Zombie Treehouse Wishes and George Clooney Dreams

The Powerball jackpot is up to half a billion dollars. Apparently, the chances of winning are 176 million to 1. I don't really understand odds, but I'm going to guess that's not great.

However, your chances of having some smug prick tell you you're an idiot for buying a ticket are 1 in, I don't know, 2? Is that a good chance?

Basically, if you are in a state with the Powerball and you are buying a ticket today, someone in your life is going to act like you're an idiot.

If you're housebound and you don't interact with other humans, you can just read a whole rant about it here.

Come on, it's $2 to spend a day indulging all your wildest daydreams. (For instance, my friend J.J. is going to build the Weirdly Positive Zombie Treehouse with his winnings.)

This got me thinking about what we spend our money on and how people don't sit around  smugly telling you what a dumb shit you are for buying those things even though it's probably not going to pan out for you.

For example:

Over-the-counter wrinkle cream. 
You spend $15 on it, you slather it on.
You dream about how young you are going to look.
YOU GET OLD ANYWAY.
You know why? Because, according to the American Academy of Dermatology, that stuff doesn't prevent or reverse wrinkles.

Cellulite cream.
You spend $15 on something called "Good-bye Cellulite" by Nivea. You slather it on.
You dream about how smooth your skin is going to look.
DREAM ON.
That stuff doesn't work either.

This is not you. You will not look like this.

I could go on with this. Shampoo that promises to smooth your wild hair, conditioner that promises to make your hair color last longer, diet pills, weight-loss shakes, etc.

Beer.
Wine.
Vodka.
You spend money on something to make you feel better about your life.
YOU WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING WITH A FUR COAT ON YOUR TONGUE.

We all spend money on all sorts of things we do not need to make us feel better, to make us feel hopeful, to encourage our dreams. Is it silly? Sure, it is.

But $2 isn't all that much to spend so you can imagine how you're going to buy your mom a new house; send your kids to college; visit the offices of Sallie Mae so you can pay off your student loan, demand to see someone named Sallie Mae, and tell her to kiss your ass; surprise everyone you know with enormous checks; buy decent health insurance; bid on one of those charity "Win a date with George Clooney" things; and spend every winter in Bora Bora.


No, you're not going to win. And if you do win, it's probably going to ruin your life.

But dammit, don't be the smug bastard that goes around telling people that.

If you're buying a ticket, please remember that I fully supported your decision to do so, that you have always been my favorite person, that we have something truly special, and that I loved you before you had a half billion dollars. Don't ever forget that.