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Tuesday 20 March 2012: Les jeux sont faits

rien ne va plus...

So there you go Luca. I did buy the stamp to post your entry in the 'Spot the Leprechaun' competition organised by that quality free 'news'paper handed to sleepy commuters by early-rising yellow-raincoated smiling Metromen and Metrowomen.

I'm not sure I quite managed to explain to you that a competition is not a massive philanthropic exercise in EUR100 vouchers distribution.
That for each well-publicised winner, there are hundreds of hopeful participants whose hopes are slowly crushed as the days go by and the postman fails yet again to deliver that voucher that you will promptly convert into a Wii.

I did tell you that unless you enter, you have no chance whatsoever of winning anything.
That is the essential first step.
But then there are the odds, that strange concept in an 8 year old mind.
But don't worry, dreaming is not just for kids.
As a handful of well publicised Euromillion winners will tell you.
And nameless hundreds of millions of battered-hopes-owners won't.

You can influence the odds.
With a touch of divine intervention.
Or the frailty of a kid's writing on the envelope.

But you can't control them.

Except for Paddy Power, that home-wrecking, life-destroying, soulless bastard.

As for Phil Collins, he never grew back his hair, against all odds

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