One Billion Dollars, Bologna Pools, and the Evolution of the Fraternity Lottery Pool
Well...
We've done it.
Not won the Powerball.
We've evolved into a full-fledged financial institution.
The Powerball jackpot has officially reached $1 BILLION, with a one-time cash option of approximately $433.1 million before taxes.
Naturally, I already built another spreadsheet.
At this point, I should probably put "Lottery Pool CFO" on my LinkedIn profile.
It Started Innocently...
If memory serves, this whole adventure started about a month ago.
I suggested we throw a few bucks together.
Fast forward several drawings later, and we've played Powerball, Mega Millions, more Powerball, and then some more because apparently none of us learned anything.
I'd estimate our fraternity has now spent around $1,200–$1,500 chasing the dream.
That's enough money to buy a decent used car.
Instead, we own a growing collection of paper with numbers on them.
We've Become Spreadsheet People
This isn't just "buy some tickets."
No.
We've gone full corporate.
I've created spreadsheets showing:
Jackpot odds.
Prize probabilities.
Estimated after-tax winnings.
Per-person payouts.
Cash option calculations.
Different scenarios based on how many brothers are playing.
I don't think anyone has ever over-engineered losing the lottery quite like we have.
The Investment Committee Speaks
One thing I actually love is how the group operates.
We've had a few smaller wins.
Instead of everyone demanding their $4.37 immediately, the majority decided to let some of the winnings ride and buy more tickets.
Ladies and gentlemen...
We've accidentally invented a hedge fund.
A terrible hedge fund.
But a hedge fund nonetheless.
The $1 Billion Spreadsheet
Yes...
There's already a spreadsheet.
Of course there is.
It breaks down exactly what every fraternity brother would receive if we hit the jackpot based on the current pool.
The numbers are ridiculous.
The conversations are even better.
Responsible Financial Planning
People always ask what they'd do if they suddenly became rich.
Our discussions have not exactly been...
...traditional.
Ideas include:
Building an in-ground swimming pool...
...and filling it entirely with bologna.
Hiring someone whose only job is to tell us when Powerball reaches another billion.
Buying matching golf carts just to drive to the mailbox.
Renting a movie theater every Friday because deciding what to stream is exhausting.
Purchasing a private island where absolutely no one is allowed to ask, "Can I borrow a little money?"
Starting a charitable foundation dedicated to replacing every broken fraternity couch in America.
Buying Harris Teeter stock just to thank the cashier who's watched me buy hundreds of dollars in lottery tickets without asking too many questions.
Will We Win?
Statistically?
Probably not.
But for the price of a few tickets, we've bought weeks of laughs, spreadsheets nobody asked for, Discord debates, ridiculous financial planning sessions, and enough jokes to last until the next drawing.
That's not a bad return on investment.
Although...
A billion dollars would still be nice.
The Powerball Department Is Now Open: 120 Tickets, 12 Brothers, and the Niel Tax™
I put together a lot more than just buying 120 Powerball tickets this week.
Somewhere between spreadsheets, probability calculations, payout estimates, tax assumptions, and trying to explain to a group of fraternity brothers why $4 divided by 12 doesn't make anyone rich, I may have accidentally become the Chief Financial Officer of the Tau Epsilon Phi Lottery Department.
The easy part is collecting everyone's $20.
The hard part is answering the important questions.
“What are our odds?”
With 120 unique tickets:
Jackpot: about 1 in 2,435,012
Percentage chance: 0.0000411%
Any prize: approximately 99.27%
Chance of winning nothing: approximately 0.73%
Then came the inevitable follow-up.
“What happens if we actually win?”
Now we're talking.
Using the current estimated $856 million advertised jackpot and an estimated $372 million cash option, with 12 brothers, everyone would receive approximately:
Prize Estimated Take-Home Per Brother
Jackpot $17.67 million
$1,000,000 $47,500
$50,000 $2,375
$100 $4.75
Then I looked at the remaining prize tiers.
A $7 prize split twelve ways is...
58 cents.
A $4 prize?
33 cents.
Unfortunately, Zelle has one tiny flaw in its business model:
It won't let me send you 33 cents.
Therefore, after careful consultation with absolutely nobody, I have created what will forever be known as...
