Winners must be forced to have Lotto fun

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.