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from Royal Flusher World


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    Sunday, September 15, 2019

    Apollo Yo-Leven Post-Trip Reckoning and Accounting Spin

    Let's cut to the chase. This trip was not a winning trip. That is, if you measure my bankroll before the trip and after the trip. However... this trip was a huge success in so many ways.

    First of all, I was the first man to land on the Moonar surface, and catch a Lyft there as well.

    Secondly, I had an absolute blast.

    Thirdly, I managed to keep the live posting going during the trip without falling behind.

    Finally, the total cost of the trip came with a huge discount, based on comps, freeplay, and goodies.

    The most amazing thing of this trip was the continued, improbable, and ridiculous good luck I had with video keno. I felt like I was doing something illegal, winning that often.

    Just remember, the house edge on video keno starts at 95% goes down, way down, from there. Video keno is a terrible game, and you shouldn't play it.

    I left one thing hanging in one of the posts about Luxor - I spotted a guy with a 6" hunting knife in a cheap, plastic sheath strapped to his belt, hanging in plain view. I stopped by the security desk and let them know. Because, you should always use a leather sheath.

    Now, let's look at hard expenses first.

    The biggest expense item was gambling, from which I sustained a $900 loss. I have ways of making this look much, much better. Keep reading.

    Apollo Yo-Leven Expense Item Cost
    Airfare $134
    Rouge Plus Upgrade $334
    Lyft (5 rides) $66
    MostSim $34
    Wynn Slots $26
    Bar tips $5
    Buffalo Trace $15
    Tips $14
    Amazon Prime $47
    Tips $8
    Car Rental $151
    BTS Korean $20
    KJ Kitchen lunch $10
    Tips $10
    Tacos El Gordo $15
    Tips $4
    White Castle $9
    Tips $6
    Tips $14
    Tips $15
    Starbucks airport $10
    VIA $90
    Total $1,037

    And now, let's look at the comp side.

    Apollo Yo-Leven Comp Value
    Luxor Suite 4 nights $689
    Luxor FP $75
    Luxor Food ($100) $100
    Magnolias CTUG $14
    Cal Noodle House points $15
    FQ Freeplay $60
    Wynn 3 nights (Wynn Slots) $592
    MSS Freeplay $20
    MSS Buffet $16.00
    Cal 3 nights $180.00
    Cal MSC Korean Rib $17.00
    Magnolias CTUG $14.00
    Fremont Buffet $16.00
    Tournament dinner $15.00
    Luxor Suite 2 nights $344
    Luxor FP $75
    Luxor Food ($100) $100
    Cal Hawaiian Hamburg Steak $14
    Breakfast Buffet $18
    Total $2,374

    So, the total out of pocket cost for this trip was $1,937.

    Total comps received was $2,374.

    Let's unpack this a bit and look at some fun facts.

    • For a 12 night trip, my total cost for accomodations was $27. This is why I can't afford to vacation anywhere but Las Vegas.
    • For a 12 night trip, I paid for four meals. Four. One, two, three four. The rest were comped.
    • Gambling cost $75 per day. We have a rough historical average of $150 to $175 each day. This is why I can't afford new shoes.
    • Total value of the trip was $4,311 (costs plus comps plus gambling loss). Why did I include gambling loss? Because that's my entertainment and it lasts all day and night every day and night. More or less. Based on all that, I got this trip at a 45% discount - even more if you were to look at the full rack rate that first time Vegaser Gawking Johnny Fannypack and his wife Idawana Nofun would have had to pay for the 6 nights in a suite, and the 3 nights at Wynn.

    Thanks to all of you for reading along and thank you to the generous folks who donate to keep the blog rolling. It takes about three hours a day to keep up with a live trip report, and it's nice to see that people value it that much so as to contribute to the upkeep of the HTML and JavaScope and MySpace Server RAM crap that Jimmy Poon keeps a-hummin'.

    So what's next for Royal Flusher and the Quad Queen?

    I can't tell you. But it's going to be fun.

    Stay savvy, and remember, where there are credits, there are hope.




    Tuesday, September 3, 2019

    VIA Butler Class Service

    As mentioned, I'd found an Air FU Canada agent, and dealt with the fact that I wouldn't be on the last flight to Flusherville, all business, just the facts - just after I asked if she knew my cousin from Regina.

    I made my way to Union Station and partook of the Via business class lounge, which was surprisingly empty for an early evening train leaving Toronto.

    After stashing as many apples and cans of Clamato as would fit in my carry-on backpack, I made my way down to the departures level and joined the long line of trainees waiting to board.

