IN ALL THE YEARS YOU'VE BEEN PLAYING THE LOTTERY, HAVE YOU EVER RECEIVED A THANK-YOU NOTE FROM A WINNER? : CHASING LOTTO DREAMS - BANKING ON BUST.

I was walking by the dairy case in my supermarket the other day when it finally dawned on me.

I'm never going to be able to afford all this cheese.

I'm never going to be sitting on the veranda outside my mansion giggling and sipping champagne with my wife because we're filthy rich, and never have to work a day in our lives again, unless we want to.

I'm never going to own a yacht, have polo ponies, drive a Maserati, or take a six-month leisurely cruise around the world while the rest of the rubes are punching the time clock.

In short, I'm never gonna win the lousy lottery.

I can hear some of you sharpies out there going, ``Duh, really,'' but you're not fooling me.

Deep down, all of us degenerates who play this sucker's game under the ruse we're just helping out the schools think we've got a shot. Somebody's got to win the thing, right?

But it ain't gonna be you, and it ain't gonna be me. No way. No how.

All that expensive cheese that lottery winners are so happy finally to be able to afford is going to turn green before you and me get shown the money.

I'm ticked off today because I thought this might be my weekend. I truly did. St. Patrick's Day, the luck of the Irish, and all that.

It just felt right. I'm Irish, and my mother still lights candles for me at church. Give or take a couple of juvenile felonies, I've been a good son and father.

But I ain't getting any younger. Now that I'm in the September of my years, the timing seems right to make my move from middle class to filthy rich.

I'm ready to trade in my Ford for a Cadillac, and become totally obnoxious.

All I needed was the luck of the Irish, and those damn pingpong balls to play ball, and it'd be Bermuda, Tahiti, Bora Bora - here I come, baby.

Yeah, well, it's Monday morning, and I'm still pounding the keys in Woodland Hills.

This whole lottery scam is really starting to wear thin. Let me ask you this.

In all the years you've been playing the lottery, have you ever received a thank-you note from a winner?

Have you ever been invited over to their new mansion for dinner? Ever even get a stinking postcard from some port they're sailing through on their way around the world?

Get real. Not one rotten postcard or T-shirt from the ingrates, and we financed the trip.

I should have known this whole thing was a setup back in '85 when the state started selling lottery tickets to us like we were a bunch of kids in a candy store.

Do it for the schools, they said. Yeah, right.

What have we collected in lottery revenue over the past dozen years after paying off the winners? A billion or so?

Do our schools look any better to you? Forget about it.

My old boss at the paper in '85 sent me out to buy some tickets on opening day of the inaugural lottery season, and write a column on the public's latest feeding frenzy.

The closest lottery outlet to the paper, then in Van Nuys, was one of those driving safety schools for losers who get caught speeding or hanging a U in the middle of an intersection.

Not exactly a den of confidence for a guy looking to become a millionaire. I bought $50 worth of scratch-offs, anyway.

I won $2. Lost $48.

Now, you would think that even a guy like me, who couldn't pass dumbbell algebra in high school, would see the light and figure out the lottery was the granddaddy of all sucker bets.

Not only didn't I see the light, I didn't even catch a flicker. Losing fifty bucks just whet my appetite to lose more.

Twelve years later, I'm feeding a $20 a month lottery habit. Betty Ford is starting to send me brochures.

Give or take a hundred, I figure I'm into the lottery for about four grand, or, as my wife likes to put it - 10 days in Hawaii, stupid.

I wound up joining one of those investment clubs at work about five years ago. Instead of investing in stocks and ridingT the market up, we invested in lottery tickets and rode the schools down.

I've thought about quitting, but if my investment club ever won without me, I'd probably be one of those guys sitting up on a roof somewhere with the crowd yelling, ``Jump!''

So, even though the lottery's a bigger sucker bet than a politician's promise, I'll continue shelling out the twenty bucks a month - all the while knowing I'll never be able to afford all that cheese.

But, I promise you this. If I'm wrong, and I do win five or ten million, you're all getting a postcard.

I never forget my friends.