Win­ners must be forced to have Lotto fun

Midweek Sport - - NEWS -

NOTH­ING gets my back up more than the sight or sound of some­one else be­ing happy – ex­cept the sight of peo­ple be­ing ab­so­lutely SH*TE at be­ing happy.

Take Matt Topham and his fi­ancée Cassey Car­ring­ton. Ten­der 22-year-olds, the pair of them. You re­mem­ber – that hideously dull cou­ple from Not­ting­ham who won £45 mil­lion on the Eurolotto.

She’s in­sist­ing on keep­ing her job mar­shalling fel­low fish fin­ger flog­gers in Ice­land.

Him, a painter and dec­o­ra­tor, quite fan­cies a new mo­tor.

And their first three pur­chases?

Out of – you know – FORTY FIVE MIL­LION F***ING QUID?

A wash­ing ma­chine. A com­puter. And a f***ing TENT. Hello? If at the very least you don’t im­me­di­ately have your cock trans­planted with an elephant’s trunk and your balls re­placed with 24 carat golden orbs, what in f***’s name are you play­ing the lot­tery for in the first place?

When I’m Prime Min­is­ter, the first piece of leg­is­la­ture signed will ad­dress that when win­ning the lot­tery, you will im­me­di­ately buy JLS – and as­sas­si­nate them, start­ing, it

ED Miliband. C***!

is al­most need­less to say, with the back­flip­ping c*** – de­velop a gal­lop­ing ad­dic­tion to cheap bleach and marry some­one who may pos­si­bly have once been a bloke. Or maybe even an an­i­mal.

Room 101? Get in there, you pair of c***s.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.