crept upon me and I decided to climb aboard and go for a turn on the wheel (cf Gorey) Within moments I was heading South on I93 near Franconia. A minute or so later my pals had detected my absence formo the bar and sought me out. They commandeered a station wagon (c.1980) and overtook me on the highway, confiscating my purloined bicycle and delivering me back to the Rivendell bar, bike returned to the porch it's owner none the wiser of his bike's peregrinations.

Tequila.

It's something that a friend of mine used to say all the time (quoting his soccer coach, who was a Scot) "Ya can git the ball through the net laddie, but fer chris sake, go out and do some road work" meaning stamina, staying power, or experience.

It was a jab at not knowing a line from a seriously famous American film.

Yes well, I'm feeling pretty anti-intellectual today

Over here today is tomorrow.

Well I'll be back to my intellectual self again yesterday then.

Just bought my ticket for this week.
Was pleased to hear that no-one won the jackpot, so it is now up to £88m (US $167,094,400 AU $217,624,000)

Am pleased to hear my money didn't go to some damn furriner.... despite making plans to spend it on other furriners :)

My grandparents' home, and my family still owns land there.