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Sunday, June 24, 2012

At Sixes and Sevens

Things started simply today. Round 2 of the Cal VP tournament was up so we warmed up in the casino. I bought a latte at Lappert's ice cream on points and drank it while we amused ourselves with some Bonus Poker.

We each hit a quad and I remember thinking, ah yes, this is going to be a good day. And then I thought, hmm, maybe this will be a brutal fucking day and I will have been lulled into a false sense of security by the apparent ease with which we nailed these quads.

My brain 'works' like that - its the mark of a savvy gamblester.

The tournament was fun, even though we both did crap. You get to take nothing but longshots the likes of which you would never take in live, funded play (like dumping a straight for four-to-a-straight flush).

In my view, a video poker tournament is the second most fun you can have in 20 minutes without spending any money.

Our scores sucked and we knew we would likely not be in the money, unless all the other contestants crashed and burned.

As we filed out past the next round of players, I used my refined psycho-social gambling techniques to plant a 'seed of doubt' as it were in their minds.

"I got two Royals..." I remarked loud enough for everyone to hear.

My mark, a comely-looking Island Senior Girlfriend of perhaps 79 years, bought in.

"Two Royals?!!!... You got two?"

"Actually, now that I think about it, it was actually three Royals I got. Well... good luck. If you decide to bother playing."

You know what they say, you can't outsmart a dishonest I.S.G. and an elephant never forgets.

Isn't that what they say? Somewhere?

It was time for me to fuel up and sample an Island Delicacy (no, not an I.S.G.).

Yes, I headed over to Aloha Specialties for the breakfast of champion gamblers - Loco Moco.

I have heard that the best Loco Moco is at the Fremont, but really, I haven't been up before 7:00am in quite a few days now - it just ain't gonna happen. (They close the snack bar there at about 6:40am).

I really wanted to order Loco Moco un Poco with Cocoa but it was only 7:30am Island Time.

Put my order in, and before long, they delivered a steaming breakfast of rice topped with a freshly ground and fried hamburger patty, and 2 eggs (which weren't like as tough as pemmican, thank God).

Either Loco Moco, or one of those things that glommed onto Spock's back, making him Loco Spocko.
Food Porn movie: Deep Inside Loco Moco #6
It was quite tasty, the Loco Moco, and I ate it all up. Added a bit of Tabasco too. Unfortunately, the patty was pretty well laced with garlic and onions and it made its presence known for around 5.294 hours after completing consumption. BRAAAPPP.

I found Mrs. Flusher and we hit up some 50 cent BP. She was in the process of getting her ass kicked. I squeaked out a nice quad for $62.

That's pretty much when the day went off the rails, into the rhubarb. We headed to Fremont to 'kill time' before grabbing the WAX bus down to MGM. This translates to losing about $120 each in Pick'em and various other games (Super Double Double Fucker Bonus).

Okay, these things happen, it'll come back right?

Hopped aboard the 12:31 WAX and made our way to MGM. The plan was, of course, to play the Lion's Share slot with the $2.2M jackpot.

First, though, Mrs. F needed sustenance, in this case, two $5 hot dogs from the food court, which was filled with 10,000 youths wandering around sending sexts (probably) to each other. That place seems more like a mall than a casino. And the prices are sickening. Even more sickening than food court hotdogs.

Sickening food court hotdogs.
We located the slot (which has been moved recently) and some ploppy and her husband were camped out in front of it.

I won't bore you with the details. We went back to check time after time and these two were monopolizing what was to be the subject of a very important blog post - this one.

We played this, we played that, I played Sigma Derby (didn't win a nickel) and the wife of the pair still had her ass glued to the chair.

"It looks like God took 220 pounds of wet clay and threw it down in a fat ball onto the chair in front of the Lion's Share slot," I whined.

Mrs. Flusher just looked at me.

"And then he gouged out two nasty eyeholes and made a slit for an angry, greedy little mouth and stuck a carrot nose in the middle of her ugly face," I continued.

I think I cried a little bit at the frustration of not being able to get on my beloved Lion's Share.

