The lap dance was how much?


Youth may, indeed, be wasted on the young. But on a confounding level of waste, I feel more inclined to offer this axiom: Wealth and luck are wasted on the stupid.

Dateline West Virginia. Indoors at the Pink Pony (yes, the Pink Pony). Jack Whittaker, the man who won a Christmas miracle $314 million powerball jackpot, is drunk and confused.

The deeply Christian man had only stepped into the Pink Pony, one of several strip joints he frequents, for a few dozen drinks. Why bother bringing in his briefcase. It might get in the way of Ms. Hicksville’s crotch-grinding-for-dollars exercise. The fact that he was carrying more than half a million dollars in the briefcase and the poetic silliness of the entire situation must have escaped Mr. Whittaker about the time he slipped a hundy in the g-string of Ms. Pregnant West Virginia.

If he had been truly lucky, he would’ve had to take a pee in the parking lot about the time somebody decided to make off with the $500,000 brief case. Unfortunately for Mr. Moneybags, his old crotch was otherwise occupied.

Justice would have the thief in Aruba right now, sucking on a frozen-fruity drink and lighting cigars with $20 bills. But the thief was even more stupid. He left the briefcase behind the dumpster. Must have found the highlighters and got to huffing. Mr. Whittaker was allowed to wait out his drunken-brain before he left the strip club at 5am.

I wouldn’t be so vituperative if it hadn’t been for Whittaker’s holier-than-holy efforts to fund Church of God charities with his winnings. I have no moral disagreement with strip clubs. I have no moral problem with gambling (a possible reason given for Whittaker carrying around so much money). I do have a problem with hypocrisy, however.

Now, if it had been me, and I still had the male need to see naked woman and gamble, I would bring the naked women to my own personal casino and hire two big mountain men to guard my briefcase. But that’s just me.

All silliness aside, I think Whittaker’s issue points directly (and, perhaps, erectly) to something I’ve come to believe about man. No amount of money, no amount of happiness, no amount of comfort will soothe the human being’s nature to seek out its carnal needs. We, friends, are animals. We deny, we deny, we deny our nature. But like the frog an scorpian, we can’t deny what we are. Fucking animals. We know what we want. We either take it or kill ourselves by denying it.

Give an animal a hundred million bucks and watch what he does with it.

Update from the Associated Press

CHARLESTON, W.Va. — A strip club manager and his girlfriend are accused of drugging a Powerball winner and stealing some of his money.

Police in West Virginia say Jeffrey Caplinger and Misty Arnold drugged Jack Whittaker inside the club Monday. They say Caplinger then took $545,000 from Whittaker’s vehicle as it idled outside the club.

Police say Caplinger broke into his own car and took some items to cover up the alleged robbery.

The money was recovered. The couple was arrested on robbery charges and face up to 18 years in prison each if convicted.

Whittaker was already a millionaire businessman when he hit the nearly $315 million jackpot on Christmas day. He claimed a $113 million cash option.

Brad Willis

Brad Willis is a writer based in Greenville, South Carolina. Willis spent a decade as an award-winning broadcast journalist. He has worked as a freelance writer, columnist, and professional blogger since 2005. He has also served as a commentator and guest on a wide variety of television, radio, and internet shows.

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