On Winning the Lottery – Mine I Tell You

Honey, I won the lottery. What do you mean WE won the lottery? Nah, get that straight, it's "I" won the lottery. Ooops, should I remind you of those papers you signed? The ones that were a prenuptial that entitles you to nothing less, and nothing more than a bit of lint from my belly button, some neosporin because well you're uhmmm, f****d (this is a G rated site trying to keep things clean here) for the chaffing, and a save the tatas sticker I got for free when I went to Cancun with your best friend. (Don't be jealous, I trust(ed) you, so that should mean you would trust me…right?)Geez, what's a guy gotta do? Put soap in your mouth? Hmmm? No need to curse, there's no doubt you're upset, you should have thought better before you went visiting the neighbor…for sugar (though there was plenty in the larder). Tell you what? I'll forward to you a check to pay for the plastic surgery you'll need to become perfect. Remember all our conversations regarding being just "right". Making an effort wouldn't have hurt. So, as you know, this is my attempt to help you along. No need for an effusive thank you, I know you're grateful. (Did you hurt your finger? Why are you showing it to me?)

Yes, yes, I know that you thought I was the one that needed to put in the effort, fix this, fix that, but alas, I've got money now, I AM now perfect. No need to worry about me, you're so sweet, always thinking of my well being. How exercise, tight this, hard that would help make you "love" me better. Am well aware that you're thankful, I still think of you fondly, so with that in mind I will still send you that gift.

That entitles you to the following (yes, I know am so generous, no, no need for compliments.) rhinoplasty (non animal related, though once you come out, you sure do look like you got mauled by one.) that honker of yours grew I think (I'd mumble the pinocchio song, but I don't remember it), next is some botox, all that scowling will give you wrinkles, you need to stay fresh and look fresh for the next…sucker. I think the neighbor is married, don't bother. I hear, there's a wealthy doctor moving in across the street from here. So what if he "bats" for the other team. That's perfect for you. He gets a trophy wife that will serve as cover, you get to "play" to your hearts content.

Since this is a deep set generosity that comes straight from the heart, if I can talk you into a bit of lipo, a facelift (including chin sculpting because yours is a bit on the "not there" side), hair extensions, I will be happy to cover those as well. Alright. That's it.

I've got to get ready for the press conference now. Wouldn't want to keep the press waiting. Weren't you the one that had dreams of becoming famous? Guess what? I get to be on T.V. Ok that was childish, if there weren't so much…"sugar" between us, I'd say WE won the lottery, but alas, my sweet, it is what it is.

No, am sorry, I didn't mean to be vindictive, there's not need for that. Now, now. Put that chair down, I know it's only Ikea, but darn it, even though I can now afford something better I like that one. Plus, it's every millionares prerogative to be sure that his/her millions don't go away, and the only way to do that is to well: not spend it replacing what works perfectly well. What about your gift? Oh, right, yeah you're right. I did promise. Well consider it done.

Anyway, as I was saying, I'll be seeing you. Don't forget to take the sugar bowl, you may need to go out…and borrow some…more. Say hi to the uhmmm doc.

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