    (See what I did there?)

    One of the staff made their way along the snaking line of stinking rail-bound humanity, checking tickets, and making sure shoes were tied and the like.

    When she scanned my ticket, one eyebrow lifted. This was because she had tilted her head sideways, but no matter.

    "Command Flusher! There you are - come with me please," and with that, she turned on her heel and walked away. The way she accomplished this was to lift her right leg high in the air, and lift the toes on her left foot, leaving the heel as a fulcrum. A series of flapping movements with her rather heavy-set arms, accompanied by grunts and wheezes, caused enough inertia for her to spin bit by bit on her heel.

    It was... dare I say - majestic.

    She took me past all the other people in line to the foot of some stairs that lead up to the tracks. I was handed off from staff member to staff member, one at the top of the stairs, and another one at each of the seven rail cars, before I got to the very first car. This one was the one I was to board.

    I did so, stashed my suitcase, and searched for my seat, carefully comparing my ticket information to the somewhat complex seat numbering system used aboard such rolling stock.


    "Am I 13A, B, or C..." I muttered to myself. "A, I think - and there it is."

    And I settled in, happy to be on the final leg of my long, long journey.

    It was nice and quiet in the business class car, I'd hardly seen anyone else board. And before too long, with a little jerk and squeak, the train began to move.

    And that's when I realized the truth. I'd been duped. I was a guinea pig, a microbe in a test tube, a crash test dummy... for Via's experimental Butler Class.

    The butler - let's call him Guy - came by and greeted me. He asked if I was comfortable handling the emergency exit duties.

    I asked Guy for a bourbon rocks.

    Because I was the only eligible passenger, Guy insisted on showing me all the tricks of the trainwreck escape trade - the little hammer with which to break the window, the shoving motion one should use when pushing the shattered glass outward, or for corralling disobedient five year olds running up and down the aisle, should that come to pass. Not that it would. This was Butler Class, after all.

    Then we moved on to "how to operate a door".

    Splashdown!

    In a highly technical symphony of mathematics and basic vinegar and baking soda rocketry, I pushed every button on the British Columbia control panel to initiate the descent through the Earth's atmosphere, during which the heat shield would reach 5,000 degrees, in what is known as the Weber Maneuver.

    For many minutes, my radio was silent, due to the incredible electro-magnetic forces created by the friction with the stratosphere. (The real one, not the pointy one in Vegas known as the Strat.)

    "Flushiepants, Flusherville..."

    (static)

    "Flushiepants, Flusherville... come in."

    (more static)

    "Flushiepants, Flusherville... can you hear me Flushiepants..."

    (crackling and brow furrowing)

    And finally...

    "Flusherville, Commander Flusher here, I hear you 5-5 and I've got three good chutes filling the blue sky above me, the most beautiful sight I've seen since I hit six out of six on keno," I replied.


    But let's rewind the T-clock thingy a bit, and I'll recap my remarkable journey home from Pearson International Space Station.

    As mentioned, I'd found an Air FU Canada agent, and dealt with the fact that I wouldn't be on the last flight to Flusherville, all business, just the facts - just after I asked if she knew my cousin from Regina.

    I made my way to Union Station and partook of the Via business class lounge, which was surprisingly empty for an early evening train leaving Toronto.

    After stashing as many apples and cans of Clamato as would fit in my carry-on backpack, I made my way down to the departures level and joined the long line of trainees waiting to board.

    (See what I did there?)

    One of the staff made their way along the snaking line of stinking rail-bound humanity, checking tickets, and making sure shoes were tied and the like.

    When she scanned my ticket, one of her expressive eyebrows lifted. This was because she had tilted her head sideways, but no matter.

    "Command Flusher! There you are - come with me please," and with that, she turned on her heel and walked away. The way she accomplished this was to lift her right leg high in the air, and lift the toes on her left foot, leaving the heel as a fulcrum. A series of flapping movements with her rather heavy-set arms, accompanied by grunts and wheezes, caused enough inertia for her to spin bit by bit on her heel.

    It was... dare I say - majestic.

    She took me past all the other people in line to the foot of some stairs that lead up to the tracks. I was handed off from staff member to staff member, one at the top of the stairs, and another one at each of the seven rail cars, before I got to the very first car. This one was the one I was to board.

    I did so, stashed my suitcase, and searched for my seat, carefully comparing my ticket information to the somewhat complex seat numbering system used aboard such rolling stock.

    "Am I 13A, B, or C..." I muttered to myself. "A, I think - and there it is."

    And I settled in, happy to be on the final leg of my long, long journey.


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