Suitedjustice's Ongoing Mid-life Crisis

Gets even worse when you talk about 50s music. Jerry Lee Lewis married his cousins 13 year old daughter.

Or even worse Chucky Lee Byrd

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=T9awpv5BnS...

I couldn't figure that out. At one time I could write ****, but couldn't write bullshit. now it's reversed.

A fun hypothesis would be that broken h (one word) is the screename of a poster the mods hated so much that they banned them, cleaned their posts and performed damnatio memoriae on their name.

well that is research i just ain't gunna check bosses
please remind me where we keep the someone else signs off on the liability template

Congrats on the 17 months. There is no shame in talking to someone about your urge to pick up the bottle again. In fact, I believe it is even +EV. Whatever you decide, youcandoit.jpg.

I could go over to About the Forums and ask, but sometimes I prefer to hold on to a fun hypothesis instead of learning the truth, as long as I don't mix up the former with the latter, which is the beginning of so many of humanity's problems.

Thanks, Sheep! I'm doing fine, currently, and current is all I can be. We live in the present, but we can still feel the weight of the past, and those 17 months have become a big, tangible thing, and I'm not ready to dismiss them just yet.

Hey SJ as far going back to drinking even the one off celebration. Think about why you stopped in the first place. Can you really just drink once and then stop for several months? There’s a reason why it’s generally one drip with alcoholics.

sj do you feel like you're in much better shape now from all those extra calories you're no longer inbibing

have you been putting this newfound power to good use and sending thirst traps to helen and gambelina?

Thanks for the cautionary words Da_Nit. I'm not the type who has one drink and loses control. What would happen if I went back is that I would maintain a moderate drinking regimen for weeks or months, but I would also very slowly and almost imperceptibly slide down the slope of increase until a point, months from now, when I found myself drinking a 1.75L handle of whiskey every 2 days.

That kind of steady, everyday drinking has killed two relatives of mine in recent years: one in his early 50s, and the other in his late 30s.

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Having been left out in the cruel elements for the last 20 years, my Jeep's headlight cover lenses had turned almost opaque with road grime, turning my low beam action into pretty weak sauce. I tried various cleaners and solutions, and none of them, and no amount of elbow grease, ever cleared away a single particle of dirt. I concluded that the dirt must be on the inside of the lenses.

My elderly dad saw some snake oil headlight cleaning preparation either on his Facebook or on an informercial, and he bought it. I felt bad because he's at the age where people regularly fall for that stuff.

He brought the stuff up to my old office last week, where I was filling in for a day, and he wanted to try it out on the Jeep's headlights. Reflexively, I made my doubts clear, as well as my hypothesis that the grime was on the inside of the lenses, where we couldn't reach it, but I relented and let him try it because I'm not an *******, most of the time.

My headlight cover lenses are now as clear as Lake Tahoe was when Mark Twain first marveled over it, and my nighttime commutes to and from the casino on unlit back roads have become much easier. The old man did good, and he got to show up his know-it-all son as well.

That is a lovely little story. ♥

Well, give us the brand so we can fix up our beaters too!

I told him that I was bragging about him on the Internet ♥♥♥

I don't mind shilling for those guys; they have a good product.

omg i need that

Holy cow, i hope there's a special place in heaven for both your dad and the people who invented that stuff. I'm prolly older than your dad and when I'm not shaking my fist at clouds, I'm wondering how they can screw up something as simple as headlights.

That’s insane I thought you changed out the headlights, not that you simply cleaned them.

Imagine being Bob Dylan's son, starting your musical career with a big hit, but then having it be your only one.

i’ve always considered myself the artistic un-adopted son of our modern day linguistic genius

The stuff is industrial grade. It will stain your driveway, maybe permanently. I shudder to think what it does once it hits the groundwater. Fortunately it's only a couple of ounces (a few dozen mL) per application.

I don't know my lineage, but that leaves me free to make something up.

Ladies Night

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Late Friday/early Saturday found me at the MGM finishing up with checking a long line of slot machines when a pretty, well-dressed woman in her 20s sat down at the beginning of the line and started checking machines that I'd already scooped.

This particular brand of machine requires the grinder to insert money in order to properly check the machine for +EV spots, so a quick look at the "paid out" figures on the machines I'd already checked would garner figures like the ones below:

$100.15, $100.15, $103.95, $99.55, $99.55, $99.55, $89.25, $111.65, $123.55 and so forth.

An unchecked line of machines would have these sorts of figures in the paid out window:

$0.00, $1095.67, $0.15, $22.00, $40.19, $0.00, $3020.11, $1.15, $10.00 and so forth.

This is because most of the machines don't have any plays, so I'll cash out on those duds for the same amount that I inserted with my ticket, and I'll use the same ticket across the line of machines. Other grinders use this same process.

The plays that I do find on this particular brand of slot are low variance, so the numbers don't bump up and down much when I do find a play. Somewhat rarely, I'll win or lose a few hundo and go from $123.55 to say $445.20, but then the next machine in line after the score will likely read something like $445.20 as well, then $440.00, and so forth.

This is a quick way to check if you've been scooped by a slot grinder who arrived earlier than you. Of course, normal players will sit down in between the earlier grinder and you and screw up that pattern, but that doesn't happen as often in the wee hours of the morning.

Back to the young woman grinder: she did not notice the paid out pattern, and she assiduously checked every machine in the line where I'd already been, and whiffed and whiffed and whiffed on plays. I sat there and watched, admiring her persistence, and wondering if and when she would figure things out. She did not.

I could have slid over at any time and offered some paternal advice (aka mansplained things), but I did not.

On late Saturday/early Sunday, I found that I had been scooped on most of the Ultimate X machines by a pretty, much more casually dressed woman in her 30s. I quickly deduced which machines she hadn't checked yet, and jumped ahead of her, and salvaged a few plays.

The woman recognized me as another X grinder and spoke to me, but I didn't quite hear what she said. She might have been trying to tell me that she'd already checked everything in that section, which would have been a lie.

I ignored her, and went on with checking machines.

The thing about this woman was that she has a button-pressing technique that is much faster than mine. There's a one second lag on some of the X machines when the HUD returns to the main screen. Somehow, she's found a button pattern that circumvents the lag.

I tried to spy on her but (1) I couldn't follow her flying fingers; I've never been good at scoping out fast events, that's why I don't like hockey...can't follow the puck, and (2) Every time I tried to spy for any length of time, the woman sensed my gaze and stopped checking until I stopped looking, and she won the patience game every time.

If I can suss out that technique, it will make my days a lot easier.

sounds like two missed opportunities to network, learn to mash buttons better, and find some sweet lovin

for real, you so rarely see a pretty woman in the casino that you gotta jump on that

It's Book Day. Here's the new haul:

I've been avoiding Cujo for decades because King mentioned in his On Writing that he was so drunk and coked up that he doesn't remember writing the book.

It's time for me to let that go; I found a lot of writing fodder in recounting my meth and booze et al. days, so who am I to judge?

When I finish Cujo, I'll have read everything in print by him, except for the latest two: Holly and Never Flinch, which will be the sixth and seventh books in recent years featuring Holly Gibney as a character.

Sigh. I don't dislike Holly; she's cool, and nuanced and fully realized, I've just had my fill of her for now. I will read the latest two books, eventually, but I'll wait until they're in paperback.