The Niel Tax™
Any prize that works out to less than $1 per participant will be retained by the Lottery Commissioner — me — as a convenience fee for:
Collecting everyone's money
Buying the tickets
Tracking the numbers
Calculating the odds
Estimating federal and South Carolina taxes
Explaining for the fifteenth time that “1 in 2.4 million” is actually pretty good compared to one ticket
And, perhaps most importantly, avoiding the embarrassment of sending eleven separate Zelle payments for 33 cents
Think of it as an administrative processing fee.
Or a beverage fund.
Or reimbursement for the gas it takes to drive to Harris Teeter while getting strange looks from the cashier after buying what appears to be enough lottery tickets to finance a small nation.
If we win the jackpot, I promise to waive the Niel Tax.
If we win $4...
Well...
Congratulations.
I just earned another Coke Zero.
Good luck, Lotto Dudes.
Somebody has to win.
$856 Million, Lucky 8s, and My Fraternity Lottery Dictatorship
The Powerball jackpot has climbed to $856 million, with the next drawing on Saturday, August 8, 2026 (8/8/26).
Now, I think the number 8 is considered lucky in Mandarin. I'm not entirely sure. I speak approximately three words of Mandarin, and two of them are probably pronounced wrong.
Still... 8/8? I'll take all the luck I can get.
I've also made an executive decision for the fraternity lottery pool. We've doubled the buy-in from $10 to $20 per person, which means twice the tickets and slightly better odds of one of us becoming completely unemployable.
To keep everyone informed, I've been posting the ever-changing odds in our Discord channel based on how many brothers are playing. It's educational. It's transparent. It's probably the most math some of us have done since college.
There has been one other policy change.
After weeks of organizing the pool, collecting money, driving to Harris Teeter, buying tickets, photographing them, and sending updates, one particularly ungrateful fraternity brother has been permanently promoted to... former participant.
Congratulations!
Your lottery odds with my pool are now exactly 0.000000%.
It's amazing how quickly the Fraternity Lottery Commissioner can become the Fraternity Lottery Dictator.
Long live the Commissioner.
Good luck to everyone else. If we win $856 million, drinks are on me.
Well... probably not. That's how people stay rich.
Join the fun on NielFlamm.com/blog.
$786 Million and a Lesson in Fraternity Economics
If you've been following along, you know I've somehow become the unofficial Commissioner of the Fraternity Lottery Pool.
With the Powerball jackpot sitting at $786 million, it seemed like the responsible thing to do. (That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.)
Over the past few weeks, I've been collecting money, organizing who is in and who is out, driving to the local Harris Teeter, standing in line, buying stacks of South Carolina Lottery tickets, photographing them, keeping track of everything, and sending the group updates.
At one point, I walked up to the counter and bought $200 worth of lottery tickets.
The cashier gave me that look.
You know the one.
The look that says, "Sir... are we okay?"
Yes, we're okay.
No, gambling isn't one of my problems.
If anything, my problem is volunteering for too many projects.
The funny part is that after all the work that goes into organizing this little adventure, a few of the fraternity brothers have started sounding a bit... ungrateful.
Who knew that trying to make everyone a millionaire could become a thankless job?
Maybe I should charge a convenience fee.
Or a ticket-handling fee.
Or an emotional support fee.
We'll see where this goes. The Lottery Commissioner may be considering early retirement before anyone actually wins enough to retire.
Stay tuned.
There may be more to come.
Until then, if our numbers hit tonight, I promise not to hold a grudge.
Probably.
Some People Just Don’t Give a F’!!! Twice in One Day—What Is Going On?
Is it a full moon? Did someone taint the water? Is the zombie apocalypse about to begin?
I went to see Spider— the video vlog review is coming later—and caught the first sign of civilization’s collapse in the parking lot.
I’m parked on the left, neatly between the lines. On the right is a Cadillac CT4 doing…well, you can see for yourself.
Later, I went to my local Harris Teeter to buy 85 Powerball tickets for the fraternity Powerball pool—more on that adventure later—and witnessed something even more baffling.
I drove by twice because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
An older gentleman had parked nowhere near the lines and left the hatch wide open. Look closely: nobody is inside the car. Nobody is standing nearby. Nothing. Eventually, I watched him make his way back to the vehicle on one of those electric shopping carts.
At that point, I knew the universe was trying to tell me something.
I’m buying MREs and driving to the middle of nowhere—right after I vlog about Superman, write about Nextdoor, and check the fraternity pool and my solo Powerball tickets.
Priorities, people. Priorities.