I shouldn’t be allowed to win the lottery…..

Forty Eight Million pounds was what last Fridays roll over Euro millions jackpot was advertised at. That is a ridiculous amount of money (and would, at my current paltry salary take over my lifetime to earn) and it is most definitely under the heading ‘life changing’ but would I be a force of good for humankind if I won? the answer is……well you decide.
How would it change your life though that is the question and one that I set about answering this lunchtime ably abetted by my beautiful assistant, (whose name is actually Kevin and it has to be said, neither beautiful or my assistant but, hey , that’s what literary license is for!)
After deliberating and daydreaming about what we’d do first if the big win came our way (exclusive holiday, somewhere very secluded and very warm to discuss what to do with the rest – fairly standard fare I’m sure you’ll agree) we started to get further into how we’d spend the rest of our loot and that’s when the cracks started to appear…..
I have come to the conclusion that you can tell alot about a person by how a large cash win would change them, would they give huge amounts to charity? would they move house? would they quit work? would they surround themselves with bling and fast cars? For us the problem was a little simpler than that in fact I think its safe to say we scared ourselves a tad with some of our ideas which, quite frankly would have nay normal person phoning the men in white coats to cart us away and lock us in one of those nice rooms with the padded wallpaper.
What’s the first thing that springs to mind for your initial impulse purchase, an Aston Martin?,ocean going yacht? Latvian internet order bride? nope, not for us, our decision on a first purchase was reached almost instantly and totally unanimously…….yes, you’ve guessed it, obviously it was a midget in a spider-man outfit (to be fair the spider-man outfit would only be donned at parties and when firing Nik Nak from our home made catapult, we’re not cruel…..) I know your first reaction might be one of distaste but think about it, Scarmanga had NikNak didn’t he, the little fella was happy as Larry (although if it had of been me I think I would have moaned about the uniform, full evening wear every day all day in that climate is going to really take it out of you!) not only was he a very cool accessory, he was a cordon bleu chef, I bet he made a mean cocktail and he can access all those hard to clean areas around the house – perfect! What’s more what could possibly be cooler at barbecues than a midget dressed as an umpa lumpa riding a large male black maned African lion around the garden (you might need spare midgets in case of accidental damage)
Not wanted to appear weird to any eavesdroppers the next thing we discussed was philanthropic donations, it would be churlish in the extreme to keep all that cash to ones self when our family and friends struggle with their mortgage payments and people are starving in the world, just one stipulation though, you take my money you have my name tattooed on you, simple really. No-one would mind would they? at a glace, wherever I was in the world I’d be able to tell whose lives I’d changed and who had hang-ups about tattoos or needles or whatever.
So that’s impulse buying and donations covered, lets move swiftly on to the obligatory volcano lair. Every multi millionaire melgomanic lottery winner needs one, why do you think the statistics for lottery winners filing for bankruptcy are so high, its not to do with bad advice and runaway spending, its to do with the soaring costs of constructing a volcano lair, simple supply and demand, a new lottery winner every week and only a very finite amount of suitable volcanoes to be lairised (a new word I have created especially for this article)
This lair by the way is Kevin’s brain child, not mine, (although I thoroughly agree with all his suggestions) it should have all the mod cons, hot tub, jacuzzi, heli pad (NikNak has to land his tiny spider ‘coptor somewhere) and would be accessed either through a false sliding door volcano floor or from under water, naturally…… The lair staff will be all female and hand picked, the selection process being very rigorous, very rigorous indeed and only the applicants that really want ‘it’ will pass muster (or the ones than can tuck both feet behind their head) Uniforms will be designed by us and will consist of not very much at all (this, obviously is for the sake of the staff, in can get very stuffy in a volcano lair and we wouldn’t want them getting hot and sweaty now would we)
So what now, we have our lair staffed with scantily clad lovelies, we’ve dolled out cash to the poor and needy and we have a midget man servant, it can’t get better than that can it? we’ll that’s what we thought until Kev starting remembered excerpts from a has-been sixties rockers biography he has read, now its all changed, the goal posts have moved so far we are in a different time zone and we are really starting to get into this, we need, nee demand, a throne on a milk float, a helicopter complete with life sized dangling father Christmas stuffed with ox entrails (its to scare as yet undiscovered tribes in the Amazon basin…..its best not to ask) Oliver Reid is to be disinterred and brought back to life just so we can paint the town a deep shed of red with the maestro himself, learn how its really done. A ninja army (female and scantily clad of course) must be assembled and be at our beck and call, rather like our new pet polar bear Dave.
I could go on further into our fantasy (it started as a day dream but soon crossed the threshold from day dream to fantasy pretty much around the point when we started discussing the interview process for the lair staff) but I won’t – its personal, and besides its our idea not yours, come up with your own daydream and if its half as weird as ours you should be locked up!