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lotgrinder

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  1. Not our fault everyone's attention spans are reduced to shit memes and thirty second "Fake News" snippets. Thanks for the kind words!
  2. Yesterday I woke up, worked out, and then for some strange reason decided to dress up nice for the casino. I put on my brand new blue Brooks shoes, the nice soft white khaki shorts with pockets down by the knees that I usually fill with drugs at a music festival, and a red Polo t-shirt my that was one of the last things my Papa bought me before he passed away. The outfit, quite simply, should have just been described as"American Glory," so that's what I signed into the poker list as with hopes to piss off any lying crooked hill-bots lurking around the poker room. Eventually, "American Glory," was called over the MGM loud speaker and I could see a few liberal guys whose mother's and wife's still dress them start to groan, but when I got to the table I sat down and started holding court as usual. One of the girls that usually plays there who doesn't think I'm completely disgusting yet says, "Wow dish washer! You look really nice today! Did you just come from a date?" I wanted to make sure she knows that I am never going to play soft in a pot against her like so many other loser men do so I say, "No. I would never get all churched up like this for a woman. I would never do anything pathetic like that. You don't get to where I am in life by trying, at anything. I've done a lot of stupid shit in my life, but I quit dressing up for a woman or asking one out on a date a long time ago. Dating is for complete losers. I'm just a loser." "What's marriage then?" She asked, and I was hoping she would because the two sour liberal pussies I don't like at the poker table had wedding rings on so I replied, "A jail cell." Then a nice old lady named Gloria and an older man named Sam were like, "What do you mean not trying has got you to where you are in life? You try to win at poker!" I replied, "No. No. No. I don't. I never ever try to be the best player at the table. I wait for all the morons to try to be the best poker player and I capitalize off their egos and mistakes. If you try too hard at anything. You fail. Take women for instance. I used to call them and call them all the time in my teens and early twenties. I was like Trump when he offered to buy that married woman furniture and didn't get fucked. I failed. And I failed because I tried too hard. But, then I had my epiphany." "And what was that?" They both asked. "Please tell." And I could tell the entire table, dealer, and even the once hot waitress who know looked sickly because of all the drugs she's junked out on was eating out the palm of my hand. So I continued, "Well, one day, I was washing dishes at Hawaiian Island chinese restaurant in Trenton, and there was this pesky horse fly buzzing all around the back of the place like some douche bag at a nightclub that spins deep house with a bro hawk walking around talking to all the girls trying to get numbers and me, Lee, Peggy, Ai Ci Li, and all the line cooks who were experts in martial arts could not put this motherfucking fly down. We were all swatting at it with fly swatters, news papers, rolled up "Barely Legal" porn magazines from the employee bathroom, open hand slaps, roundhouse kicks, spinning back-fists, hyrukens, and even a dumb fat white American exercising the glory of his gun ownership rights that offered to help emptied the clip trying to kill this god damn horse fly. This went on for hours. I even went to the cooler and pulled out some beers so we could start drinking together, catch a buzz, form a bond as a team, and maybe think outside the box of egg rolls on how we were finally going to get this fokker. But, the harder we tried. The harder we failed. It was like trying to talk sense to a flat earther and I could tell the owner, Lee, who was trying the hardest, was the one who was the most tired and humiliated. So, he made a point to say in front of all the employees to make himself feel better, 'Jussshtin, if you no kill fly by time you go home, no more dishh washher job and poker shatakkking for you. Now everybody go home except you, Jushhtin. Hawaiian Island is closed for the night!' So, there I am all by myself, scrubbing the sad cruel plate of life, thinking to myself while I'm listening to the buzz of this cocksucking insect, 'How am I going gonna get this horse fly'" I just stand there and keep thinking. Keep scrubbing. Keep washing. Keep sanitizing the plates. Keep making sure there's no spots on the silverware. Keep thinking about how to make sure there's no leftover downriver warthog lip stick left on the outer rims of the wine glasses. And slowly but surely I hear the buzzes get closer. And it is no longer one continuous buzz because it seems the horse fly is now buzzing from object to object moving closer and closer. Finally, I could see it out of the back of my eye on a rack of dirty plates. So close that I thought if I turned quickly and slapped it with my wet cloth I could