There was one bright spot in all of this. As part of a gambling expedition outside of the budget for this trip, Mrs. Flusher took a flyer on $5 video poker in the high limit room, adjacent to the (still being hogged) Lion's Share. The progressive on this thing was ridiculous.

"Hey, that's a $9,422.37 bonus on top of the usual $20K for a royal on $5 VP - this is worth playing!" I said.

First hand, she hit 2 pairs, second hand she hit a full house and cashed out $350 from a $100 buy in.

$225 full house. Heh.

MGM Green Sigma Derby action, into the stretch!
We gave up on ever winning $2.2M and headed to Excalibur. Although not before dumping more money into MGM's coffers.

At the castle, we played the quarter full pay Double Double. We got our asses kicked.

We'd won nothing - no - thing - since leaving the California hours before (not including the secret $5 VP play - don't ask).

And soon it was time to grab the bus back downtown to get to the Cal in time for the awards banquet with drawings for prize money that I will never fucking see in a million years. It was that kind of day.

Very large pictures of food on bus stop billboards look very bad up close.
The driver of the WAX was swerving all over I-15 and I started making puking noises and saying loudly, "This guy drives like Jimmy Poon! If he keeps it up, I'm gonna HURRRL!!!"

Well, we hit some traffic and stopped, and all of a sudden, the black chick in front of us with frizzy hair and a 64oz Big Boy sippy cup with some sort of horrid concoction in it ran to the front of the bus to talk to the driver.

It turned out, she wass really and truly being made sick by the drive (or by other things she'd consumed) and was in danger of horking up her lunch all over the RTC Westcliff Lake Express bus.

I occasionally made some nasty 'ullllp' sounds and coughs and such and wafted some Loco Moco burps her way to try to get her going but she made it to where we got off the Interstate.

The driver came back to check on her - he really didn't want her puking on his nice clean bus.

"Just look at the horizon, you'll be okay," I said helpfully.

We made it to Fremont, dry, and on time, and had a mostly forgettable banquet experience during which we, of course, one sweet fuck all in prize money.

Did I mention by this point in time we were both completely out of our day's stake? No, I didn't, because it's so unfair and pisses me off. I expect to win, every time out. And why not?!

Odds, that's why not. House edge. Bad luck. Variance. That's why not.

Let me characterize this further. My stake was $467. Mrs. Flusher's was $500. And it was gone. Alllll gone.

We reloaded with a couple of hundred each and regrouped at Main St. Station. I'll summarize. Mrs. Flusher lost a hundred and bailed.

I played 50 cent Super Double Double Ass Bonus for about 1 hour 20 minutes. And I played Bonus Poker in there at 25 cent and 50 cent for about 10 minutes. I was dealt 2 quads, both NOT when I was playing Super Double Double Shitheel Bonus.

The second, 4s, had a kicker. It was worth $100 on Bonus, and would have been $400 on S.D.D.S.B.

And during the 1 hour 20 minutes I played the high return high volatility Super Double Double Suck My Rat Bonus, I got one more non-premium quad. Always in the wrong place at the right time, at sixes and sevens.

I played a few quarter slots and then put my last hundred of $667 (yikes) into a dollar slot, 3/4/5 times pay. Wow, that baby played like a champ.

I pounded it for half an hour the way you pound a sailor bar hooker during drunken sex. (What?!! We really need to look into who writes these similes. I mean... really, it should be 'the way one pounds a sailor bar hooker', not 'the way you pound etc. etc.'.)

I calculated that I was putting about $35 through a minute, so it was about $1K in action.

I hit 777 for $100 once and then hit double bar double bar 5 times pay for $200 and shortly thereafter cashed out, even on my evening play with $200 preserved, but still down $467 on the day.

I'm afraid to do the math and as I wrote this, we were playing drunken TV Keno in the room. It's pathetic. Definitely not the Zipperless Royal Flusher Way.


    1. Tell me you DON'T put ketchup on your hot dog.

    2. Mrs. Flusher is a mustard gyrll. I put ketchup and mustard on. Sometimes ketchup and Dijon. Actually, I brought 3 packets of Goulden's spicy from MGM back to the room in my pocket, to defray some of our gambling losses.


    3. Glad you liked the moco. I find it uniquely delicious, with the throw-up gravy and all.


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