Donald MacInnes: A €60m EuroMillions win? It could be me... well, in my dreams

I had a real feeling last week as I was buying a ticket for the EuroMillions draw. "This is it," I thought, as I walked to the car. "I'm actually going to win this thing." It was the strangest feeling - tangible; like a pre-sneeze tickle in the nose.

I was absolutely certain I was going to be worth about €60m come bedtime. Of course, given that I am still having to write this for you, instead of lying giggling, face-down on a mountain of thousand dollar bills in a Manhattan penthouse, while The Hunger Games' Jennifer Lawrence fires sucker-tipped arrows at my backside, means that my unassailable, I-can't-be-wrong, dreams-come-true feeling was all kinds of inaccurate. But for those few hours before the draw shattered my expectations, I did what we all do and concocted a list of the things I would buy with that kind of money.

And aside from hiring Hollywood actresses to carry out harmless facsimiles of their star-making action roles, first of all I would have to buy an enormous house. Something along the lines of Al Pacino's place in Scarface. In fact, I may as well go the whole hog and buy the exact house that Al Pacino had in Scarface. Said sprawling white gaff is actually situated in the millionaire's playground of Star Island in Miami's Biscayne Bay. Such Miami Beach royalty as Gloria Estefan and P Diddy also live here.

On second thoughts, Miami might be too muggy. And they have mosquitos that don't just bite you, but bite you, then climb into your carry-on luggage and wait till you get back to Great Britain and then bite you again. In light of this, perhaps I should locate my dream house on the west coast. Maybe Malibu. Get a bit of a breeze off the sea.

Then, of course, comes the choice of dream car. And, given that I will be living close to the fabled Pacific Coast Highway, I am going to be needing a car that complements its surroundings. Something like a 1968 Ford Mustang. Something that sounds throaty and aggressive.

And, being as I would be living by the sea, I would be honour-bound to do my best to empty it of as many of its residents as is possible. That means laying my hands on a boat. And, as any salty dog will tell you, as important as your choice of keel girth, poop deck mizzen and overall fish-odour, is your selection of a suitable name for your vessel.

And while it is tempting to go down the smug route (I once saw a lovely white craft anchored in Key Largo. It was called "Jealous Much?"), you have to remember that not everyone has been lucky enough to win big on the EuroMillions. So maybe something understated. Like "Mine's A Large One" referring, of course, to the size of the fish in my hold. I can't imagine anyone seeing a boat named that and managing to draw any overly smug meaning from it, can you?

Twitter.com/DonaldAMacInnes