THIS is a huge part of what’s wrong with America: Entitlement.
I bought 4 lottery tickets over two weeks, just to have my one single chance to win the jackpot. Grand total cost: $8. I didn’t expect to win, because when the odds are astronomical against you, a rational person doesn’t expect it. But I had approximately a 0.00000034247% chance of winning just like everyone else.
I’ve never been to Las Vegas. I couldn’t call myself a “gambler,” except in the sense that I’ll proverbially light a match to $2 and buy a lottery ticket instead of a cup of coffee. I’m not an addict (except to coffee). The lottery ticket is stamped, and the adverts read, “please play responsibly.” And then there’s Cinnamon Nicole. Poor Cinnamon spent the rent money because she thought she’d win the billion dollar prize.
I followed the links to Go Fund me, and I can’t find the request. But a lot of media outlets have picked it up. I saw this one on twitter. It’s either bogus or she’s already got every penny she asked for. IF she got it, what the fuck is wrong with people? The story from 96.1 shows clearly that she intends to DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN!!!
I’m not entitled to reimbursement of my $8. Fuck me, I blew that $8 of my own free and irresponsible will and I don’t deserve shit. I’m gorgeous, and employed (really) and I wanted that prize more than anyone on the planet. Or a piece of it. But am I so financially irresponsible as to spend the fucking rent and food money on a 0.000273976% chance of winning? Fuck, no. Her odds DID improve, but she still fucking lost, just like I did my $8. She’s one of those people, that if she DID win the lottery it would be wasted.
I don’t even feel entitled to have someone give me $1. I’ve been the recipient of charitable actions, and I’m very grateful. When we hit financial hard times, my wife went to work asking around. And she got a job. And, some kind people felt inclined to help with gently used coats for our kids for this winter, and even a few presents at Christmas. I am blessed. But I’m not entitled. A gofundme account would be my statement of entitlement.
The government says I’m entitled to food stamps, but I haven’t signed up. We have enough food on the table. I don’t want the government to worry about little me, since we have better than a trillion dollar national debt already. I feel irresponsible too, which diminishes my sense of personal entitlement even more. I did not save up for my dental implants. I suppose that $8 could have gone into the $4K pot to eventually pay for two. But one wonders, while saving $8 every 2 weeks for 5 years to buy them, how many other teeth will crack? If the government and my employer can’t sponsor decent medical and dental insurance to make implants affordable on my income, I have another reason I don’t want to be on their doles.
Maybe I should just gofundme for all of my living expenses. What the hell, the world can pay my rent, buy our steak and wine, pay our medical and dental expenses and car repair and maintenance, and buy my wife something nice on top of everything else. If I could convince donors to meet my living expenses, I would set up a budget a little bigger than what we’re able to spend right now so I can eventually retire, and then live very conservatively. Just like I do right now. Or maybe not. Maybe the gofundme community could pony up $1.4B. “Is that a lot to ask?” he inquires, smiling just as cute as Cinnamon Nicole.
I have no desire to ever go to Las Vegas, or any other casino ridden place. And when the lottery tops $100M again, I’ll buy a single ticket, if I have an extra $2. If I used that $2 to buy my kids some random indulgence, like for instance, milk, or a dozen eggs, and I don’t have it extra, I won’t. I have certain priorities in life, so I’ll spend money on those important things first, if I have it. And if I don’t, I have to wait and juggle the priorities, like which broken car things to fix and which to tell the mechanic to “let it ride.” (As the great Craig Ferguson says, “Did you see what I did there?”) Yeah, just living in reality is enough of a gamble. The car could need more money, the kids, the wife, the house, the heat, could go (and have gone) out and require we spend it faster. It’s a gamble. Shit happens in real life and sometimes it costs more than the normal living expenses of clothes and rent and food and gas for the car. One has to have a plan, like I irresponsibly didn’t, for my aging teeth. For adult beverages. Or therapy.
Cinnamon, honey, you’re young and lovely and some very kind and generous people have given you a second chance at living in the real world. If I had done that, a lot of people would say, “you fucked yourself, so now you’re fucked, fucker!” But it didn’t happen for you, people were nice because you asked nicely and you’re absolutely beautiful, I know there are a lot of people who just can’t say no to someone with a pretty face. So now it’s time to grow up and learn a little bit about math. When you learn how to work with numbers, I mean really work with them, you’ll understand statistically that 0.00027 is almost the same as zero. The lottery is a fantasy and you have the same snowball’s chance in hell as everyone else, no matter how many tickets you buy. First, buy milk and groceries, pay the rent, put gas in the car, set a little aside for emergencies and retirement, and then, if you have an extra $2, (or $800, because if it’s your “mad” money, who gives a shit how much you spend?) you can light that up on a lottery ticket and I won’t call you part of the problem ever again.
I still can dream. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a few random people with an extra $75K a year they are itching to give to someone, plus the college funds for my kids. Not that I’m worthy, or entitled, but that I want it. It would be a huge raise in my wage, since right now we’re sitting somewhere in what the government considers poverty (but not filth and squalor, whatever the hell squalor adds to filth, since I like to clean). It would pay for my teeth. It would pay for our cars. Hell, I wouldn’t need two, since we wouldn’t need to have jobs, we’d only need one to go to the store. It would pay for nice food, and I’d be able to go out with my wife once in a while. It would pay for our haircuts and manicures. Right now, this handsome devil has his wife cut his hair and he cuts and files his own damn nails. I could buy a nice suit, from somewhere other than Goodwill. I’m not betting on it. I’m dreaming. Just let me dream.
Sooo, about Deon’s PleasePayForMyLifeForMeIWantToBeIrresponsibleToo account… who’s buying?!