A banker wakes up one morning, and notices it’s the 5th day of the 5th month. And it occurs to him that he lives on the 5th floor of a building at 555 Fifth Avenue.
He checks his e-mail, and has five messages waiting for him. He sees the headline on the newspaper: 5 MEN RESCUED AT SEA. He turns on the Weather Channel, and the announcer advises “Sunny, fair, high of 55 degrees.”
Now the banker is getting strangely elated. He hails a taxi and sees the license number: 555.
When he gets to work, his secretary has five messages waiting for him. That’s the final signal! He calls up his bookmaker and asks “What’s the name of the 5th horse in the 5th race at Pimlico?” The answer is Five Aces. That does it. He tells the bookie “Put $5,000 on Five Aces to win.”
Five hours later, the bookie calls back and tells the banker, “Your horse came in 5th. You lose.”
The banker slams the phone down and shouts, “That son of a bitch Obama!”