Luck Be A Lady

Me and Lady Luck, we’ve never been constant. Never arm in arm for long. I’ve never been sure of whose fault it is but, for all it’s nice when we’re together, one of us (and I’m casting no aspersions here) can’t keep it up.

Things go sour very quickly and then we part. We go our separate ways.

Take when I was a kid. I didn’t win a Penny Chew for years and then one summer week at Weymouth Carnival I won three prizes on the raffle in a single day. Three.

And then nothing. Absolutely nothing ever again.

Until recently.

Because over the last month Lady Luck plainly took a shine to my blogging exploits and hooked up with me once more. We were an item once again. I couldn’t move but she was there shaking her tush at me and winking, "Fancy a punt?" Not ‘alf!

First, thanks to a mini competition at Don’t Panic. RTFM I won this:

I think of it as the George Formby grill. And not just because anything I cook on it will probably end up looking like a chamois leather.

And then last week Lady Luck hit me with her twin bazookas and thanks to Bringing Up Charlie I won the following two prizes:

Unbelievable.

Chocolate and Lego. For me, that’s like the Ark of the Covenant and The Holy Grail. Luck, I love you and you can shake those tassles in my face as hard and as fast as you like.

I was on a roll. I could feel it. Dead cert. No shit.

So on Saturday I bought one of these:

Going for the big one, oh yes.

And then Monday morning I headed into work as sodding usual.

Luck, you’re a fickle bitch.