You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.
Winning 528 million dollars and then going to work the next day.
Huh?
That’s stupid like bathing with a toaster.
I’m watching a Memphis husband and wife at the Lottery office.
They are smiling, holding a gigantic check for 528 million dollars.
It’s a champagne wishes and caviar dreams kind of moment.
This country ass couple is making the rounds, showing off their good fortune.
The couple starts their day in New York City appearing on the Today.
THE POWERBALL WINNERS!
They show their ticket around the studio and take selfies with Al Roker, who looks like he wants to eat the golden ticket.
Are you kidding?
I’m watching in disbelief as the Memphis man pulls a folded powerball ticket out of his shirt pocket.
He holds it away from his body between his thumb and forefinger.
I watch the NBC anchors lick their chops like wolves eyeing a naked sheep.
I half expect a studio grip to dash into frame and grab the paper and bolt for the exit.
Afterall, the piece of paper is worth 528 million dollars.
It’s worth more than the building the couple is sitting in.
The Memphis man is so casual, so cavalier as he holds the powerball ticket.
It’s as if he doesn’t realize he has one of three tickets that an entire planet covets.
Does this Tennessee bumpkin not realize that the paper in his hand is the equivalent of Fort Knox.
It’s the paper version of gold bullion.
And he’s got it tucked in his shirt pocket like it’s a stick of chewing gum.
I’d have the ticket encased in kryptonite surrounded by a nuclear detonator.
If anyone tried to take my ticket, I’d have a pack of hungry wolverines trained by Navy Seals, snap off their hands.
If I won 50% of a billion dollars, the last thing I’m doing is traveling to NYC, walking through times square with 528 million dollars in my pocket.
What if?
What if someone found out he was carrying 1/2 a billion dollars on his person?
How safe is anyone carrying 1/2 a billion dollars?
I mean that’s a bottle of Boone’s Farm Wine for every human on Earth.
That’s some mean ass incentive to rob and steal.
500 million dollars in your pocket attracts crack whores and gutter snipes like hot sauce attracts Governors from New Jersey named Christie.
Can you imagine the wild scene as New York City bag ladies abandon their laundry carts, bum rush the winners, and then beat them silly with false teeth and old sneakers.
Suddenly Elmo and Underdog and other nefarious cartoon characters that fester in Times Square are pulling off their big sweaty heads and going postal on Mr. Memphis.
So I’m watching these Bumpkins from a town just north of Memphis.
They are so country, I want to roll tobacco on their foreheads.
What are they thinking?
Do they have no common sense?
Are they so backwoods, that standing in front of very TV camera on the planet is the answer to the question; How do we make ourselves a target for every scam artist on Earth?
The other two lottery winners from California and Florida have gone subterranean.
They are so silent, so deep, even they don’t know who they are anymore.
Instead of taking obnoxious selfies with Al Roker, they are huddling with a phalanx of lawyers, tax advisors and black ops paramilitary protection units.
One day they will emerge as ambiguous LLC’s with covert espionage innuendo.
You won’t know their names. You won’t see their faces. The checks will be cashed with all the fanfare of a plastic shopping bag floating away on the breeze.
These winners will pick up their checks and live happily ever after.
But the Memphis husband and wife?
They are in the spotlight and they are dumb. Rich, but dumb.
I’ve seen garden soil give better responses to the questions being posed.
Poor bastards.
The new conference illustrates a couple that is one part mush mouth and two parts meandering brain fart.
Reporters ask the couple if they will go to work Monday.
Yes, they say. Why wouldn’t we?
I have 528 million reasons why going everywhere but work is a great plan.
Maybe that big check makes you dumb.
Maybe all that lottery ink absorbs into the human endocrine system and like peyote in a Tee Pee on the great plains, the great spirit warrior speaks to their brains in code.
“Your life will not change. Everything remains the same,” the wind warrior of powerball riches screeches.
And so here they are, naked, dumb, holding more money than an entire city of loan sharks.
Perhaps they just don’t get it.
Life has changed forever.
But for John and Lisa Robinson it is just another Friday.
According to the AP, the couple said they plan to pay off the mortgage on their small house in Munford, Tennessee, pay off their daughter Tiffany’s student loans and go back to work.
When an incredulous news reporter asked why return to work, Lisa Robinson replied, “Why not?” Her husband added, “That’s what we’ve done all our lives.”
The Robinsons brought their dog to the news conference.
Of course they did.
It might as well be a bake sale at the PTA at the volunteer fire department.
Good luck Memphis people.
I hope you change your phone numbers and learn to say no.
Have fun Monday at work as every lecherous person you know gurgles up from the cesspool of your past and asks for a handout.
528 million reasons to run silent, run deep.
Life’s Crazy™