Friday, March 11, 2011

Is this Supposed to be Depressing?



A nice middle-aged couple trying hard to enjoy their golden years finds that difficult because their twentysomething son will not move out of the house.

It's not that he's psychologically immature and not ready to leave the next, apparently; it's that he simply cannot afford a place of his own.

So his parents respond by buying their son....lottery tickets. In the hopes that he will strike it rich, and move out.

Makes it a lot easier to understand why this kid is still living at home, at least. I mean, these are supposed to be his parents. The people who were supposed to teach him the basic values of thrift, hard work, and financial independence. If their answer to "how do we get him to leave?" is buying him scratch-off tickets from the Virginia Lottery, we can only imagine what lessons this kid has actually been fed over the course of his lifetime. It's just a shame that no one ever called Child Protective Services.

Meanwhile, "parents:" This is what you've created. This kid is not going to ever leave your home, because he has no idea how to make and save money. Because he was raised by two people with modeling clay stuffed between their ears, where normal people keep their brains. So you're stuck with your worthless little monster. Just do me a favor- when you send him to 7-11 for more Scratchers, don't do it when I'm trying to get my morning cup of coffee, ok? Because I've got things to do, and there's nothing more aggravating than being stuck behind these lotto addicts as they are trying to select just the right pieces of cardboard to waste their weekly take-home on.

4 comments:

  1. "If you really want something in life you have to work for it. Now quiet, they're about to announce the lottery numbers." -- Homer Simpson

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  2. Totally agree, Dreaded. One time last week, I had to wait five minutes to buy my coffee because a woman in front of me was trying to carefully pick out just the right scratch-offs while her 2-year old daughter played on the counter. Then she let the kid hold the pretty tickets like they were toys. So the next generation is getting set up, too.

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  3. Just do me a favor- when you send him to 7-11 for more Scratchers, don't do it when I'm trying to get my morning cup of coffee, ok? Because I've got things to do, and there's nothing more aggravating than being stuck behind these lotto addicts as they are trying to select just the right pieces of cardboard to waste their weekly take-home on.

    What's worse are the people who come in every day with their endless list of numbers, which they superstitiously and compulsively play every. damn. day. And spend about 20 minutes having their tickets made: "2473 straight. 2473 box. 9201 straight. 9201 box. 3285 straight. 3285 box." And so on, as the line gets longer and longer. No doubt, these folks never sit down to compare the amount of money they spend on lottery tickets versus how much they get in payouts.

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  4. At least the people who insist that Marlboro 100s in the soft silver pack somehow taste so different than the Marlboro 100s in the hard red pack that the clerk getting the order wrong is a reason to groan in frustration and point at random stacks of smokes again have an excuse- an actual, medical addiction to drugs. I don't get these lottery idiots at all- any more than I understand how the person in front of me at Starbucks even developed a taste for Orange Mocha Frappachinos with Extra Cream and a shot of Expresso, who always seem to show up the two times a year I drop in for a black coffee.

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