Best Baseball Betting Lines - MLB Odds 2020

NFL & NBA Updated Schedules and Degenerate Gambler DD

Edit: I'm a POS forgot about MLB. Season starts July 23. Added link and info in schedule below.
📉
Was posting this in the "what your moves tomorrow" thread but I got carried away. So figure post my Bullshit here.
The moves I am planning to make and the conjecture I am erroneously calling DD are detailed below.
All focused around the sport book services, online casinos etc for next couple days and weeks.
DKNG - GAN - BETZ - IGT - MGM - SGMS - PDYPY etc etc
Dates for NFL / NBA / MLB season opening and schedule info below
😃
Like every dumbass who thinks they sound insightful loves to say, "Americans are starved for entertainment and sports."
Another obvious thing everyone here knows based on the fanatical participation in this glory hole of a sub:
Americans are going through gambling addiction withdrawal.
They need to get right.
Well the fix they need is practically here.
⛹️
NBA
Tomorrow July 8:
All NBA teams will be checked into their Mickey and Minnie hotels and prowling the on-site facilities (aka the Orlando Covid Bubble) acting like the responsible gentleman that they are. I wonder if ladies of the night are on their way there now, or if they are already there incognito in Donald and Goofy costumes.
This means no more uncertainty. American sports will be back on the media radar.
News spots, YouTube assholes, woke social media posts, all will have NBA content.
DKNG and other gambling and fantasy platforms are going to start advertising hard.
DKNG promos will be on every PJ trader's/boomer's favorite cable news shows.
Daily fantasy targeted ads will be on your Reddit feed and on your wife's boyfriend's Instagram.
This will be the first time since their IPO in April that they will be pumping ads for biz so hard.
Crazy visibility.
You know who else is gonna talk about the NBA, MLB, and NFL starting???
🇺🇸 Trump
plus
Everyone on CNBC - Jim Cramer morning and afternoon - Faber - LeBeau - Kernen - Kernen's co host babe - The young dork who pisses Kernen off every morning
They will be falling all over themselves to show us that they are cool sport guys.
And that they know about cool sport guy gambling companies.
These tickers are gonna get alot of free stonk news airtime.
🚀
1.5 Weeks from now
July 22:
NBA scrimmages start
NBA beer virus scrimmage schedule
Major ad buys for NBA fantasy and betting will start the week before the scrimmages and run through until the season starts.
⚾⚾⚾
July 23: MLB regular season starts
MLB beer virus season schedule
⚾⚾⚾
2.5 weeks from now
July 30:
NBA Season Starts NBA beer virus schedule
This leads right to the main event for all degenerate gamblers and fantasy players
🏈🏈🏈🏈🏈 NFL SEASON 🏈🏈🏈🏈🏈
3.5 weeks from now
August 11
NFL 53 man roster cut date
The NFL preseason is cancelled
That is actually good for fantasy football, don't have to worry about injuries as much so can draft as early as you want.
So fantasy will be going full force, and DKNG will keep hitting us with the ads.
Three weeks of drafts and talking heads pumping NFL.
7.5 weeks from now
September 10
First NFL game
🙏🙏🙏
👍🏿 🍆💦
Conclusion:
Im going all in tomorrow, Thursday and Friday.
I cashed out all my calls and positions mid morning today. I am going to try my best to not drop all $ in one session.
Big picture - my moves:
Calls:
GAN, IGT, MGM, SGMS, PDYPY
Tomorrow through early next week will pickup an irresponsible amount of Calls exp 8/21 and 11/20
Gay Stock purchases:
DKNG
I am going to buy a Honda Civics worth of DKNG stock over next two - three days
Why not calls? Well I am not sure when it's going to leap and volatility is high.
DKNG was at $43.75 on June 22.
Down 30% since then.
$30 now.
Its going to blow by $50 and to $70 and maybe more by the time we are at the start of the week 2 of the NFL season (September 17).
BETZ
I will periodically throw money at BETZ tomorrow through the end of July.
Will use it to stop myself from impulse buying something stupid like HTZ or NKLA calls or TSLA puts.
I dunno why but the BETZ ticker just seems kinda gay to me.
Note: To clarify the above. I am a tard. Smart for a tard, but still a tard.
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Let’s Not Be a Drama Queen About This: Recap of Before the 90 Days S04E07

Welcome to another recap of Before the 90 Days: The Season Where No One is Dating. First off, if you’re watching Geoffrey’s segment, your safe word is “orange”. If that doesn’t work, please lock yourself in a panic room and wait there until the Avengers arrive. If you hear one voice say, “No really, this is totally the Avengers” do not open the door. Or maybe just social-distance yourself from this whole fucking storyline, because we should not be observing this human stain.
Let’s turn our attention to prisoner of war Usman, busy filming a real life version of Get Out. You know it’s bad when the con artist seeking green card access to bolster a floundering hip hop career is the protagonist. I haven’t felt this awkward since last season of Vanderpump Rules when I was forced to defend James Kennedy. Anyway, Baby-Girl Lisa still hasn’t successfully harvested his essence to maintain control over the Dark Crystal, and Usman threatens to throw a wrench into her plans with a daring escape in the trunk of his friend’s car. Then he realizes he left his phone in the hotel room, and it’s got the lyrics to “Dabbing” on it, so he’s forced to return, to face Lisa losing the mind she never had.
