You’re better off praying for some calamity to befall your neighborhood, especially if you’re black. Those odds are so grim, in fact, that I’d advise all of you to consider a much easier path to fame and fortune. Congratulations are in order for the newly minted billionaire, as the odds of winning the prize money stood at 1-in-292.2m, meaning you had a better chance of waking up one day as Ted Cruz, winning the Republican nomination for president, impregnating yourself like in the movie Junior, then giving birth to a clone of Ed Koch than walking away with that cash. Lines of miserable, desperate Americans formed outside of liquor stores, and it wasn’t even Christmas. That astronomical figure worked up normally sane individuals into a frothy mixture of avarice and maniacal delusion. The jackpot hit a staggering $1.6bn before it was finally claimed.
Mercifully, someone won the Powerball lottery on Wednesday night – a mystery man or woman in Chino Hills, California, a town I’ve probably driven through on the way to Palm Springs and didn’t even notice.