probably get it. I pondered doing so, but then that taunting little cock-sucking motherfucker had the audacity to do one more quick little buzz and he lands on some gray water pipes dripping from steam and condensation just above the dish washer itself. The god damn thing even looked like the lead singer from Primus the more and more I looked at it. So, there I am in a drunken stupor about to strike Les, the horse fly, and it hits me, 'This is the closest I been to killing this thing all night, and I got to where I am right now because I didn't try. I just stood here working, thinking, keeping to myself, doing nothing important, and now what has alluded me for so long today is right in front of me and staring at me.' The bug made no move, it was clearly mine. So I offered up a truce and dropped my dirty wet towel on the floor. Then calmly lifted a clean white sparkling plate to my nemesis or perhaps new found friend. And wouldn't you know that pesky motherfucker climbed right on to that plate and I swear to god he jedi mind tricked some Mr. Miagi like shit into my mind and said, 'Very good. Daniel son. *Now walk me to the the back door slowly, and open it.' And I did. Then I watched Les fly off into the cold pale moonlight and I thought to myself 'God damn. I am never going to try again. At anything. Never. Not at all. And I've lived a damn good life since.'" But what I didn't tell the table was I stole that precious little white plate for myself and I still use it to this day to chop my cocaine out on or to offer up a buffet full of illicit drugs on at local poker home games. Always remember, don't try.
  3. So, last night I am standing solo in line at the dinner buffet here at Jack Casino Cincinnati and this pudgy nerdy looking guy with glasses in a blue polo too tight for his body walks up to me and asks, “Are you going to be paying cash for the buffet?” I say, “Yeah,” and he replies, “Don’t do that. I have a buffet for two coupon I have to use by the end of the month. You can have the other one for free.” I’m like, “Hell yeah. Ship it. That will save me $20. That’s $20 more I can spend on drinks.” Then he tells me his name is Bradley, that he is a “K” card member, and how he gets almost everything comped at the casino. I’m like, “Wow. So where you staying tonight? Where did they put you up?” He goes on to tell me that the only thing they don’t give him is free rooms now because the comps have changed since it became Jack casino and no longer “The Horseshoe.” Anyway, we get onto eating and I start telling the story about how my Grandma Eda always played Double Diamond slot machines and those are the only slot machines I play when I am killing time because it makes me feel good to think about her and remember how happy she’d get when she won, but also how irritated my Papa George would get when she lost even though money was not a worry at all to either of them. I go onto tell him that I was up $160 on a Double Diamond machine just two weeks ago but had to cash out quick because some meth head looking guy came up to me at the machine and kept telling me to push the “credits” button three times then pull the lever and not hit the “spin reels” button to beat the machine. I told Bradley that I decided to cash out instead of maybe win another $100 and have this loser beg me for money. Right away Bradley says, “Well. He was telling you right to pull the lever. If you used the strategy he told you and you won you’d have to give him something.” I’m like, “Well I guess if I did exactly what he said and won big I would throw him $20 or something.” Bradley replied, “$20 off another $100 win or like $20 off a $5,000 win?” I’m like, “$20 off a thousand or more. Or maybe nothing.” Bradley started to look offended and was like, “That’s cheap. If he helped you win he helped you win.” So, I start thinking, “Wow. This Bradley guy is probably one of those degens. How in the hell did he get the biggest shooting highest class comp card? He must be a huge slot machine degen!” And then I ask, “Well. What exactly brings you here tonight?” He says, “The slots.” So I smile say, “Well. I don’t know shit about slot machines. So, I got no advice you can use and there will be no way you’re owing me any money for help!” And then I pull out $15 in red chips and give it to him for the buffet. He says, “Thanks.” Then a little after as I am cleaning up my side of the table and preparing to go back to the poker room I say, “You know. I have never met a big time slot machine player here that carries a “K” card. When you come to play the slots what do you usually bring?” Then he replies, “Well, tonight I just brought $64.00.” I’m like, $64.00 and your ATM card?” He calmly replies, “Nope. Just $64.00. And I live three hours away so I can’t go home and grab any more money either. But, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t get paid until Friday. I just came today with the $64.00 because when you feel it, you feel it, and today I felt it. So, I took the drive.” And that’s the last I heard from Bradley besides exchanging goodbyes after the dinner buffet. God damn I hope he won.
