USA Online Gambling Legal Sites & Online Gambling Laws

As a female who's been on the game for 15 years now, I've met a load of creeps but only a few only made me feel unsafe. To start off I've always had a lap top since I was in high school, a luxury back then I worked hard to earn enough to buy one. My mom almost took my money I earned for drugs but luckily money I made in tips were in cash so it was easier to hide it from her. At first my mom was mad I bought myself a laptop but she soon forgot like everything. My dad could care less, and my older brother already had his own. So I started playing WoW with him at 14 and back then girls were unheard of. So I got the usual creeps who usually backed off after hearing my age or they were young to. But not this guy, this guy loved that I was underage.
I was about 16 and used to creepy guys at this point, no longer a noob at the game or fending off the creeps it was no surprise a new guy in the guild started hitting on me. Now I was 16, dumb young, horny and stupid but I knew I wasn't going to find love on WoW where you knew no one in real life. Plus I had the ultimate crush on a guy I couldn't have because he was my brothers best friend, but in my mind back then I only wanted him. So it was easy to turn guys down despite being desperate as hell for one guy lol.
But that all changed after my brothers friend went off to college, I had a part time job with my brothers friend but girls at work surrounded him and I became demoralized I'd never find love. Que "19" year old guy on WoW who made me feel wanted. I had a camera phone so I could send and post pictures at that age and back then I mostly used facebook, myspace and photobucket. I lost a lot of weight my sophomore year, so I posted confidently bikini pics and sexy pictures thinking I'd lure the attention of my brothers friend whom was 19.
So when this guy who was also 19 liked me, it didn't phase me. He looked the part in his photos and his younger brother was my age... So I thought... He was extreamly attractive in his photos and even proved it was him in his pictures by holding items I asked for. He started paying my wow subscription which in the long run I realized it was to get my home address and real name. I was so stupid and heart broken over my brothers friend, years of teaching myself online safety and the ability to be strong against flirts was all but lost in the fog.
We'd talk for hours on ventrillo, and he'd make me feel pretty. I was completely blinded by this point, he sent me gifts and I didn't even question how he had my address. Then he offered to drive and pick me up, as only then did I suddenly get cold feet.
I had a good friend on WoW, someone my brother met at PAX and joined the guild and is still one of my best friends to this day (tho we both aren't fond of my older brother). Hes 6 years older than me but never creeped on me, was more like the protective brother I lacked. (Well least till I was 24 and single for the first time did we hook up lol but that's because we were friends for so long, but the distance led to it not turning into a relationship) He caught onto it through conversation and was my words of wisdom in a time I was lacking any of my own. He saw something was fishy when I couldn't.
I told my friend I was scared to meet him because .... Dumb teenager logic, I thought he would not like me. My friend chimed in that I shouldn't meet anyone off the internet at my age. I told him about the gifts and I swear I've never been scolded like this in my life, not even by my own parents, but he always cared like that. He wondered why I would give my address to someone I never met, and the expensive gifts I got were not something the average 19 year old could afford. None of this ever clicked for me of course because I was lonely and trying to prove idk to myself, my crush or something I could get a boyfriend.
Like that I told the guy it wasn't wise to meet in person and my "parents" said I wasn't allowed to. That's when it went dark. At first it was pestering over and over, guilting me over gifts he gave me and encouraging me to defy my parents. While he kept bothering me, it never once occured to me he'd lose his shit. While my friend was worried shitless about the guy having my address, going as far to drive the 11 hours to my house and explain the situation to my dad as I refused to tell him out of fear of getting in trouble at the time, all while taking his spring break in my state instead of his own with his friends. There's a reason he's still one of my best friends. He has a little sister of his own as well and she's my age so his protective nature is natural.
Eventually he made me block the guy and that was that, this guy was pissed off. He'd go on different accounts to accuse me of gold digging and using him. Luckily my friend was smart enough and had the foresight to change my wow password and even paid for my account for me taking this guy off it entirely as one of this guy's threats was to delete my account. But it didn't end there, it got worse as he'd consistently find ways to message me and tell me how horrible I was. Till about a month had passed.
I was walking home from school, about 2 mile walk in wealthy suburbs of New England, which I had done for years, many kids did as it was a very safe town with no crime in it or surrounding towns. Without a second thought I took off with my 100lb back back (maybe and over estimate lol) put my head phones in and started my 20 minute walk home. It was cold so I had earmuffs over my headphones only downing out sound more too. I swear if I could talk to myself as a kid I probably just slap myself for stupidity. Because wow guy, knew I walked home everyday as I talked about it. He knew my address and I never thought twice.
I was on the back roads walking home and honestly easy to map from my school to home as it was pretty straightforward with only one turn. At half way home it between songs I heard a vague crunching sound of tires rolling over gravel on the road slowly. I turned around to see a tinted black car that you couldn't see much of the person in front. I jogged out of the driveway I was standing in front of assuming it was waiting to turn in. But I didn't turn in, the roads were dead and it didn't make sense for him not to go around.
I swear the saying that you go cold when you're terrified is absolutely true. It could of been a summers day at 95 degrees and my bones would of been cold. My heart just sank and my breathing was uncontrollable. I felt like I had no control over my body as I realized this guy was following me, my blood truely ran cold and my hands shook as tears formed and my skin felt tight. My body felt like it wasn't ready to fight or flight but simply freeze there and die. It only got worse as the second time I turned my head to see the car stop, I stopped, my world stopped.
I couldn't stop staring, just froze and breathing like all my school books were on my chest. Crying silently, my eyes hurt with no tears or sound as I just stood there. The door opened after what felt like hours but only seconds maybe a minute. And it was infact him, it was the attractive guy from the photos, not a catfish but something seemed different. At first I thought it was his angry expression but soon realized, he was definitely not 19, more like 30+. I could barely think over the loud sound of my heart racing as it froze me in place.
I thought I was about to throw up as he spoke to me. Told me to get in the car or he'd light my house on fire and kill my dog in front of me. I honestly just couldn't move, couldn't reach for my phone as his words just froze me. And like some magic we both failed to notice the little old lady on her porch watching this play out. Suddenly I hear her yell "get away from that girl right now before I burn you alive".
We both turned to meet her eyes, pissed off small lady about 60 or 70 with white hair. I think she noticed my frozen in fear state as she told me to get over to her quickly. Like that I ran over to her tossing off my heavy brick of a back pack. It was obvious he was unsure what to do next as he stood there and watched me run to her. Must of been a sight this tiny thin old lady standing in front of a teenage girl yelling at this man to go away. Like that savior number 2 joined the battle as her husband stepped out, guy who looked like be been through a war or two, with a shot gun of all things and booming voice. Gun pointed saying "I've shot and killed men for less reason, you better leave now"
He got into his car and drove off as I simply collapsed, all that fear just came out as I cried harder and harder as my brain sifted through the past few months of mistakes. After calming me down enough to speak in non hyperventilating words, she asked me if I knew him. I told her kind of, but only online from a videogame, not real life. Of course explaining it wasn't easy, and her husband couldn't grasp why I'd wanna printed I was at war (I'm sure in his experience he was thinking call of duty not magical creatures in a game called World of 'War'craft). She got on the phone with the school counselor, her daughter apparently and told her my name. I was well known to her daughter ironically, but it was only 250 or less kids in the school and the town itself was small. Many staff at our school had family in town, kids at school they were related to either by their own children or their siblings children. It was the kind of town if you didn't leave by a certain age your were stuck there.
So honestly it seems ironic but entirely not a huge surprise. The counselor was well aware of my family and my mom's drug addiction as child services had been involved few times. She came by in 10 minutes to pick me up and asked me a ton of questions of course knowing I didn't want to involve police as I was scared of being taken away from my parents again. (FYI foster care was worse than a drugged out mom on prescriptions). We weren't rich but we were more well off than many. Though my mom worked my dad kept my mom on a tight budget to keep her from buy prescriptions from Canada she wasn't prescribed (hence her trying to take my money). She knew all of this and knew though rough I was better off than foster care which was a gamble with losing odds at best. Plus 2 more years and I'd be off to college anyway. So we didn't involve the cops, but she made me promise to take the bus every day and to inform my dad of the situation. She also called my dad at work to inform him and had a teacher make sure I got on the bus everyday till I graduated even.. really sucked but I understood.
If it ended there it would be nice but there's still a bit more and I'm sorry for the length and grammar, it's late at night and I recalling from memory and typing on my phone.
Two days after this, my dad had to fly out for business, my brother was off at college so it left me and my high mom "who promised my dad she stay sober while he was gone but I was used to helping her while she was high, was like taking care of a child". But I was on edge as ever creek in that big house from the 60s, cat stir at night, and dog barking outside set me on edge I barely slept. My friend from WoW called every night making sure I was ok for the past month. I lived in the middle of the woods, next to a huge river in my backyard so there was still a lot of wildlife outside in the dead silence of cold months. Running water is a important source of water when lakes freeze. I had been used to all the bumps in the night, cats coming and going and dog barking at ever animal in the yard, but it all seemed new to me as I layed in bed trying to drown out my fears. The house I grew up in was a 6 bedroom house, I had a little sister too but she stayed with my grandma in another state per court order while I was allowed to choose due to her only being 9 and me 16. The other rooms were used as game room, office for my dad and guest room mostly for when my sister visited my grandma and her had a room.
So in a large house like that in the middle of the woods, it was scary to virtually be alone because my mom accounted for defenseless. I was letting my last cat inside for the night (5 cats who all knew to come in at night for dinner and stayed in till morning). And at the end of the long driveway between my neighbor and our house was parked a black car. I quickly shut the door and locked it after my cat got inside. I made sure all 5 doors were locked and even put card board on the glass doors to the pool idk hoping if he broke them it would delay him if that car was his.
I went and turned off all the lights, and got all my cats into one room so I knew they were safe. Here's the thing about my dog, he's untrained for the most part but was basically a giant lab puppy in his mind. But he growled at strangers, not barked like at animals. We had to keep him outside if we had guests but he never bit anyone and if you spent enough time around him he'd eventually accept you. Also he didn't growl at all strangers either so he wasn't the most reliable guard dog either. But he was big, and deep bark.
I mauled over what to do as I sat there in the dark with my dog, waiting for shadow to pass by the window. I eventually went upstairs to my mom's room and woke her up from her sleeping pill slumber. Groggy and still kinda high she didn't quite grasp what I was telling her till I started crying. She sorta sobered up and asked me to get her some coffee and I did. All while I'm watching my dogs every move because I know he could sense something before I did. As my mom sobered her fear in her eyes grew. Eventually she got the idea to call my neighbors and ask them if they knew the car, after all said no, 2 of the men went out of their house to check the car together.
The car was empty, at closer inspection though, they noticed it was a newer car, lexus, and in the passenger seat was a lap top. The car was locked but with a flashlight you could see somewhat into the tinted windows. They never told us why but something they saw in the car prompted them to call the local sheriff, only one and he lived in town sorta thing. We were too small to have a police department. He drove over about 15 minutes later, ran the plates and asked the houses around about it. Apparently it was a rental car from Ohio, and he was calling to see who was rented to but the offices were closed I think. He stuck around in his car for about an hour till someone came out of the woods and ran back in as the cop turned his spot light on him. I couldn't see what he was pointing at with his light as it was at the side of my house and I was looking at the front. I guess he called for back up as 3 other cop cars showed up in 5 minutes of it from the neighboring town/highway patrol idk. At which a lady cop got out as I asked to speak with her and her call my counselor at school to explain who that might be. I was pretty shy back then but idk something about a female cop made me feel more comfortable to open up to.
I told her the gist of the story, then she called my counselor who backed up my story but also explaining why I was scared of cops cuz my history with foster care and not wanting to go back. At which a mostly sober mom joined me hugging me, doing her typical apologetic routine. But also offering much needed comfort as she called my dad too. Eventually the lady cop asked if she could take a look around the house to see if things were secure and get any information from my laptop about him.
In her search she found something I didn't think about checking, the basement door was not just unlocked but open. It's never unlocked so I didn't even think to check it as our back yard floods in the spring due to beaver dams and it's got extra seals and stuff to prevent the basement from flooding ... Again... But the stuff sealing it which was mostly sand bags and stuff were set aside. But the door at the bottom of the stares was locked still though it had some damage like someone tried picking it. But he had access to half the basement that was storage (basement was sectioned and the other half used to be used for my brothers parties.). The door between the sections was like a front door not an indoor door, as in the summer my dad left the hatch open to dry out the basement and adjust pool settings as it was basically the pool house and the cats loved it so it also had a few cat beds. The section that led upstairs was locked from the inside and the wall and door were not dry wall and cheap door but lock and key heavy door and wall was brick.
Upon noticing this my dad confirmed he had not left it open, my suspicions that black car was his was pretty much confirmed. As we walked through the house to make sure everything was still safe, she got on my lap top as they searched the woods, I gave her everything I had, his photos, username and she even checked to see if his credit card was still on my account but it wasn't. But the last few didgets were. She then asked to take my laptop for a few days as she thought she could get some good evidence from it. I asked her to please not damage it and return it as soon as possible because I used it a lot, before smart phones it was all I had.
After few hours and onlooking neighbors had gone to bed the cops came back empty handed but left a cop outside our house and towed the guys car. From what the lady cop told me, what permitted such fear was in the car there was two guns, some sort of rope and handcuffs. And the guy who ran back into the dense woods was wearing a winter ski mask (not out of season but suspicious none the less).
So eventually I try and lay down and go to sleep but pretty sure I was going to call out sick tomorrow and kept all my cats inside for the day. I was too restless to sleep, every sound made me so scared. My mom slept with the dog in her room (I'm very allergic to animals but less to cats as I kinda built up a tolerance to cats but not dogs) and my cats slept in my room most nights by choice as my room was usually the warmest.
At 3:30 am ish I heard a knock at the back door, and a guy say, undercover police officer, open up. I was still awake as I walked downstairs to make out a guy standing in the dark with a gun. As he saw me he demanded I let him in now as he needed to speak with me. Something felt off, my gut knew it before I did that this guy's voice seemed forced. Like someone purposely making their voice deeper. And why was he at the back door?
So I turned on a light outside and sure enough, it was him. I just screamed as quickly as I screamed he started hitting the door hard. Wasn't a very loud horror movie scream but more like a gasp scream. I don't think the fear in my body had a loud scream to let out. But the banging was pretty loud as I ran to the front to see if the officer was still outside. He was but he wasn't getting out of his car. I didn't wanna run outside as I'm not a fast runner so I turned the porch lights on and off couple times but still nothing. After a minute my dog came bolting down to the door barking and growling nearly foaming at the mouth. Soon followed my mom who yelled she had a gun, she didn't but bluff is bluff. Somehow during all this the cop outside had snuck around back and had his gun pointed at him yelling to put his gun down.
I hid as the rest went down but he was arrested, no trial needed me to attend and my statement was enough. Come to find out he wasn't even American, the car was rented under his friends name, and after all was done he was deported back to Canada. I assume something with his passport would prevent him from coming back to the USA as the cop reassured me he couldn't come back to the USA now. Idk what exactly he was charged with but I think my dad said activated assault with a deadly weapon, attempted kidnapping and something else. And it also it turned out he was 32 years old not 19 so I assume me being a me being a minor carried a charge.
And life moved on from there. I had plenty of creeps before and after but he was by the worst from WoW. I had a couple from streaming but I was an adult and much better a staying safe online. Only one worse than this guy was my ex boyfriends cousin who made my life hell for couple years but that's another story for another time.

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Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.”
Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…”
The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed.
Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.”
He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…”
Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses.
Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.”
Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.”
The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.”
She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.”
She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?”
Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.”
Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face.
The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness.
**** * ****
Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits.
He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical.
He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods.
He shook off the depressing musings… There are NO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided.
He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook.
As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?”
The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.”
Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.”
With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.”
Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind.
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Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan.
Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself.
He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses. A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs. Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all.
A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs.
He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea.
He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?”
Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.”
Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend.
Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony.
**** * ****
Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted.
He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles.
He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn.
**** * ****
Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?”
Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.”
Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?”
Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.

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**** * ****
Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.”
Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…”
The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed.
Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.”
He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…”
Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses.
Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.”
Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.”
The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.”
She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.”
She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?”
Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.”
Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face.
The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness.
**** * ****
Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits.
He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical.
He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods.
He shook off the depressing musings… There are NO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided.
He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook.
As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?”
The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.”
Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.”
With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.”
Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind.
**** * ****
Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan.
Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself.
He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses. A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs. Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all.
A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs.
He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea.
He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?”
Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.”
Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend.
Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony.
**** * ****
Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted.
He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles.
He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn.
**** * ****
Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?”
Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.”
Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?”
Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.

Hello, and happy holidays to you all. Thanks for your time in reading/responding to this thread.
To start, I enjoy playing very much. My first blackjack session ever @ the Borgata many years ago started with $100 @ $10 min, playing full tables and some 1v1. My spread was 10 dollar, and 20 dollar, and I played for 6 hours straight and cashed out $600. I would've kept going for probably another 6-10 hours, if my dad didn't pull me off the table because it was time to go back home.
That was my mid 20s, I turned 31 in September. I investigating counting a little years back, learning hi lo +1 0 -1 level I count, but never pursued it to this degree presently, and definitely what I knew back then was basically the equivalent of nil. Any money I wagered back then was purely gambling and I think I was getting high on it, even losing money all the time the uncertainty effect gets produced regardless of outcome.
I've been teaching myself computer science since COVID hit in march; I've basically been on a year long vacation, long overdue. I worked for 7 years straight without one for various companies after graduating from college in 2012 with degree in Psych. So, I started with SQL, which unlocked mental barriers to understanding computer science, programming theory, and its applications. Then I taught myself Python syntax. Last, its application I chose is data science, which makes sense because my job history is in database administration, I get off on calculating numbers and doing statistical analyses, and lastly, my educational background is in human behavior. Data science encompasses all those areas and its a trip bros! I'm very excited to pursue this because my whole life, I never had a career choice and as a result goal. I will earn more money with my career in computers and data than playing cards. That being said, what remains is an $880 chip stack on my newvegas online account, and an additional 12 weeks of time to myself before re-entering the job world Spring.
I would say, up until this very moment, I never fully understood probability, wagering, EV, or gambling in general, and it's only what I've learned about computer science, programming, and statistics that reversed that misunderstanding. Here's another thanks to this resource and to your responses/time.
Before moving forward, some additional points to keep in mind, just so that answers to my questions can be direct :-), hoping to save everyone time:
The rules: 8 deck shoe cut in half dead center. $10 -$100 max. 7 seats. DAS. Dealer stay on soft 17. Oh yeah, and beautiful West Russian dealers (the girls obviously, I am male ty).
The goal: According to Colin on BJapprenticeship.com, a $5,000 bankroll for Blackjack offers a 1.00 % risk of ruin playing @ $10.00 game. I interpret this to mean, with a 5k bankroll, a player can enjoy the game only worrying about losing all his bankroll 1% of the time. Correct me if I'm wrong there. So, if on the off chance I do not lose, and grind all the way up to at least $5,000, my goal of investing my time and mental energy to playing on this Online Table is to earn 5k in winnings, and then move on to using those funds on Live Real Table Quest (I am in NYC, USA). In my opinion this is a very modest expectation, and it would be hard but it is not impossible. And I really enjoy playing blackjack and especially counting as accurately as I do now so, it is not a waste of time. But that is the goal and it is clear.
The rollover: I bought my chip stack online 12/23. The rollover requirement is 18025 points, but if you make it, get to keep the entire thing whatever it is. Based on the numbers, if I did it right, if I managed to get to 5k, I'll have gotten enough points, or at least close to. And with 5k meeting the requirement at that point would be easy and very fun. Right now because I'm at the start it's an enjoyable grind with a large chance of busting. After 11 hours of play, I've accumulated ~ 1k points, having played 584 hands, yielding a 48.6% win rate, including push. So it's probably closer to where I'm at on the app having played ~ 20k hands, 43%.
Assumptions: 1.) The odds are strongly against me. 2.) I'm probably gonna lose. 3. ) Although the rules are poor, the game is fair (the shuffles, the dealers, etc.). 4.) This is, definitively, my last attempt at fulfilling this venture. The reason is not to get rich, or to win big, or to become an overnight millionaire, none of that illusory, delusional bullshit. I like playing; I think I've gathered enough ammo in my Arsenal to try and beat this particular instance of Blackjack (the rules, online, etc) with a modest win. However, I most certainly do not expect to, and will not make any further attempts to again. Why? There's no point haha. Just see above (for myself if I need reminding). 5.) There's no rush. I'm willing to just min bet all the way to 5k, however long it takes, but the advantage does change sometimes so, get to that. But yeah there's no rush and I'm trying to properly schedule my playing time so that a.) it doesn't interfere with more important shit and b.) if I end up losing, won't lose sleep over it.
Loss Streaks
In the 12 hours half a day I logged so far, there were 9 sessions played, averaging 90 minutes per session. Of those 9, especially in the beginning, the House would be getting these Win streaks of minimum 4 sometimes 5, all the way up to a maximum of 12, with one possibly 2 wins for the player in that haystack.
So check this out for example in my first session, the first deck or so was playable (even W/L ratio), but then look at this pattern: 'L-L-L-L-W-L-L-L-L-L'. If I was just betting 10 on each hand there, that's 100 gone pretty quickly, without being able to do anything about it. I remember the types of hands these are too; little ones (2-6) that successfully draw to hi hands and do not bust, the 3 card especially. Also, according to my notes, most of the time the true counts in these shoes are bad (negative). In the above example, that one needle Win has to have a wide enough spread to least account for half of the losses in this streak. Or, do I just continue to bet against the true edge, ALWAYS, regardless of how much money I'm losing, and not bet more to chase the annoying streak of loss?
Betting the edge
The streaks I mentioned above, as far as I'm concerned, are the norm moving forward. I don't mind; not complaining, in fact, I enjoy the challenge. I've embraced Buddhist philosophy recently, and the journey is what matters. I would not be investing additional time into this venture if I would not enjoy the ride, win or lose. But because of this level of difficulty, added to the fact that the edge rarely goes beyond 1% in either direction, I came to the conclusion that I should be betting minimum probably almost all the time, and throwing in my 'raises' if you will maybe only 2-3 times per shoe.
What's happening is, check this example out in session 7. This one lasted 2.5 hours, and the notes are pretty bad, sounds like I was having a lousy time. It says that I was in a streak during the first 2 decks, this one: 'L-L-L-L-L-L-W-L' and then it picked up. TC in this series was +1, it was either a little one drawing to 20, or a 20 in the hole each time. I had already lost half my stack at that point because I was betting double each hand and losing, trying to get it back; but those increased bets were far greater than should have been given the TC is only +1. I had 300 left, bet 125, caught 11 vs 5, and doubled. It was scary, but it held. Now the thing is, did it have to be scary? The same things would've happened if the bet was lower, closer to what the edge actually was instead of a gross over bet, and would that thus reduce the risk of ruin in that instance considerably? If so, I should just sit back and not worry so much about the dollar value of these bets because at the end of the day, it's just a chip stack because of the wagering requirement anyway.
For example, is it better in that series, losing, during a TC of +1, to just keep the bets at you know, 1-2 units on top for your raise? Let's say by some miracle, the TC went up to +3.5. Would my 125 then actually be warranted? Like let's say I get home later, take care of my shit, and fire up a 2-3 hour session. Lets say the first 3 decks I play are loss series like above, but the TC is +.5 - +1. Let's say my 2 unit raise is 25, and my 3 unit raise is 50. Is it more appropriate to play 25s and 50s, even if I lose 6 of them in a row before winning one, than to martingale the entire stack to break even? It's really, how to navigate through loss streaks to get to the win streaks, and losing absolute minimum doing so?
Scheduling
24 hours in a day.
Food/exercise/hygeine in the morning = 2 hours
Work = 4 hours
Lunch = 1 hour
Work = 4 hours
Dinner = 1 hour
Free time = 6 hours
Sleep = 8 hours
Pleasure is as important as abstinence. Balance MUST be achieved to live comfortably, with purpose, in my opinion. The simplest solution is creating a daily schedule and adhering to it, ALWAYS. My way didn't and doesn't work, the hedonistic way, twanging the vagus nerve at the sacrifice of everything else. So, before I sit down again, I want to have a clear schedule carved out. This ensures that, if I lose my money because of bad luck, or a mistake, I won't lose sleep over it. The blackjack playing will happen at the very end of the day, the 2nd to last activity before sleep, the last activity being reading of miscellaneous materials of interest.
That leaves me with 6 hours of time that I can spend doing whatever I want, without having to worry about it. I'll have consumed 3,000 calories, consumed new knowledge, and be able to play at max capacity. What is the strongest approach? To play time? To play a number of shoes? To play a number of hands?
This answer should not be based on a numerical value, because there is no rush, and there is time allocated to not go bust, which comes down to extremely bad luck possibly but more making a mistake, in betting especially. Also, what about stop limits? Perhaps play to a certain win limit, or a loss limit? I don't need to necessarily lose everything at once, do I? Because there's no rush, my bills are paid, im feeding myself, and I'm playing this 'money' as a chip stack and until I reach 5,000 they are only chips. Without any chips, I can't play online ever again.
That should be everything, these are really the only issues I'm experiencing in this particular game.
THANK YOU FOR READING! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, to 2021!

Alright autists, do you like watching people kick goals or would like to also kick goals financially or in general succeed in any sort of aspect in your life at all? Let me introduce you to SHO, which you should definitely invest into fo' sho'. I should be publicly executed for that shit joke tbh. Here are the details:
Name: SportsHero Share Price: 0.032c Market Cap: ~$13 million CEO is a top 10 shareholder, with the top 20 holding 58% of shares.

• Next multi bagger (Do you like money?)
• Sports prediction/news/content/streaming/gamification app, very scalable, includes web platform and is cloud based.
• Focus is Olahbola app in Indonesia which launched in July and has generated 1 million users at October, with 500000 within the first 60 days. This isn't your fake MLM EM1 registrations either - these are real users. They are aiming to reach 1.5 million users by December.
• Exclusive multi-year partnership with Indonesian Football Federation.
• Exclusive sponsorship rights in Indonesia with LaLiga, Spain's top football league.
• USA market is valued due to its high population and economy, but Indonesia has the fourth highest population after USA's third with rapidly increasing digital uptake in Indonesia.
• $9 million invested in R&D, so even if they continue to make 0 revenue, they can't drop much lower due to the value of technology - sky is the limit, despite this being a super autistic train of thought haha.
• Valued very low because they are yet to generate revenue, with the last quarterly reporting $0 but have an actual pipeline in place and are set to generate revenue in this quarter in December 2020, capitalising on their rapidly growing userbase.
• The share price used to be a lot higher because they were using their less developed product in much more saturated markets where gambling was also already legalised, allowing them a lot less engagement. I class this Indonesia development as almost an entirely new business.
• Brand collaboration with Nivea and Tokopedia - which is Indonesia's largest e-commerce platform, basically their Amazon.
• 3 year revenue generating deal with MolaTV, which is basically Indonesia's Foxtel/TV network/Netflix which includes live sports.
• Very very cheap valuation compared to any of its peers.

And that's not even including the following speculative juicy future potential prospects and catalysts:

• Their platform is white-label, meaning it can be expanded to any other languages or sports, or other companies looking to make their own version of the platform, meaning they could start receiving SaaS revenue streams.
• In 2012, Indonesia made changes to legislation in order to outlaw online gambling because of so much money being spent betting on the Euro 2012 football championship. Regardless, a report by PWC purports that the gambling industry in Asia will grow to $80 billion over the next few years, but cultural and religious barriers need to be overcome. The market is definitely there for it in Indonesia, but if SportsHero can soft loophole this or secure a licence if legislation changes, they would be very well positioned to take advantage of it. They already seem to be approaching skirting around the edges of this with users being able to compete in competitions to win prizes and participate in giveaways.

Financial position:

• Just completed ~$1.4mil heavily oversubscribed placement, with an instituional investor subscribing for an additional $450,000.
• Up to $5 mil financing facilty over three years, so funding won't be an issue for a while - no spicy CRs to ruin your inability to look more than one week into the future with investments with your tiny weak paper hands.

Happy to discuss any feedback on this DD or any information that might be wrong.
As they say, GLTAH (Good Luck Thick Ass Hoes)

TLDR: Mobile and online game company seems to knowingly allow at least one player to cheat and steal rewards from paying customers for close to two years, resulting in players wanting to file a class action lawsuit (MI, USA).
I play a somewhat popular mobile and online game. Like many mobile games, they have a shop in which they sells customers the ability to increase the power of their account. The more powerful the account the greater the chances of winning matches and placing high scores within events, which rewards players with in-game prizes.
The game sells bundles of items for roughly between $3 and $100 apiece on a rotating basis. These bundles include either random items from within a small pool. These items should increase the power of an account within the game. Purchases are also for in-game currency that players use to make purchases within the game, as you would with cash. Some items and bundles within the game can be purchased for cash and others by spending in-game currency, which are purchased for cash.
Purchases made with in-game currency are almost entirely based on a gamble. For instance, pay X amount of in-game currency on a chance to win one out of ten prizes of varying quality. Many of these bundles for purchase are sold on tiered structure and the more that is spent the higher the chances of receiving more powerful items. Buying more powerful items makes an account stronger. Having a stronger account theoretically gives an account a much higher chance of winning prizes in events.
I have personally spent a few thousand dollars over several years, one small purchase at a time, but many people that I know in the game have spent over $40,000 and there's some real whales in the game who have spent much, much more than that., just to give you an idea of the money flowing through the game.
The game has numerous special competitions. They take place on a near weekly basis. Through these competitions players earn in-game prizes based on how well they perform against other individual players and guilds against guilds. The best prizes are limited, and go to a small number of top players who perform the best in any given event. How well one does almost entirely depends on the amount of money spent in the game, but there is also some skill, luck and basic mathematics involved as well.
The special competitions in the game are based on players having a limited number of turns within the events. For example, 10 turns a day for 4 days, giving each player 40 turns apiece in total to get the highest score possible against an AI versions of other players accounts, with wins and losses equaling a set number of points.
For more than a year, three accounts, at least two of which are said to be controlled by the same person, and all of which are in the same guild, have been using an unknown exploit in order to cheat through all of the competitions and steal top prizes from the entire community of players. Players that have paid a lot of money to compete in these challenges are seemingly being robbed by this cheater.
While the method of the exploit is unknown, the effect is that it gives this person using it additional turns within the competitive events. Having extra turns grants them impossible scores, which is why they are easy to identify.
This has been documented thoroughly for well over than a year, and continually reported to the company that owns and manages the game since as early as the summer of 2019. There are numerous threads on the game's message board with hundreds of posts and thousands of views begging the company to either fix the exploit or ban the player that is abusing it. Numerous emails and direct messages have been sent from players to the game's employees, but for some yet unknown reason nothing is ever done about it.
The company will only post what read like canned responses about how they are aware of the reports and that they will look into it, but coming up on two years and they have refused to ever do anything about it. They appear to knowingly and continually allow the use of this exploit to continue while thousands of people are spending money on the game in order to compete in these events that the cheaters are stealing the prizes from.
It should perhaps be pointed out that the company is otherwise very active when it comes to policing the game. They have banned other players for different offenses within the game, and continually monitor their message boards, which has a full time moderator employed by the company. They are not inactive. They just refuse to enforce any rules when it comes to these particular cheaters.
Many have speculated that it could be one of the company's own employees, or a friend or family member, because few other solutions would seem to explain how this one particular issue refuses to be acted upon, and the exploit and theft allowed to continue for such a long period of time.
For more than a year people have been mentioning filing a class action lawsuit against the company for intentionally allowing the cheating to continue while the community of players gets robbed of their rewards by the person using the exploit. As far as I know, nobody has actually done anything to initiate one, and I don't know if they would have any sort of case to pursue against company if anyone tried.
They seem to believe that because a player making purchases has a reasonable assumption that spending money on the game gives a plausible expectation that their purchases will pay off in competition prizes, that the company allowing these cheaters to claim those prizes by nefarious means for such an insanely long period of time should make the company liable for some sort of damages.
Can anybody with knowledge about these types of thing please share their thoughts with me on this? I would like to know if there is a possible case here, and if so, how to proceed.