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Sunday, September 17, 2017

Go The Frack to Sleep!

When last we saw our hero, he was headed to the Golden Gate.

So were Flushiepants and Funkhouser.

Where were we?

Let's see... Funk wanted to see the new entrance. I'd already had a look, and I bit my tongue. I wanted to tell him "This is a total fucking waste of space in a 300 square foot casino and won't last 6 months until Darrin Stevens figures out that he's used 15% of his floor for a BUNCH OF FUCKING TVs."

I know, I know, I'd called out for more 'whimsy' in Vegas. I should have said 'interesting and engaging whimsy that isn't a BUNCH OF FUCKING TVs."

Damn it's fun writing this blog! :)

Ooh, look! TVs!
As you can see, the new entry way is the hot spot on the FSE, creaming the revenue 60 cents at at time.

Because of all this, Funkhouser decided to beat the living crap out of Willy Wanker.

I just stood and watched in awe.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the horseshoe has landed. (Weird. The camera caught some of the screens in the refresh phase, says Jimmy Poon who explained why my photography sucks.)

Willy Wonka Video Slot Win

Willy Wonka Video Slot Win

I didn't suck up this shot though.
That is a Wankload of pennies.

We played some weird fucking thing about Lightning Blaster or something.

It's kind of cool not being much of a video slot guy, because when I do play one, it's all new, exciting, loud, and completely fucking baffling.

I was playing some machine that you had to find the pearl on or something. There were mermaids that would show up and wiggle their tails at me. They were wild.

Well, no shit, ever seen a mermaid at a sailor bar? That's some wild flapping shit going on right there.

So Funk explained that I had to get the pearl bonus. I told him that it was easy, you just go down to the slot and up a bit, and jiggle around a bit.

I did get one slippery pearl bonus round and won $4.00. Meanwhile, Funk was pulling down multi-hundred dollar bonuses. I was too fish-slapped to take pictures.

He cashed out and we headed to the Cal, along Main, dodging the sad passed out masses. They were very down on their luck, and I'm not sure they knew how to get the pearl bonus.

At the Cal, Funk signed up for a card which netted him $3.92 in free play or something. Okay $5.00.

We went for blackjack and he came out swinging, dropping $20 or $30 on the spot, and a couple of reds on the Match a Pair of Suckers bonus. Stupidly I'd told him that I saw a guy with a $5 chip on it get 25-1 for having a pair of cards the same suit. It sounds like easy money until you realize that what this means is two identical cards in a two deck game. Somebody calculate the odds of hitting it and get back to me.

I played more conservatively and took a slightly smaller bath than he did. For once Funk, was Fucked. He bailed before his $300 buy-in was all gone and went to play some stupid useless video poker, while I set about battling back using the $30 of my $100 I still had.

I'd got about even when Funk returned with a $600 ticket from hitting four Jacks on some short pay VP variant. Fucking guy! I was in awe.

As in, awe wish ahd hit that.

He showed me a picture of the hit.

"Nice going, Big Money Haircut."

I hung in there long enough to claw back my buy-in plus another $55. I locked the $150 in the 'don't you fucking dare' vault stack of chips. And played the $5. I won and parlayed to $10. Got a blackjack!

Sounds great but it petered out and I did protect my vault and colored up with plus $50 for the session. Even better, I'd scratched back almost all my losses from earlier in the day. I was only down $100.

Funk grabbed a cab for the Dinq, where he was staying in one of their lovely Retread Suites. He says it's not too bad for nine 22-year-old 'Team Axe Body Spray' guys to crash in.

Having had a great evening and won back most of my day, it was a perfect time to head up to bed, my noggin' happily swirling from much strong drink and a great time.

That's why I headed to the video poker machines by the cage.


I played $20 each on four machines. I lost $80 in about six minutes.

Smartly, I "invested" $100 in dollar Boner Deluxe.

I got nothing. I was panicked. I was on the verge of blowing the whole day, and knew I should just learn a lesson.

For some reason, I kept imagining Samuel L. Jackson doing the audio book and shouting in my ear "GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!"

Taking this in, I made a bee-line for my favorite triple play deuces quarter machine. And put in $100.

I played and it dropped. Man, I was headed for a debacle. I'd clawed back my day, and was throwing it away. I kept playing, obviously.

Miraculously, I hit a few things and went up to about $150. No dealt deuces like I wanted, but a little bit back. Great time to cash out.

I looked at my watch and it was 2:00am. It dropped. It dropped more. It got to $101.25.

Yeah, I cashed.

Time to head up.

And 19 steps away, I spotted some nice little dollar Treasure Chest uprights.

I knew they didn't take tickets.

But I had an emergency $100 bill with me, like all savvy/degenerate gamblers do, for just such an occasion.

I flopped down at approximately a 45 degree angle, and started pushing the rope, feeding the hungry maw of the machine. (Any time you want to appear 'writerly', use the words 'maw', 'amicable', or 'pescatarian'. Happy fish eating!)

Fucker wouldn't take it. Grunt over to the middle machine.

Fucker wouldn't take it. Fall over to the last machine.

Fucker wouldn't take it.

Was it a sign?

Was it a fucking bullhorn in my ear with Samuel L. Jackson at the controls shouting "GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP, LOSER!!!!"????????

I did.

Pocket Dump.


    1. I'm uncertain as to what is in that little plastic bag on the left of your pocket dump but it looks like a tiny pink penis to me.

      1. I'm gonna look pretty funny with one of those in each ear then.



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