Eat your heart out Fox News. Yesterday CNN posted the headline "Cowboy who won $232 million lottery known as ‘good kid'." PHEW! As I stared down at the pieces of my losing Powerball ticket, euphoria suddenly overwhelmed me. I realized that I was worried that the dude who allowed his girlfriend to stay in the bathroom until her ass was grafted to the toilet seat had won the lottery for the 3rd time in a year. It's about time that a lucky loser was so decent that a media outlet voluntarily ruined its worldwide credibility by deeming him newsworthy. I just have one thing to say to you, Neal Wanless. Go fuck yourself. That was my money.

Neal Wanless, holding Powerball lottery check
You can take the cowboy out of South Dakota but you can't take South Dakota out of the cowboy.
Oh wait, that's right, you're a "good kid," which in American dollars should be worth at least 6 or 7 million to me. I could live off of that for a little while, but I'll probably be back for more in a year or so. MC Hammer Syndrome strikes all lottery winners to a degree, but you've been cursed by a sparkling headline and shoddy reporting. People will be lining up in droves to suck on the teet of the chosen one. Sure the article suggests that you were the salutatorian of your class, but that was in rural South Dakota, and I'm sure they didn't teach you anything about the concept of present value. You'll be a sucker and take the annuity, leaving you financially backward due to the millions you are going to give away each year. Let's be serious, go out and buy that Prada Doosh Bag and get it over with. You ain't no savior.

You'll probably just waste the money on 20,000,000 enormous, foam cowboy hats or 10,000,000 "W" fatheads.Why am I supposed to care that you were a good kid BEFORE you won the lottery? Isn't it all about what you do with the money that people give a shit about? Maybe you should change your name to Bruce Wayneless and use your newly found fortune to fight crime in Pierre, the city of total anarchy. Or perhaps stage a coup and have the Midwest cede from the union in order to save marriage. You would be a golden god, preaching the words of Jesus and forcing the unenlightened to lap up holy water from a dust bowl, ya know?

My favorite quote:

"There was a sign out there that said ‘the ranch that God built,'" said Joe Prue, father of Mike Prue. "And for a while there you thought, where was God when everything was coming apart. And now, maybe God helped them."

Is God rigging the lottery these days to save young chaps with rusted spurs? Did you guys have some sort of deal worked out where he gets like 70% of the winnings? Did God have to go into hiding while your house and farm were being foreclosed on and you had to move into a camper simply to give the illusion that he had nothing to do with the pulling of your powerballic V card? Does God hate me because I wasn't considered to be a worthy partner in crime? Jesus Christ. I'd kill in his name if he just gave me some digits.

You'll probably just waste the money on 20,000,000 enormous, foam cowboy hats or 10,000,000 "W" fatheads…you know, great investments. Then, you'll finance a reality TV show about yourself and have the audacity to call it "The American Dream" or "Cowboy Up" because you think people actually care. It would fail of course and Neal, you'll be ruined.

The next few years will be spent dipping your face in cow shit that you found on the land formerly known as "The ranch that Neil built," chowing on some fresh mushrooms to help cope with the pain of not being given enough money in the first place. You'll have to take that ironic job at a dude ranch on broke ass mountain getting paid quarters to do horrible, horrible things. Finally, if you're lucky, you'll become senile and the tune of "Happy Trails" will repeat in your head over and over as you ride off on your 15-year-old steed into the sunset and die of heat stroke.

How do I know all of this? It's exactly the way I would do it.