  4. So, I walk into the men's room adjacent to the poker room here at Jack Casino in Cincinnati and there is a tall lanky black man named Charlie working much too fast for my liking mopping the floor. He is not using the traditional looking mop the janitors I used to make fun of in high school used. He is using one of those floor swifter thingies I don't know how to operate instead. From what I gather you can clean floors at a much greater pace with one of those than the old mops and this guy is literally dripping sweat from his "Touch of Gray" beard as he works at a furious speed. I immediately start to feel guilty that I get to play poker for a living so I say, "Charlie. You've got to slow down. You're working much too fast my friend." Charlie breaks a smile, stops working, and says "Oh I don't usually work this fast. You just caught me in the zone." I say, "I think thats bullshit Charlie. I think you need a beer. Want me to go get you a beer?" "No," Charlie says. "There's cameras in here." "No there's not," I reply. "That's why I can't figure out while you're working so hard Charlie." He laughs and asks, "What do you care how hard I work anyway?" I said, "I care enough to know you work harder than most and get paid the same or less. And I just wanted you to know I've done the same." "Shit," he said. "You must have read my god damn mind. You know you got that motherfucking right." "See. Now we're talking Charlie," I said. Can I get you that beer?" He smiled again, but refused for a second time and then I asked, "Well if I gave you this $25 chip could you promise to do one thing for me today Charlie?" He said, "Sure." Then I put the little green token in his hand and said, "Don't take any shit from your boss." But, what I should have told him was "Make sure you buy yourself a beer."
  5. There is nothing that makes me feel like more of an insect than having to sit in morning traffic. What's worse is knowing all the fine, good, and noble people that surround me are crawling slowly to their little sand holes of misery they call a job. Then eight hours later they'll lurch tiredly back to their homes and drug or drink themselves to sleep. After that they'll do it all over again the next day while praying to a god that doesn't exist their children will one day have it better. These are the only people that have ever made me feel guilty about the game I play or crimes I've committed in my past for the fast buck. I guess this is my apology. You people are more than I ever could be....
  6. This is some of you complaining to the moderators about me and begging for me to be banned. This is what you look like.
  7. When I grant this website the privilege of signing myself in and posting in this forum you all run to my threads because deep down you know you are in the presence of posting greatness. Pay homage you shit posting peons.
  8. I'll announce my next scam soon. For now owning zoning at live PLO and power posting the fuck out of this forum sonn.
  9. Lol. Lil Killing Bird whining and crying like a "T.A.R.D."
  10. Trump was a swine in every sense of the word, but he was the swine we needed to make sure Hillary "Rotten" Clinton didn't kill the American Dream by teaching young children you could cheat at the highest level to win an election and get away with it. You must admit it was awful what she did to poor old man Bernie, won't you?
  11. Word is the only cure for "T.A.R.D" is good parenting. We could be fucked America.
  12. Liberal doctors have now created a new medical condition called "T.A.R.D." that allows Democratic voters and their children to be diagnosed with "Trump Acceptance Resistance Disorder" and receive therapy, meds, public safe spaces, and time off work or college in the most extreme cases because of the disorder. Symptoms of "T.A.R.D." may include, but are not limited to either you or someone you know walking aimlessly in the middle of a highway, calling anyone who voted for Trump a racist without actually ever talking to the person, accusing any male who didn't vote for Hillary Clinton of misogyny, constantly bringing up the fact HRC won the popular vote, posting petitions on Facebook to abolish the electoral college, making fun of Donald's wife for taking provocative photos, shaming any woman in Donald's family for being attractive, breaking down and crying sporadically throughout the day for no real reason, de-friending people on Facebook because they have differing political opinions than you, and a growing list of others as many new forms of "T.A.R.D." are breaking out all over America with every new official statement or press conference from the president. Stay tuned for more news on this growing epidemic as I get it from my sources.
