We were out last night - attending a blues venue - part of the Sheffield Tramlines annual music festival. Consequently, I did not get to check my National Lottery numbers until this morning.
You may recall that when I met God at Bleaklow Stones, I asked him to arrange it so that my lottery numbers would come up on Saturday night. With ecstatic happiness and a massive degree of incredulity, I am delighted to inform you that God did not let me down!
My numbers have come up! All six of them. I have been waiting since November 19th 1994 for this to happen. I checked and re-checked my pink lottery slip and there was no doubt, no doubt at all.
Ten minutes ago, I phoned National Lottery HQ on their hotline number and a representative at the other end of the line soon confirmed that I am the sole jackpot winner for July 21st 2018. How much? A cool £7.7 million or in American dollars - $10.1 million.
Thanks be to God!
Mrs Putin is out, weekend visiting Frances has gone to Tideswell and I am in the house all on my own. I haven't shared my big news with anybody else yet - just you lovely people out their in Blogworld. I know that you will all be filled with joy as news of my good fortune reaches you.
£7,700,000 is a lot of money but stupidly, as I sit here in my dressing gown, I have absolutely no idea how I am going to spend it. Perhaps I will buy a banana-coloured Maserati GranCabrio MC - a snip at only £114,000. And I am already planning to fly first class to Acapulco, Mexico - away from those annoying poor people who are herded onto aeroplanes like cattle. I shall drink champagne at 30,000 feet while chatting with other first class passengers - like Lewis Hamilton, Lady GaGa or Damien Hirst. It will be brilliant. So so brilliant.
But all this money is not going to change me. I shall make a generous donation to The Archer Project for the homeless in Sheffield - at least five hundred pounds and perhaps another five hundred to Oxfam. But I must warn any needy, greedy or destitute bloggers out there that I will not be responding to any "heartfelt" or desperate begging letters. If you want loads of money - like me - you will just have to work for it or buy your own damned lottery tickets.
It is going to be so difficult getting used to the reality that I am now a very wealthy man. Of course, I have never seen myself that way. I am just an ordinary guy who happened to bump into God on a moortop. I wonder what a £7.7 million pile of pound coins might look like? Praise the Lord! Praise Him!