15 May 2009

The Tax on Dreams

The Lotto 6/49 has a jackpot of $40 million tomorrow night. I don't normally buy tickets, but I might do it for tomorrow.

See, I'm not a complete fool. I know I will not win, But I might, and I can dream about what I would do if I did, and that's worth two bucks to me. Lotteries are a tax on dreams, but this is a tax I don't mind indulging in from time to time.

In fact, I enjoy dreaming about it so much, when I buy a ticket I put off checking the numbers as long as possible. As I said, I know I won't win. I am a loser from a family of losers. But for as long as I put off checking the numbers, I can dream that the numbers in my pocket are the winning numbers.

My dreams are such that it is most likely for the best that I never win the money. I would be a jerk with that kind of cash.

To give you an idea of what kind of jerk I would be, I will tell you one of my more pleasant dreams. Highlight the area below to see it. Warning: The following is not Catholic. Stop here if you feel you might be offended. You have been warned.

I would take out a commercial on television. Just me and a camera. And I would say to the camera and the audience:

Hello, my name is Bear, I have just won forty million dollars, and the following people can kiss my @$$.

My boss and fellow coworkers, if you think I am showing up at work on Monday.

My high school teachers who said I would never amount to anything. I didn't, but I'm still a millionaire anyway and you're not. Pucker up.

All the girls back in high school who wouldn't go out with me because I wasn't good enough for you. How do you like my @$$ now?

Any old friends and or relatives who haven't been in contact with me for the last ten years, not even to send a Christmas Card. Don't bother trying to renew contact now, unless the contact is between your lips and my posterior.

Any charities out there who want to soak me for some of my dough. I have a list of charities to whom I intend to make some donations, but don't call me, I'll call you. if you do call me, your name will be struck from that list and put on another: the list of people who can kiss my @$$.

Lastly, I would like to invite the entire world at large to just pucker up and plant one on my backside. I won, you didn't, and you can all just kiss my @$$.

Thank you.

This has been a paid presentation by the "Bear-i-tone kiss my @$$ foundation," a non-profit organization dedicated to the over-inflation of Bear's ego.

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