So - a maths mistake, or being crap at it, I can handle. I've made a few numerical gaffes of my own in my time. Running to the bloody paper when the lottery board have explained it to you over the phone already is too much for me to bear. For the love of god, the mouth breather behind the till even made the same error. I'm quitting my job and going to work in that shop - I'll just help myself to whatever salary I fancy from the till and they'll never notice.
The fear really sets in though when you realise that it is considered too risky to have a lottery ticket out in public where people might have to read a number that isn't between one and, what, fourty is it they usually go up to? They've withdrawn this ticket from sale, but I'll bet this evolutionary cul-de-sac of a person is still allowed to vote, isn't she? How come her doing that isn't considered to be problematic?
All of which serves to remind me that however much I miss Manchester (which is lots), there's still a good few mongs living there.
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