You know what? I'm sick of not winning the lottery. The injustice has gone on far too long. So I decided, about five minutes ago, that I'm going down to the corner store and buying a lotto ticket and, by tomorrow: say hello to millionairemonster.
See, my thought is this: most people just buy a lotto ticket on a whim or out of the same obligatory gambling instinct that makes people go to the dog track.* Me? I only buy one when it's a sure thing. And this, ladies and gentleman, is a sure thing. In fact, I need to buy it now, for fear that I forget to capitalize on my foolproof plan to become an accidental tycoon.
"Hey, buddy. How can I help you?"
"I need a lotto ticket. I'm planning on winning."
"You sure about that buddy?"
"Deadly sure...better make it two tickets."
"Ok, buddy. Good luck."
But see, I don't need luck. Luck is for saps. I'm making reservations for a lobster dinner. I'm calling Wesley Snipes and letting him know "Simon Phoenix, I got you covered." I'm bidding on houses on eBay. This can't turn out badly. After all, I let the lotto robot choose my numbers and if I've learned anything from watching 2001 and The Terminator it's this: Always trust the robot.
While I wait for my innevitable windfall, I thought I'd make a brief announcement. Tomorrow night, we're playing an SF Weekly shindig at the Warfield. A few things worth mentioning here: 1) SF Weekly had more GAP ads this week than articles. It's daunting, but, worth mentioning if only for the sheer bredth of celebrities involved: Mary J. Blige, Spielberg, that speed-skating guy who, for no real, discernable reason, is naked with a GAP headband on. At least they're all alive. Kudos for that. 2) We play early. In fact, we play first. This means, roughly, right when doors open. Foolishly, we'd originally planned on being in Salt Lake City the next evening before realizing the Autobahn was in Germany, so we asked to play early. Silly Birdmonster. We're on at 8. So if you're coming, come early. Awards will be given to people who are not us. I will buy them with the $41 million I'm due to inheret around dinnertime tomorrow. Should be fun.
* If you've never been to the dog track, it's basically the height of degenerate gambling sadness. Ill-fed canines chasing a surprisingly loud roborabbit while shower-phobic guys in trenchcoats half-heartedly scream "bitch" then rip their tickets in half. Fun for the whole family, really. Take the kids.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
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10 comments:
I'd hate to hurt you, but I must state that there is no way you can win the Lotto since the next jack pot is MINE!
On a happier note. I finally bought my tickets for the Warfield show.
Sabrina: When I win, I'll buy the Shermans their very own lobster dinner. If I'm wearing a tux tomorrow, you know why.
I have given up on the lottery. The only people that seem to win are either old 85 year old ladies (who already had two tickets, had a dream, bought one more, and won on two of the three tickets!!) or millionaires already. Instead, I have resorted to calling into the radio station during their "Beat the Bank" segments. You can win up to $500,000!! Honest! All you have to do is keep picking the next door. The kicker...you have to stop before you hear the bell. If you hear the bell, you're screwed and lose any and all of the cash you could have won, if you weren't so damn greedy. I haven't been able to get through to the station yet. Their blocking my calls, I'm sure.
Good luck to you though!
JT, Hmmm lobster......If I win I'll pay off your van!
However, pending 1 very expensive lobster dinner!
There was a "This American Life" that had a story where the entire touring company of Riverdance pooled their money and bought a bunch of mega millions lotto tickets.
The night of the lottery drawing they did this crazy frenzied Riverdance for millions...and then they were shocked when none of the tickets was a winner.
But birdmonster is much better than the second-string Riverdance...
Kasi: I don't need luck, but thanks. It's as good as mine. Someone's gotta break the old-widow, marine, millionaire run of perfection. It's a good thing it's me.
Sabrina: Deal. CA lotto or Mega-12-State-Impossible-to-Win-Lotto-of-Death?
Elvette: I guess I'll cancel my date with Michael Flatley then...shit...plan B.
All I'm saying is if you're inspired to dance for the millions, I would lean toward the bollywood Thriller dance moves.
If I knew it would help I'd light a bonfire here on the Embarcadero,slap on my moccasins, braid my hair, and prance around like a loon.
Anyone want to dance?
We are content to wait until Birdmonster becomes the uber-rock group with millions flowing in from tours, merch and royalties.
We have the mansion picked out...the requisite tribute to fawning parents.
Elvette: Good call. Alls I need is the red leather jacket. Oh yeah, and moves. I need some moves.
Sabrina: It might help. At least it'd be hilarious if I saw you on my lunch break.
DD: 4 bed, 3 bath right? You're not greedy. And a small pond stocked with brownies of course.
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