I'm Going to Win the Lottery

That's right. Saturday night. All the numbers. Squillions of dollars. The reason I'm going to win is because it's due me. I have a right to win. I've worked all my life and it's time for my ship to come in. I'm tired of working.  I want to write. Just write. Write write write write write. On my boat. A big boat. With a captain and a butler. All the amenities. AND a personal secretary. She must be young, curvaceous, and unable to scream loud, run fast, or fight back. I'm too old for all that.

I think I'll dock somewhere in Oregon. Sail up to Alaska and back down the Canadian coast, flying a an old Soviet Union flag...just to make 'em wonder. Then, I'll go on down the Washington coast, the Orgegon coast (again), the California coast (flying a flag with a picture of Pelosi, a circle around her head with a slash through it...like Ghostbusters) and then on down the Baja peninsula to get my 100 pounds of marijuana. Not to sell...it would be for personal use.

After that, I think I'll dock in the Catalinas. Take a break, make some new friends that are filthy rich like me (so they will have no need to ask me for money), drink a few mai-tais and watch the sun set about 365 times before I leave.

Pulling up anchor, I'll sail down to the Panama Canal and come out on the other side. Have to make a stop in Brazil and see what all the fuss is about concerning Brazilian women. Back up to Venezuela to shoot the bird at Chavez, then on to the Caymans. I'll swing by the western tip of Cuba and shoot the bird at Castro, if he's still alive, and into the Gulf of Mexico. I'll pass by the coast of Texas and pretend I never came from there. I'll have my nose stuck in the air and take on a stupid sounding English accent and say, "How boorish those Americans are!". Skirting Lousiana, Mississippi and Alabama, I'll hug the coast of Florida and wave at my good friends there...then forget I ever knew them, too. Curving around Florida's tip, I'll stop at the Keys and have a few more mai-tais (I love those little umbrellas) and make some new rich friends. Then, it's off to the Bahamas at Staniel Cay where I will drop anchor and enjoy the beauty of the Caribbean for a while.

Then I...I...what? I'm dreaming? Oh well. Can't a man dream every now and then?