She declares that he’s been absent for 30 minutes and she’s upset …which would have also been the case if he were gone for five minutes, or not at all, or if he went to the bathroom unsupervised, or put on his right shoe before his left one, or stood up too quickly or not fast enough. This time, Lisa’s argument is that she was “scared’ to be left alone (with producers in a hotel room). Annoyed with this never-ending wheel of complaint, Usman declares that he can’t win with her. Then BGL cuts him down with “Let’s not be a drama queen about this.” That’s right kids, all aboard the Gaslight Express, where the person reacting to the drama is the drama queen — not the person perpetually creating it. Would someone please take this man’s photo so he can restore his spirit to his body with the flash? GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!
She continues to stitch a verbal quilt of grievances, while noting how irrelevant Usman’s points are, and looking like she’s ready to start filming her episode of Intervention. Usman slowly realizes that Lisa is unlikely to have an adult conversation with his mother, let alone a respectful one, and he may not be able to salvage his Nigerian hip hop career, let alone forge one in the US of A. He goes outside and admits to the producers that he may have reached his breaking point, and would like to know if they have some kind of relocation program. This is not what Lisa expects from a prisoner, and she informs the producers that “the man who left here is not the man I abducted.”
Usman returns at 2AM to sit in an adjacent room and not talk to Lisa, making half of his wildest dreams come true. He lights up a hookah and considers how he has this “wonderful opportunity” to go to the states, and it might be too much to pretend to like Lisa long enough to get a green card. The producers ask him how he’s doing, and he says that anything he does is not enough, and before he can answer further BGL groans her way into the room.
“Nobody’s perfect. You need to make up your mind and make it up quick,” She declares, because that makes sense. He attempts to confront her, and states that he’s always respected her, and she insults him. And if it’s this bad in Nigeria, what’s it going to be like when she submerges him in preservative gel in the United States? “You’re very insecure about this relationship,” Lisa mumbles.
Usman says that yes, he is, that’s the truth. Then Lisa unfurls her scroll of half-assed excuses, including that the whole trip has been stressful, that there’s a five hour time difference, that she’s in this hotel room that bests the average Idaho haunt but is beneath her, and it’s a day of the week that ends in y, and he should know how she feels about that. Then she says she wants to “close it up” which is the closest Usman is going to get to an apology. For whatever reason, Usman decides that this will do, and later Lisa expresses concerns about returning to the US alone, and declares “ it will destroy both of us.” By this she means she’ll be forced to rework the plot into something that ends with her saucy finger, and will leak the unedited version of Usman’s “I Love You” video, because that’ll teach him.
Speaking of horror movies, let’s stop by Silence of the Lambs to visit Creepy Ed, who puts the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again. Rose has made the unfortunate mistake of returning to their shared hotel room, where he hands her a robe and tells her to take a bath, then forces champagne on her, and says he’s going to rub her feet. Note that he didn’t ask her if she was interested in any of these things. Ed considers this “showing how romantic he can be” while the rest of us call this “reasons to run out of the room with your shoes in your hand the minute he goes to the bathroom.” As she gets comfortable because he told her to, Big Nightmare declares he’s “staring at her feet and not her pajamas,” and I’m staring into the deep black abyss, hunting for a portal to escape this. Friends, this is it: the Most Cringe Scene in 90DF History. There’s not even any competition. This is the Citizen Kane of cringe.
“It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever its told,” Ed declares, with “Goodbye Horses” softly playing in the background.
“Please let me out,” Rose cries.
Since Rose is recoiling in a manner obvious to anyone who isn’t an incel, Ed seizes the opportunity to ask her for a kiss. She says on her cheek or the end of her fist after a wind up, whatever he prefers. He asks for “the middle” which she assumes means the forehead. He kisses her on the cheek, and then brow beats her into kissing him on the mouth. She gets it over with as quickly as possible, and Ed declares that it was “nice” and Jesus Christ, someone put a collar on this beast.
“Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me,” Ed explains (“Goodbye horses, I’m flying over you…”.)
“Is this called coercion in United States?” Rose asks.
“It puts the lotion in the fucking basket!”
The next morning it appears Rose has finally succumbed to his ridiculous advances, and seems cool with it. She declares a hatred for his under-the-bridge beard, and Ed notes that she has hairy legs, which he finds “gross,”and asks her to shave them to best match his blow-up doll ideal. This is rich coming from someone with a greasy mop of Clairol for Mayo dangling in his face. Soon I’ll kick off a GoFundMe to buy Rose a full-body merkin to insulate her lady flesh from Ed’s Rumpelstiltskin mitts. For now, she goes in for the shave and Ed ditches the beard, and I long for the Wookie days of yore.
