Powerball, with you in my pocket I have swagger, like tomorrow I could own this street and name it after my hamster. And I could, because if your six numbers match those six magic balls on the draw every Wednesday and Saturday, I can afford bad taste (and my own Wienermobile). It’s 1 in 175 million that my $2 will have, like, 600 million babies—odds that make a snowball’s chance in hell sound good. Yet you inexplicably feel like a safer bet than roulette. So, I’m headed to Primm April 8, when you’ll land at the Valley Lotto Store just across the Cali border. Merry Christmas, fellow suckers.