  13. Over the past few months, every time I looked up to the sky and saw old glory flying free and thought about a HRC presidency for some reason the clouds would turn all muddy and our American flag would look much like my carpet after a seventy two hour drug binge, littered with stains. If you've ever gone over the edge with uppers or hallucinogenics or had a look at a Koch brothers or Rothschilds soul, you know the exact level of filthiness I'm speaking about. But, since last Wednesday when I've looked to the sky at our forever enduring beautiful symbol of freedom, its almost as old glory has been beckoning, calling out to me as its own waves in the air crash against the wind like the tide rolling in against a three hundred foot cliff I hope and pray every day Hillary "Rotten" Clinton will swan dive off of unto a brutal death. And no, we did not get a Bernie Sanders victory, but we got a Hillary Clinton defeat, and for those who built a home chock full of hate in our heart for that evil ditch pig after she cheated Senator Sanders in the Democratic primaries that is all that mattered. And when she barrels herself head first into the sharp rocks peaking out from the ocean at the bottom of the ridge like the true chicken shit she is, lets us make sure that the sounds of every bone shattering in her body that has long been rotting to the core do not drown out these very important words that I'd like to pass on that were duped into voting for her or worse yet, actually had to act like they loved her. Hillary Rotten Clinton was a blithering liar, a vicious war criminal, a shameless cheat, a thief so dirty she'd steal your gram of cocaine one day then sell it back to you the next at full price .2 short then ask if she could have a bump of it for herself before she left to use whoever else that was stupid enough to call her a friend. To call her a "Nasty Woman" would actually be sugar coating it so much that if it were a coffee and you could take a sip and feel and hear the grains of sugar crunching in your mouth and dispursing down into your gums and ultimately leaving the back of your jaw with a handful of cavities. From every person I know in Washington I've heard that Democratic party insiders and even Barack Obama himself thinks Hillary is a reckless idiot. Word is that her own daughter doesn't even love her and we have all known what Bill thinks about her for some time. Truth be told Chelsea Clinton has been refusing to pose with her parents in any pictures for the press for over a decade and each year her Mother and Father have to give her a hefty raise from The Clinton foundation and wouldn't you know Chelsea makes one million a year now, all just to actually have to speak, be seen with, and take photos with her parents. I could go on but why bother, it looks like lying crooked Hillary has decided to desert you all that voted for her anyway, much like she abandoned those four men in Benghazi, and just like she left you all waiting for a concession speech on election night when Donald Trump became your president. So, as I stand here now in front of this American flag outside of Anderson Elementary school in Trenton, Michigan and stare up to the sky, I would like to take the time to remind you while Hillary Rodham Clinton was doing everything she could to crumple up "The American Dream" and toss it into the rubbish next to the policy ideas and campaign objectives Bernie Sanders gave her that she promised to promote, Donald Trump, Wikileaks, Anonymous, the FBI, the CIA, the Secret Service, our military, local police forces, and lovers of freedom all over the world fought vehemently to save it and that they did. Now excuse me while I set down this cell phone for a moment and picture me standing tall if you will with a misty eye as I salute old glory for the first time in a long time and say, "Thank you Donald. Thank you for saving the American dream."
  14. I would like to apologize on behalf of all my Democratic friends still shaming all of you free thinking Republicans, Jill Stein voters, Gary Johnson voters, and all that decided not to vote in this election or for voting what your conscience told you and refusing to lower yourself to the level it takes to cast a vote for a person so despicable she cheated Bernie Sanders in the primaries and continued to "go low" on America by calling every one of you racist, xenophobic, homophobic, over-privileged, "deplorable," woman hating idiots if you didn't want to vote for her. I could only imagine that being assumed of all that just for the simple fact that you didn't wanted to give lying crooked Hillary your vote must have made you all feel pretty awful. Just remember when it is time to discuss some policy ideas and make some compromises to get things done in this great nation there is Democratic voters like me who never shamed you or attacked you once and understands why you are reveling in the glory of a Trump victory. Seeing all the hate that has been bestowed upon all of you for no good reason, I don't blame you if you walk outside and chant "USA" as you shoot your guns in the air, ask your wife for two blow jobs in one day, say something nasty back to a liberal that sends them packing to a safe space, shake a police officers hand, or continuing to go high as tremors of spite reverberate from streets all over America while HRC supporters continue to go low and riot in the streets. Today is the day I learned just why so many of you feared to wear your "Make America Great Again" Trump hats.
  15. Poker, politics, music, pop culture, etc all in one ongoing story. You'll be back to read it every week. That's for sure. :)
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