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LOTTERY LOUT

All the lottery winners I've known have been wizened oldies who, having spent years winning nothing, when Lady Luck finally deigned to shoot them a glance, were so jaded by years of disappointment they simply shared it out among grasping family and settled for a quiet life.

But I'd always wondered what it would be like if Murphy's Law bucked the system and allowed someone to win who'd actually make whoopee with the windfall. Someone a little unruly ....

Well, damn me if the teenaged Michael Carroll isn't exactly what I was thinking of.

A little rough round the edges - indeed, known by his splendid tabloid nickname, the Lotto Lout - Mr Carroll won £9.7 million ($17.1 million) in the national lottery three years ago and showed up to collect his prize while wearing a police-issued electronic ankle bracelet.

That's the way to do it - win "Up Yours" money and go to town in the most offensively vulgar fashion. How he must drive his neighbors crazy - and of course, if you've got the dosh, you can get away with it.

And doesn't he look a slob? Hefty bugger, too. I doubt many of the impoverished jealous voice their disapproval too loudly to his surly face.

Tyres and empties in the front drive ... quite right, too. What would I go in for, apart from hot 'n' cold bimbos strewn across the sward and costly cars askew where I'd sent the gravel flying after debauched nights on the town?

Big house, of course, bags of land, retainers, dogs lolling in every hearth.

I hope I'd still have a few old mates in evidence but we'd probably fall out within the first few drinking sessions. I'm told the killer is paying for the rounds: if you buy them all, you're a stuck up boaster. If you leave others to buy their round, you're a mean bastard who won't share your good fortune.

This is where the automatic beer mat would pay for itself.

I used to fantasize over what I'd do - back in the days when aunts would slip me a Premium Bond for Christmas - and I still do when I remember to go via Ciara on the Safeway counter.

I don't think I'll read these tips for winners too  closely just yet, but I'll be ready.

Better still, have one of the vacuous lovelies read the more sensible pointers aloud, luscious lips agonizing over each syllable as I frolic in my soapy sauna: