Grits are solid with butter, black pepper, maybe some scrambled egg mixed in for good measure. Pepper is key. mmmmmm

A private game is a grey area in Florida. They are technically not allowed in casinos but they run anyway by keeping fake names on the list, or people to hold seats. There is the Naples 5/10/20 game that is huge, and they keep it private unless you can be vouched for. It is held at either Naples track or Seminole Immokalee, they changed venues over something menial.

The 5/10/25 game that Racener holds is private (obviously not anymore, lol) I was invited to what used to be a 25/25 PLO game at Derby "the green chip game" by a well known lawyer in Sarasota but I told him I wasn't rolled for it and I don't accept backing from non-family members in cash games. These games are held behind the bar at the tables that are rarely used and is roped off usually. They used to run a high stakes OFC game back there too.

As far as home games that run that high, there are a few, but they usually do not involve any pros. The Boca Grande game is an example, it's a gentleman's game and they don't want outsiders usually. There's also a big game in Greater Tampa, but I have never been there, nor would I play at stakes that big with clowns like that running it. There are a couple big private PLO games in Miami-Fort Lauderdale, but again they take them off the streets of the casino because they want to do things their own way, and a lot of dealers can't stand the antics of a lot of these guys. I don't blame them, a lot of these guys can't control themselves, lol. I just don't know enough people in Miami that play, plus I'm not rolled/wouldn't get an invite for that game. There's also a huge game somewhere in south Georgia outside of Jacksonville - anyone know about this game?

I've always said if poker opened up in Atlanta it would be the largest/highest stakes room in the country. Poker is huge in Georgia.

I've played in many games around Atl. There are some real big games where some of the local athletes & celebs play.

Disappointment

I didn't realize how tired I was, I slept until the early afternoon thanks to Daniel's house having blackout curtains everywhere. It was as if Nicole and Daniel had been talking all night, because they were in the same place talking when I woke up again. I'm sure Daniel thought I was interested in looking at how Conn College had changed - I made sure to tell him I had no interest whatsoever. When I left, the Dean of my class told me that I had 3 days until I had to leave, and 2 days later she told me she was going to call the police if I didn't leave my dorm room. **** that school and it's overpriced education. I tried to keep in touch with my friends there, and aside from my Bulgarian friend, I hadn't seen any of them in 12 years, and I was fine keeping it that way. I made sure to let Daniel know I did not come here to reminisce, that I was here to play poker and he was welcome to come hang out. He really didn't want to leave town even though MS was 10 miles away. He was extremely nice, and I didn't want to be rude, but I didn't want to waste any time trying to convince my old roommate that there was a world out there beyond those stone walls. He didn't even want to go to the old Dunkin Donuts on the edge of town for old time's sake, so I said an awkward goodbye and we packed our stuff up and headed to Mohegan Sun.

I had gone on Bravo and noticed there was not much action at MS so I just decided I would have to pass Mohegan on by and go back to Foxwoods again, which I was happy with - I was getting familiar with it and knew there was more action. There was both 2/5 PLO and 5/10 NL, and I wanted some revenge from the big loss at Pocono Downs. I wanted to beat the 5/10 games in the Northeast even if it were one session. There was one 5/10 game with a waiting list, and I called in ahead of time, but when I got there, it was still 5 deep and seemed locked down. I was going to get on a 2/5 game and as I said goodbye to Nicole to head to the slots I lit up a cigarette and looked at my phone went off - it was Josh. ****, I forgot it was Tuesday night, the first one since I had been here. I should have called beforehand to make sure all was set with Josh and Paulie.

"Hey man, we have a full table tonight. A lot of people are here." Good, the game should run all night with one table and a few on the waitlist, plus I knew more were coming that night. I was trying to figure out what Josh should rake in plus tips and make sure he is within 20% of that number. I made sure he had someone to cover him on breaks and that all was good with Paulie.

"Mike showed up here with Bookie." At this time, Bookie was still in the games, but was growing more reclusive and quiet. He wouldn't do anything without someone to ride along and was generally not the loudmouth degen that we came to know him as.

"Put Paulie on the phone." I hear Paulie talking in the background and he speaks up. "Are you alright with Mike being at the game? At this point I don't care if Mike wants to burn up other people's money, but he's not, lighting ours on fire."

"His money is good here, **** it, let him play." Paulie may have hated Mike as much as me, but he knew Mike would bring more players to the game because he was the best hero caller in the world.

We talk about a couple other things, and I hang up and go back into the poker room and get on a 2/5 table. I must have gotten on the table with everyone waiting for 5/10, because everyone was playing loose and big. I picked up 1010 in late position and am facing a raise to 35 and a call, and I make it 130 all day. Original raiser calls, someone about my age and seemed competent, and the caller folds. The flop was a nice K108 and I was thinking to myself how fast I could place my chips across the betting line. He led out for 150 and with a lot of his range he is either going to have TPTK or ace high with gutters and possibly FD - time to raisy-daisy. I made it 475 and before I can even let go of the stack he said something, an all in button goes in front of him and I put another chip in for a call. The board ran out K10883 and I flipped over my hand figuring I wouldn't slowroll, and he borderline slowrolls me with two red kings. Am I really going to run this bad at poker up here? I buy back in for 1k and it dwindles away in situations where your only move is to fold and go on to the next hand - getting check-raised with AK on a wet board out of position, etc. I racked up my last few hundred and cashed out an almost 2k loser. I found Nicole and told her I wanted to get back to my dad's place at a reasonable time, and she understood. We hit the road around 10pm and I decided to take a little slower route that meant I didn't have to take the interstate and enjoy the mountains of Western Mass and VT. It took me much longer than I originally thought, and at 1am, I am riding through North Adams, Massachusetts where Williams College is. Finally on the top of a small mountain pass I get another call - it's Josh again.

"Yo man, the game is kind of dying down, I need to let you know that Bookie went on the book and I thought he had the money to cover at the end of the night. He's going to pay me by Friday he says." To me, Bookie owing money = Mike owing money. Mike was broke and all his gambling money was through the bank of Bookie. I don't think Josh understood that Bookie was fairly insolvent as he still owed outstanding money to Paulie on a bunch of baseball overs he had caught last week for 7k. Paulie wanted the game to run so he knew if Bookie won then it was all coming to him. Maybe they were naive to the mind of a true degen. I threw my phone in the back of the car pissed and pulled over to take a piss. Just as I was walking back to the car, I saw a local cop pull to the side to check out what I was doing on the side of the road.

"How're you doing tonight?" The cop started his typical questioning to assess the situation. I'm sure he thought I was just some drunk idiot from out of town. I told him I was getting out of the car to try and get a phone signal, that I was roaming.

"Sir, have you been drinking? Do you go to school here?" I tried to figure out what his end game was - obviously at this time of night DUIs are most prevalent, but I thought about his second question. I told him my grandmother went to Williams College back in the day, that I was down almost 2k from playing at Foxwoods, and was going back to my dad's place and took the scenic route. I don't know if it was pity, or just realized that I wasn't drunk and this wasn't worth pursuing, but he told me to have a good night. I got back in the car and saw a "Welcome to Vermont" sign as I started a sharp incline into the first of many hills. I had an overwhelming sense of shame come over me after that stop in North Adams. My grandmother and grandfather had worked hard and raised five kids including my dad to make sure they had every opportunity. My dad in turn always offered me a free ride to pursue any education I wanted, and I repay him by telling him that I run an underground poker game. All the potential I felt I had was being thrown away from nights at the poker table, not making any sort of contribution to society. All of this was welling up in my head as I climbed the hills and took all the twisty roads through South Vermont.

After 15 or so minutes, I started feeling extremely dizzy coming down a mountain, like I had no ability to ground myself riding down the road. I felt like the car could just shoot off into outer space, that I couldn't get any depth perception, and my legs were freezing up. I could feel my heart pounding, I couldn't control my thought process, and I remember putting the car into neutral and letting it glide to a stop on the side of the road. We were still almost two hours away and I couldn't get a grip on myself. I was profusely sweating, and Nicole saw I was getting pretty pale. It was almost like I couldn't face my father, my family, because I had let them down by going down the road that I had chosen. It could have been the fact that I had nothing to eat since before we left to go to Foxwoods, chain smoking, caffeine, no xanax, vicodin, etc. but I was losing it. I thought about the day I dropped out of Conn College and the drive home and the embarrassment I felt, but had no explanation to give anyone. Had I really ****ed up 12 years of my life? Nicole was talking to me, and I could hear it, it seemed important, but I just couldn't take it in or catch a full sentence. My mind was in 10th gear and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. In a desperate attempt I begged Nicole to drive and I would shift, she had started learning and was not bad for a beginner. I got into the passenger seat and was exhausted, extremely depressed and disappointed in my own life. When we got back to my dad's, I hopped in the shower and felt like I was going to pass out, I couldn't keep my balance, and was able to get out and crawl into bed, feeling very defeated. I felt like 2003 was happening all over again.

What is your take on the whole 500k scam thing happening in Tampa/NVG right now?

The audio's not the greatest, but where else can you get a pun on grits? (If it doesn't show up on preview, it's The Muppets.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08fL3YBSKRE

Damn that's from my neck of the woods - and you handled that perfectly. You can tell you aren't from there anymore because most people in New England would be really hesitant to drive over an hour let alone from New London to Middlebury the slow way at 10pm. Huge adjustment I had to make after I moved out was how it was considered normal for people in other parts to drive 3 hours just to attend a concert or hit up a good party.

If you ever get pulled over in western mass be very clear to establish some kind of connection to the area and you're set - with so much traffic being out of towners coming in for bed and breakfasts, antiques and leaves it's a real good ole boys club when it comes to getting pulled over - not once have I ever been issued a ticket there despite growing up there, often up to no good and often pretty blatant about fact I had or was actively breaking the law. Never did anything stupid like drunk driving but a lot of speeding and clear weed smoking (with smoke still coming out of still lit blunt in ashtray) definitely given a pass.

I would say the situation up in Tampa is like a grenade to the poker world as well as some underground operations, though most people who work in the betting scene from my experience around here are too dumb to take a hint. I can say it has been well known in the Tampa community that this situation had happened, whether people want to admit it or not. There was no evidence put one way or another until Marc came out with pretty much indisputable evidence that he had been freerolled/scammed. Honestly, I see a lot of mid-high stakes players keep quiet about scamming until its too late. I can assure you this wasn't the first time people were taken advantage of, and this isn't going to be the last, either. There's probably two dozen bookies still operating around the Tampa Bay area that are just too naive to realize that this is serious.

I can say there are about 30-40 people who probably knew about most of the details before they came to light. Ultimately it is up to the people involved to do the right thing, which rarely happens around here. From my experience in that area, people rarely do the right thing when they get in over their head.

I wasn't raised here, you are right - I am not really from anywhere to be honest. I know that the rural areas of New England is a good ol boys situation, I wasn't ready to get thrown in jail for disorderly conduct. When a cop pulls you over in the country between midnight and 5am, your chances of getting ****ed go way up.

I have found that, here in Las Vegas, it is always +EV to tell the cop who stops you that you are going to/coming from a casino. Always this has resulted in a have-a-nice-evening. I figure a possible reason for this is that the casinos have great influence over the LVMPD. Possibly this may also be the case in the vicinity of FW/MS in Connecticut.

Pollo Tropical, Pork Roll (Also known as Taylor Ham to some old-timers) and BIG quotes...Best thread of all time?

The place where I would get the jalapeno dogs in my earlier chapters had a killer Taylor Ham as well, I just didn't wake up early enough to get it usually. Paulie was a huge fan of that stuff, it was like the only thing I ever saw him eat - his cholesterol was through the roof too.

Hah that's awesome ya boy Paulie digs Pork Roll. During the 30ish years I've been digging Pork Roll, I thought it was a tri state thing (PA,NJ,NY) which was reinforced when I stopped for bfast on a trip to SC, ordered a PR,egg and cheese on an everything bagel w/ wudder (badly hungover) not thinking twice.. girl looks at me like I'm an alien... No PR or Bagels.

Paulie from Philly? I have literally 30-40 friends who moved down there to 'recover' and never came back. Keep in touch A few and my goal is relocate to the Tample/Naples area.

Maybe I can find a juicy underground blackjack game where I can bring my own shoe (I swear I won't mark the **** out the edges), run like the sun and win 500dimez, then not get paid

TST- can you plz bless us with an installment. I've been a day one dong eater of your thread. PS, is the pill mill scene Fully dead or can you get p30s rather cheaply? So many connected guys went down there, opened clinics, and made bank for a few years til they clamped down on that. You mentioning your vike/xan scripts made me think of that.

My Google fu is weak and this intrigues me. Can you explain and/or link to a source of this sordid tale?

The thing is, there's plenty of BJ to be had - Seminole has casinos in Tampa, Immokalee, which is a dumpster fire on the edge of the Everglades, Brighton - not many people have heard of it, they got rid of their poker room last summer, and Hollywood, where the biggest poker tournaments are. I live about 2.5 hours south of Tampa now and 45 minutes West of Immokalee, along the coast. Poker is good in Naples though - not as good as Tampa, but the weather is better in the winter and less HS pros to scam you.

Paulie is from North Jersey, so he is in pork roll central. I have had many a pork roll in NY, it's popular in delis around here with a lot of NY/NJ snowbirds.

The pill scene is still around, but anything stronger than Percocet is relatively rare these days. I see a doctor once a month for an incident that happened about a year ago - I will throw it in the story as it gets to that time. I don't get anything stronger than Lortab and Soma, but I have gone on/off these meds multiple times with no ill effects. Ever since my motorcycle accident in October of 2006 I have had neck pain that rarely goes away. About 30s, you can probably get them for $25, but I never have taken them, I just see them offered at games in the past. That stuff is way too strong for me.

As far as a story, I am working on one, should be finished by late morning. It is a very vivid memory so I try to get all the details out that I can.

i havent heard about this what exactly happened

Not sure if this is a level, but there's a pretty big scandal in NVG that happened in an underground setting involving some Tampa pros/backers, HS blackjack, and lots of yayo........

LOTS OF YAYO.

Pawn Shop Shenanigans

Note: This story does happen concurrent to the time of the early days of the home games, but in my first chapters I ran through the first 6 months pretty fast. I am trying to write up some of the specifics of that time and incorporate it into the story timeline.

June, 2014

I had just finished up my degree with USF, I didn't bother going to graduation because at the point I had graduated I felt I had been jipped out of money - what the hell was I going to do with a bachelors in Sociology and Criminal Justice? I had 3/4 of a degree in International Relations and that would have been much more useful in the real world. Along with the twice a week poker game, playing 2-3 other nights, I would take a couple days a week at the pawn shop. In all reality, me being there was just to make sure all was going well and secure. Casey could handle the customers for everything except for guns and outdoor equipment, and I did the rest. For some reason, Casey's dad had opened this shop here 15 years ago but lived over an hour away, as did everyone else that worked there. If something was wrong, I was right down the street. If she was late to work, or the guy who worked the other days couldn't make it, I was right down the street. I was one of the few non-family members they trusted, and it worked well for me as I got deals on guns and any other good stuff that came in the shop 20% above cost.

By 2014, Casey's dad had been tired of the business and had put it in her name, but he would still show up and give her a hard time for getting bad deals, loaning out too much, etc. He was in all honesty a complete *******, but he didn't give a ****. He was born and raised in Miami, then moved to the West Coast, but not without some sick wild-west stories which included blowing down some Outlaws' doors and robbing them right out of their living room. Casey's uncle was just as much of a psycho, trying to run over DOT workers in Hialeah that pissed him off, and chasing down people who owed money with a self-made tomahawk he kept in his sleeve. The stories were good, but this pawn shop was no longer #1 in town. It just didn't get the business it used to and everyone wanted out - they were tired of the pawn grind.

One Monday I walked into work and Casey clearly hadn't taken her Adderall yet because she was rolling around on the ground playing with her German Shepard like a 10 year old child. The doors are open and if a customer walks in, it's not exactly professional. When I walked into work, I brought my FN Five-Seven that I carried in my holster as my car gun. It wasn't easy to carry inside as it was big and it could go through the walls easily into the next business. Next door, there was some wannabe yuppie spa place which had terrible management and they hated the fact there was a pawn shop next door. Even though she was a complete bitch, we always told her to come in, I'd give her a great deal on a gun.

One of my jobs was to make sure that there were loaded guns properly placed in all areas of the shop in case of a robbery. We had a Kimber .45 in the safe magnetically stuck to the top for a quick draw, a Glock 23 near the jewelry, and I had a Taurus Judge Public Defender and a Remington police riot shotgun loaded up in the gun area. The gun area faced the spa so I couldn't really have an AK at the ready and blow holes through the walls and possibly kill a spa customer. It all had to be shot or low caliber stuff. I double checked each and found one of them was just sitting there unloaded, one of the other guys that worked there didn't like carrying guns and I didn't understand why he even had a job here. The other kid was 19 years old, and though he was well versed in firearms, he couldn't legally carry a handgun for self-defense.

75 percent of our business was repeat customers who needed quick money and would come in with the same stuff, or new stuff they bought and 24 hours later realized they couldn't afford. They would attempt to make payments on their items and the interest would run the bill up and up to the point where the money was almost not worth it. I've seen people pay a total of 2k to get a 200 dollar pawned gun back, I honestly felt bad, but they knew those were the rules. We would of course get the occasional customer that became a repeat customer, and some of these types were usually pill and crackheads that would pawn all their belongings until there was nothing left.

The legend of the town at the time was a kid named Omar. His father had died around 2007, leaving him with around $500,000 in cash and a nice house by the water - nothing crazy, but enough to go buckwild with some guns if you wanted. He came to the shop as this goofy, geeky type in late 2008 saying he was going to start a healthy alternative lifestyle workshop. I had just moved back to Miami and become friends with Casey, and we were hanging out a lot after work, and this kid wanted to tag along. He was taking a very creepy line with us so we tried to be nice but told him it was just the two of us. He immediately got upset and told us that he thought we were his friends and that he was going to spend a lot of money at the shop. He was basically trying to buy friendship, and that really didn't make the situation any better. After a week or two, he must have unlocked some huge chunk of money in his account, because he came in and ordered 40 guns in our wholesale catalog and our showcase totaling something like 38k. He didn't buy the crap stuff - a Browning Hi-Power, the Five-Seven like I had, a high end Colt AR-15, Hungarian AK, Colt 1911 Government issue .45, SW model 29-2 (Dirty Harry gun), Nickel plated Desert Eagle with interchangeable calibers, and to top it off, he was buying a full auto AR receiver from Casey's dad for 9500. When I made the call into the ATF for a background check on a single gun sale, it usually took 2 minutes max. With Omar's purchases, it took over an hour sometimes, and a month later, after he had acquired just about all of these guns he had ordered, we got a visit from the ATF. Omar was Middle Eastern, so when someone with an Arabic last name buys 40 guns, red flags show up on the Feds' radar. They proceeded to to a voluntary check up at his house, and felt the situation was safe. About a year later, Omar had run out of his dad's money. He came back and pawned almost every gun he had bought from us at @40% of their original value, and that was being nice seeing as a lot of them were well used. He sold his house and actually rented it out from the new owner. He had a newfound love for snorting Roxys and would come into the pawn shop sweating like a pig in our cold store in the middle of winter when it wasn't that hot out. Casey's dad eventually told him to get out and to get a hold of himself, and Omar walked away in shame. A few months later, his body was found in his home, he put that Colt 1911 Govt issue right in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Man that was a nice gun.

This particular morning Casey was having a blast on Instagram and Pinterest. When there is no one in the shop, and nothing to pull out of default (when a pawn isn't picked up and can be sold after 60 days), it can get pretty boring. Casey would see things on those sites and would just have to have them, and would start to compulsively shop for overpriced clothes, furniture, you name it. By the time it showed up at the shop, she wouldn't want it anymore and her return rate was around 75%. Adderall was a hell of a drug. Sometimes I would give her Xanax to calm the **** down, and she would get very philosophical and she was much easier to be around. I looked back at the cameras and saw a familiar car pull up. A taller, skinny kid in a black t-shirt and jeans was walking away from a rugged looking silver Chevy Cobalt and we heard the door open and the beeper go off. In his hands was his beloved Xbox One, perfectly packaged, this had to be the 5th time in 2 months he had been here. He had pawned it for $250 originally with some games, then let the games go and bought the console back with help from a motherly figure who came in looking very pissed. We often get people who come in that want to check if their stolen items are here, but they don't want to file a police report because the criminal is actually their friend or relative. They want to blame us for offering them a place to sell their merchandise, but the problem really lies at home. Plus, we log everything into a database that the police as access to, so stolen items were often recovered.

He had approached Casey and seemed very eager to get another $250 loan for the console alone. The problem was when we opened it (after he told us everything was there), that there was no power cord, so we couldn't test it out. I looked up the serial number on the bottom and this wasn't the same console, so it was most likely another one he had stolen.

"Sorry man, this isn't the same one you brought in before. We can't even verify that this works. You don't even have the cord or games. Come back with the original one and we can make a deal."

"This IS the original one bro!" His pasty, oily face with pimples and sweat was a pretty telltale sign of opiate usage. He had been gradually been getting worse and worse looking, and he was pretty rough at this point.

"Listen man, we want your business. The serial number doesn't match our records. Come back with your Xbox and we'll give you $200 for the console." I was one step from just saying "get the **** out" but wanted to give him one more chance.

"$200! That's ****ing bull****. I'll go across the street and get the $250 no problem."

"You have a nice day now!" I tried to be a sarcastic ******* before I had to be a real *******. He took the box and made a quick 180 towards the door, slamming it shut. One of our cameras looks way out onto the main road and you can see across the street to the other shop, so I wanted to see what he was going to do, but he seemed to be on the phone so I just walked away back towards the gun area. About five minutes later, I hear the door open again, and it is him, with a knife in one hand and his other hand in a hoodie pocket he had apparently put on. I ran over to where I kept the shotgun.

"Casey, GET THE **** DOWN!" I saw she was totally oblivious that the dude was walking up to her with a knife and who knows what else. I was on the side of the shop and he hadn't noticed me until I yelled. He turned towards me and looked as I had already pointed the shotgun right at his chest. He was mumbling something incoherent and I had my finger on the trigger guard and the safety off. When he turned towards me the finger went right to the trigger. When you are taught gun safety and self-defense, one important thing that is often left out is the ability to use your gun when you need to. Many times someone carrying a gun can't come to the realization they may have to shoot another human being, the idea of taking someone's life is very serious and can haunt someone, justified or not. For me, I had come to the logical conclusion that anyone who comes at me with intent to harm or kill I would have no problem pulling the trigger.

"Don't ****ing move or I'll blow your head right THE **** OFF!" Everything was happening in slow motion and I was waiting for any motion from our unhappy customer. Casey was yelling on the ground below the cash register and was in a little bit of shell shock. I still needed her to help so I could make sure I could get to him while still having a gun trained on him. I told her to pick up the phone and call 911, and I saw an arm reach up for the phone and her on the phone. She wasn't even making any sense on the phone, she was just crying at this point. The cops respond fast to this area so I was hoping they would just get here and I wouldn't have to pull that trigger.

"GET on the ****ING ground and drop the knife, spread your arms out you PIECE of ****!" He actually listened to me, as ****ed up as he was, he didn't want to die that day. Within 90 seconds a squad car was in the parking lot and I heard the door beep open and a cop was there with a gun drawn. I put the shottie to the side and walked towards the middle of the shop where I could see better. The cop had his knee in the guy's back and was handcuffing him, digging his knee in with full force. It all happened so fast but it felt like 10 minutes. More cops pulled in, they found a stolen Glock and some Oxy 40s on him, and we had to give statements. Casey was in lala land as she had just taken some of my Xanax and was surprisingly not that shocked after it all hit her. I had to talk to about 7 cops and retell the story over and over, it is amazing how long it can take to describe 90 seconds of your life. When you have adrenaline running through every vessel in your body, it takes a while for the stuff to slow you down and bring you back to a normal state. They recommended us close up shop but at the time I didn't feel like going home, I was ready for another 8 hours. Casey was fully out of it after the police asked her if she needed any assistance, and was back to rolling around playing with her dog again right as the police were leaving.

The xanax must have worn off because an hour later she started having an anxiety attack and said she just wanted to close the shop, and I was fine with that as I was actually getting pretty tired. She asked to come back to my house for a bit and hang out, she was feeling a little bit panicky and didn't want to go back to her place. She lived right in town at the time and could have easily just driven home and gone to sleep or done whatever, but I guess she didn't want to be alone. We got a late lunch and ate it back at my house while watching Shooter, and Casey was the loudest and most annoying movie commentator of all time. After the movie, she didn't want to go home, and instead asked me if I had anything to drink. I really wasn't the type of person to keep beer/alcohol at the house, but I did have a bottle of nice scotch my mom had gotten me for Christmas. I asked her if she wanted some, fully expecting for her to say hell no, but she took me up on the offer. She took the bottle and a glass, and it was half full when I gave it to her, and an hour later, it was totally gone. She is 5'10, in good shape, and had the tolerance of a middle-aged alcoholic. I was in my room trying to get ready for an impromptu home game in the area and she asked me not to leave. Well I could bring her with me, she was actually pretty lucid, but that could end messy and I doubt she wanted to go. My roommate had come home by this point and I told him to watch her and gave him 10 bucks to buy beer, which he was elated to see. He barely had enough money to get a 4 pack of PBR tallboys, and now he could buy 12 more. I said that was his babysitting money, I expected some quality time to be spent with her.

Around 1am I came back home, opened the door to find both my roommate and Casey crawled up on respective couches and passed out snoring. There were at least 8-9 tallboys in front of him, and a couple in front of Casey. Jesus ****ing Christ, can't anyone handle their alcohol as grown adults? I remember mumbling this to myself as I went to my room, took a shower, then came back in to my room to find Casey under the covers in my bed. Now Casey and I had been friends for years, but there had been an incident where we had messed around a little bit, nothing too much, but I knew when she was drunk she tended to get exponentially more touchy feely. I knew she never wore underwear, so when I saw her jeans on the floor I knew this might be another one of those times. She was still awake, and the time that had passed had definitely sobered her up some. I tried to start things under the covers and she was definitely pushing back some on me. Unfortunately, that was the last thing I remembered, I completely crashed and had underestimated just how tired I was. I woke up in the morning and she was gone, I had no idea what had happened. I had to text her to know, I had to know if I missed out on something, somehow.

I got the response - "You passed out so I used your leg as my personal vibrator." She didn't seem disappointed.

A+

Let us know what happened to the dumb ass with the x-box

Had to create an account to tell you how dope this story is bro. I've read every single post now, and I can't wait to read more. Decided to quit lurking and tell you thanks for the entertainment.

Thanks DM, I really do appreciate all comments - as I have said before, it let's me know I am not firing out into the abyss. I am trying to keep speed on getting a new chapter out every couple days at least.

The guy ended up getting 3 years for the crimes including the stolen gun. If he had pulled out the gun to use it (and somehow lived), it would have been under Florida's 5-10-25 law and probably would have gotten 10 years minimum.

Brag - I ended up selling one of the cops on the scene that same Remington 870 for a good profit 2 months later. He like the fact it was used for defense in a crime. There are a lot of people out there that like to collect weapons that were used in crimes, particularly famous crimes. I guess he was just getting started.

Guides in Alaska use 12 ga. shotguns loaded with slugs to fend off attacking wounded grizzlies.

Best close range self defense weapon out there, and cheap too!

Jack Ruby's 38 went for $220k

http://www.nytimes.com/1991/12/27/ny...questions.html