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Thursday, August 01, 2013


that clinking clanking sound

there are always going to be those who are obscenely rich - that seems to be a universal given.
there will always be loads of us who want to become obscenely rich - just check out the rush to buy a lottery ticket any time there is a rollover.

i don't deny i harbour a desire to have more money than sense.
i would be quite happy to one day see my lottery numbers come up and suddenly be hip deep in pound coins. (of course this isn't likely to happen because the already very long odds of me picking a winning combination is made longer by the fact i rarely buy a lottery ticket).

of course the question of what would i do with the vast wealth that a big lotto win would bestow on me always reminds me of two conversations.
one was with my mum who loved to play the lottery. we'd be chatting about it and she would say it would be nice to win £500, then she would up it to £1000 a short while later it would be £5000, which quickly became £10000 and morphed into £25000 and before you knew it was then £50000, no sooner was that said than it was £250000. and so on.
she never won more than £10. she never stopped dreaming about that big win.

then there was the conversation at work - which wasn't as crass as the would you suck cock for a million pound debate that all the lads engaged in. the question was would you give any of your lottery win to your mates. it was a simple question that turned into quite a heated argument which made me smile. (though one does hope that mr. young hasn't had the good fortune to win big).

like everyone who plays the lottery i have my plans as to what to do with a big win.
some for friends.
some for charity.
some for some madcap ideas which may (or may not) include a photographic studio business; a coffee shop; a gallery and of course a old fashioned lingerie shop featuring not just skimpies but a selection of foundation wear (what can i say those home shopping catalogues had a long lasting effect).
or perhaps some odd amalgam of all of them - drink your coffee while looking at art just before having your portrait done in your new corset. (it is just a thought - though i may propose it to alan sugar).

in reality i suspect my winnings would mean that i became even more of a hermit and just communicated with the local pizza delivery guy.

however i'd like to think that i would do something interesting and worthwhile if i suddenly had a lot of money.
maybe that is why i felt a mixture of despair and anger when i read of a rather rich person commenting on how they had just come back from a photo session of their dog, and how their dog was a star.
i can understand taking your relatives to get their portraits done.
but your dog? isn't that what digital cameras are for? look there is our pet let's take a photo of it doing something funny. not let's take the dog to a professional photographer so we can get a high quality good enough to be framed and hung on the wall picture of the mutt licking its nether regions.

but then quite a lot of the very rich seem to have no concept of taste - that is the only excuse i can see for anyone who lives in hyde park one, a very ugly development of super expensive flats - i am guessing each and everyone of them has a photo of a dog sniffing its own bollocks - because dogs can do that sort of thing and the rich can have that sort of thing hanging on their walls simply because they can.

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