Jan. 13--My dear readers, after minutes of soulful reflection, a half-hour of poorly executed transcendental meditation and a lengthy meeting with my spiritual adviser -- a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream that I named the Rev. Yum -- I have decided that this will be my final column.
While I've enjoyed my time on these pages, I now find myself in a financial position to accomplish greater things. There are islands to build, enemies to destroy, a pilot to hire so I have someone to fly a "YOU'RE A LOSER, DONALD" banner over every Donald Trump campaign rally.
The reason behind this decision is simple: I will be winning tonight's $1.5 billion Powerball. I realize that's hard to believe and that millions upon millions of other Americans are engaging in similar instant-tycoon daydreams ahead of Wednesday night's lottery drawing.
But there is one fundamental difference between me and those daydreamers: I'm right, and they're wrong. I have the winning numbers. Me. Me me me me. (I'm working on being more self-centered, as that's what newly minted billionaires do.)
I arrived at these numbers not through some silly, made-up strategy -- like using birth dates or cryptography or "mathematical algorithms" -- but through observation and simple common sense.
First off, what is the one thing President Barack Obama failed to bring up during Tuesday night's State of the Union address? (Besides the fact that, and this is true, people have been mailing sex toys to the "patriotic" militia members who are occupying a federal wildlife refuge in Oregon.)
The Powerball jackpot. He made no mention of this crucial economic driver.
That indicates to me that the president is involved with the lottery process, which explains why the biggest lottery winners during President George W. Bush's two terms were identified as "Norge W. Tush," "Jorge W. Busho" and "Notgeorge W. Bushthepresident."
I'm sure Obama has already won his fill of rigged lotteries and stashed the money in Kenyan back accounts, so the question is: Which numbers has he chosen for this epic Powerball drawing?
The first two numbers are easy. Throughout his presidency, Obama has been called the Antichrist, so, as a jab at his detractors, he would undoubtedly pick the numbers 6 and 66.
Logic would dictate that he would include the number 2, to represent his two terms in office, but standard logic is not what winners use to win Powerball jackpots. Obama, taking another whack at those who despise him, would surely pick 3, mocking the idea that he will find a way to serve a third term.
For the fourth and fifth numbers and the Powerball number, Obama will undoubtedly ... HAH! DID YOU THINK I WOULD ACTUALLY GIVE AWAY ALL OF MY WINNING NUMBERS?!?!
I wasn't born yesterday. Enjoy your daydreams, suckers, I'm not sharing that pot with any of you.
In advance of my richness, I have submitted the following letter of resignation to my superiors, who, from here on out, shall be referred to as "poors":
Dear poors:
I quit. Kiss my uber-wealthy fanny. Oh, and by the way, Dexter, I told your wife that you're having an affair. Maybe remember that the next time you tell a columnist that his fart joke seemed "lame and immature." Pthhhhtttttt!!!!!
-- Rex
I have also mapped out plans for my millions.
I will first form a super PAC to advocate tax breaks for the wealthy. I realize that past columns I've written make this seem hypocritical, but that was back when I was a regular person who cared. Now that I'm wealthy, I see that we must lower taxes on the rich and force the poor to lift themselves up by their bootstraps by taking low-paying jobs polishing my yacht(s).
I will aggressively buy up all of the guns in the Midwest then have them melted down and poured into a 50-foot-tall sex-toy mold. That phallic statue will then be shipped by rail to the militia members in Oregon, giving them something decorative to look at while America forgets them.
I will then buy Oregon and demand that the militia members leave immediately and take their perverted statue with them.
I will offer Kanye West and Kim Kardashian several million dollars to name their next baby either Jim or Betty, because I think that will somehow make the world a better place.
I will purchase the Chicago Tribune and then fire Dexter, who by then will be going through a costly divorce, thanks to me. (NEVER call my fart jokes lame.)
A few other minor plans:
--open a Dairy Queen franchise in my living room
--convert the spare bedroom into a "room full of puppies"
--pay Canada to take back Ted Cruz and force him to work in a used car lot (the U.S. dollar is very strong in Canada right now).
There will be more, of course, but it won't matter to you poors.
I know some of you are thinking, "But what if you're wrong, Rex? What if you don't win the Powerball? You'll keep writing columns then, right?"
I suppose there's a remote possibility that my numbers will be wrong. And if that happens, I'd like nothing more than to just pick up where we left off.
Although something tells me Dexter might have other plans for me.
rhuppke@tribpub.com
