Clean Living in the Great Midwest


by JRM

January 19, 2005

How many times per month would you folks say that you have to listen to somebody talk about what they’ll do when they win the lottery? For me, it’s about 4 times a month. The people at work have this little pool where everybody puts in 5 or 10 bucks and somebody goes and buys a shitload of tickets. Twice a week, they ask me if I would like to join in. I suppose I should be flattered that they think of me or whatever, but it’s pretty freaking annoying. I always tell them without any hesitation, “No thanks guys, I drove to work this morning throwing dollar bills out the window of my car.” I have about the same chance of winning and there are better odds that the money will go to someone that needs it.

I have come to believe that its human nature to annoy the shit out of someone by talking endlessly about the subject that said person has been dumb enough to admit that they hate. For example, I abhor everything about auto racing. I am truly happy for you if auto racing brings you joy; but please just leave me out of it. I would rather have my nuts tied to a tree with fishing line than watch a NASCAR event and I won’t hesitate to inform you of that fact when you start yakking about the Nextel or Winston or whatever-it-is-now Cup. When I ask someone to shut up about auto racing, their response is always the same…they start telling me about a truck race. I’m convinced that the only way out of this conversation is to just go ahead and plunge a letter opener into my eardrum. How sweet the silence will be. I am a little surprised that we don’t get news updates about people committing earicide a little more often:

“A Seattle housewife committed earicide early Tuesday when her husband of twenty-seven years began retelling the story of the time he scored the game-winning touchdown in the 1973 State Championship Game…”

“A woman committed earicide at a local hot spot last night after being told for the 146,768,254th time that she looked like Darryl Hannah…”

And so it goes with the lottery. “When I win the lottery I won’t have to put up with this shit.” Or, “When I win the lottery, I’ll be out of here so fast that your head will spin.” And finally, “I don’t play the lottery until it gets up above 60 million, but when I win, I’m going to fight my boss.” Morons. It’s always the same and it never stops. You aren’t going to win the lottery, why don’t you read a book and tell me about that for a change?

Nobody ever does it right. When I win the lottery, I’m going to do three things. First, I am going to pay my bills and buy a house in the middle of nowhere. Second, I am going to send out a mass e-mail to everyone that I know is going to ask me for money and tell them that they can have jobs at my new cable network. Finally, I am going to start a cable network that has three shows: The Bong-Hit Show, The Sucker Punch Show and The-Watch-the-Guy-Who-is-Really-Good –At-Watching-TV-Show. The three shows will run in eight-hour blocks once a day. Here’s the bible for each of these projects:

The Bong-Hit Show: Personally, the stuff just doesn’t agree with me. However, I’ve always been fascinated by the ritual. The show would be nothing more than a bunch of people in a dorm room taking turns hitting a six-foot piece of paraphernalia. We would catch the paranoia, the story telling, the munchies and the drama that is the stoner world. And the advertising dollars!! The support from the Little Debbie Corporation alone will take care of the operating costs.

The Sucker Punch Show: Call me childish, but the two funniest images stored in my head are the Olympic boxing judge getting knocked out by accident (as seen during the opening sequence of Malcolm in the Middle) and Bart Simpson breaking a chair over Homer’s back while he’s in the tub. I am cracking up right now just thinking about it. I would pay anyone who is willing to sign a release medical expenses plus $500 for agreeing to take an unexpected punch in the gut and $750 for the face. You would sign the form and then not hear from us for a long time. Then one day while you’re at the grocery store knocking on various melons…POW!! You would fall to the ground and melons would fly everywhere. Call me juvenile, but that would never get old.

The-Watch-the-Guy-Who-is-Really-Good –At-Watching-TV-Show: This is for the overnights when you’re close to passing out, but still want to channel-surf. Nothing funny about it really – I’d just pay a guy to stay up for eight hours and find the best thing on while avoiding commercials. We’d switch back and forth between Ultimate Dodgeball and the infomercials for that dehydrator thing. You can drift in and out of consciousness without the fear of waking up to Ishtar or some crap.

There it is, the best “when I win the lottery” plan yet. Unfortunately, I don’t play the lottery. How about instead of giving your money to the lottery this week, you send it to me? I will disperse one percent equally among the learning institutions of your choice and spend the rest making my dream a reality. I promise, it’s a much better deal than what you’ve got going on now.



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