‘Cause you see I’m on a losing streak….

I can’t get no. Oh, no no no. Hey, hey, hey, that’s what I say

I can’t get no, I can’t get no, no satisfaction

Mick Jagger was singing about something else entirely but it’s the only lyric I could recall mentioning a losing streak (although I was imagining Cat Power’s version with its air of melancholia)

It was a weekend of highs and lows, low because I failed again to win the caption contest over at The Good Greatsby, and high as I won £10 on the lottery.  

The lottery win was a rollercoaster in itself, a high followed by a  low.   From the moment an email pings into my inbox claiming there is good news waiting for me, anticipation increases as you log in to your account imagining what you’re going to spend your millions on, until all is revealed and the figure staring back at you is £10.  A low then ensues when reality bites when you remember you’re gonna still have to queue up at the airport.

I’ve made the 5 person shortlist on the GG’s caption contest a few times, very respectable and always a pleasant surprise to lift a Sunday hangover.   It’s stiff competition though, I make a promising start before they leave me trailing in their wake.

These sentiments were echoed recently at the excellent Ramblings, kindly offering me a loan of the bridesmaid dress in the article.  I’m contemplating Fedexing it over with no return label.

I’m used to being the runner-up as witnessed throughout my life:

1) Being pipped to the  1984 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical for my portrayal of Pinocchio, the award ended up going to George Hearn in La Cage aux Folles (I know, stinks of bribery) 

2) Losing the 2000 American Presidential Election on a technicality, the technicality being I was under age and not American

3) Narrowly missing out on the number one spot by Candle in the Wind  (it sold 4.865 million copies to my zero)

4) Overlooked for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 after I had finally completed my teething, the panel saw fit to award it to Mother Theresa much to the chagrin of my own mother.

My only dilemma now is whether to withdraw the £10 lottery win or gamble it all over again in the hope of winning a bigger prize, who knows I may not win enough for First Class travel, but I may just about scrape enough for Fast track check in.

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  1. That contest has been the ruination of many a fine, bright talent. Damn the man! (hideous, blue bridesmaid dress is in its way. I’ll look for the photos of you in it).


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