Later he heads to Rose’s house to act like a goon around a larger audience. He takes a three hour cab ride to her village, where he is shocked to discover that the Philippines is like the Philippines. First he meets Rose’s son Prince, who initially seems confused, and then declares “daddy!” And embraces him. Big Ed isn’t sure how he feels about being a father again at 54, but he’s totally okay with dating a child. Ed is also uneasy about meeting Rose’s sister Maria, because she hit up Ed for cash. Once Maria meets Ed, she realizes she should have asked for more.
The family is waiting with a little surprise party, and Ed meets Rose’s other two sisters and a brother-in-law. When they ask what he thinks, he wants to know where the windows are, and if he should worry about getting rabies from wayward bats or cockroaches, because he’s heard both things are attracted to the scent of canola oil. Seriously: why can’t anyone on this show make a polite comment to the family except Angela? How hard is it to say, “Well I bet you have a great view of the stars!”
Rose’s family has a nice set of dishes arranged for dinner, including fish, chicken, rice, and the silky gravy of Ed’s back sweat. He asks for something to drink, while they marvel at the river running down his face, and we learn her father is running late because he’s busy at the pig farm, which also sounds suspiciously poor to Ed. When Father arrives he’s quiet, contemplating that his daughter is hoping to marry someone older than himself, who is pushing his food around his plate, and calling a chicken like a dog to feed it from the table. Rose’s father wants to know if Ed knows the difference between dinner and a dog, and then asks what Ed’s intentions are, other than getting on his damn nerves. Ed declares, “I want to get to know your daughter, no games.” Sure, Prince is already calling him “daddy,” but wouldn’t want to create strange expectations by suggesting marriage post-coitus, amirite?
Ed declares that now that he’s seen the depth of their poverty, he worries that he’s just a meal ticket to Rose, and not the man of her dreams, even though he’s after Rose for specific things himself. I mean, a lot of 19 year old women are just jonesing for a controlling, anxiety-riddled man who hasn’t had sex in 28 years to fulfill their hobbit kink, so he has a right to be choosey. It’s important for her to love him like Rose loved Jack in the Titanic, even if Ed can’t draw anything and would demand to be the only body on that floating door, and she’s the only person to consider him king of any world.
Meanwhile, Tom continues his crusade to come off as a sympathetic character by making sad eyes from his good angle for the camera. As he pieces together one of his predictably boring outfits, he says he hopes they can have a conversation and attack the problem and not the person, but admits that he doesn’t care about attacking the person if the person is Darcey and not himself.
He situates himself to await her arrival, while Darcey enters the joint with a Beyoncé track in her head, and dumps her 16 changes of clothing on an unsuspecting hostess who has questions. Then she struts. Her. Shit. This is officially the first time Darcey has donned an outfit that isn’t from her signature Midlife Crisis line, and that jumpsuit is the fuck-you jam, and I want it for my next dramatic public fight with a future ex. She greets him as “Thomas” and passes on the affectionate greeting in favor of a handshake, before settling in for some gold medal passive aggression.
Tom: I’m nervous. Because I’m full of shit.
Darcey: No need. It’s just me. That’s called constipation, Tom.
Tom: How was Malta? If I had talked to you sometime in the last six weeks, I might know the answer to this question.
Darcey: It was nice to spend it with Stace. Thank you for the birthday…text. You said you were going to call or video call, I waited that whole day…but it’s okay. I know you’re a dick.
Tom: What actually happened to us? I’m going to act like what happened isn’t me going balls deep in another chick and bragging about it on instagram.
Darcey: I don’t know, but you must not know about me, you must not know about me. Should I say it twice? That’s kinda weird. It sounded better in my head.
Hannibal Lector: Cut him on the bias, Clarice. Serve him with a nice Chianti.
Tom goes on to say that she “was” this lovely woman, but has very specific things she wants, and she’s really not there for him, because she’s preoccupied with selecting the right filters for her twirling face-angle shots on instagram. He insists that Darcey never lets him talk during the conversations they don’t have, while a waiter with bad timing regrets his water glass decisions, and knows his tip is going to be bullshit. Darcey’s not having it, and knows he’s rerouting the events of the last six months to be about her doing something wrong, so she wants to know what his secret is, and talks to him in a soothing voice that is WAY more terrifying than mad Darcey.
“What do you want to hear?” Tom asks, because he’s still determined to make this about how out of control and unreasonable Darcey is, what with her fancy wanting interaction and silly expectations that he wouldn’t start another relationship before breaking it off with her.
“Tell her she’s insecure,” Baby Girl Lisa advises.
Darcey says she knows about the other woman he’s been posing with in stilted thigh-grab photographs, and Tom says that he met this person three weeks ago, and her name is Shannon, and he was hoping to get some exit sex. Since that doesn’t seem to be working out, he goes with, “I met someone who loves me the way I want to be loved. In three weeks.” Then what the fuck are you doing there, dude? He says, “You had everything of me in your hands, and you didn’t see it. And it was hard to listen to the Jesse thing all the time, when I was busy thinking about other people I planned to bang.” Since this isn’t already ridiculous enough, he says he’s not her notion of love, and that he loves her like a sister he wants to have sex with. Darcey thinks about what this means for her and Stacey, while Tom says he wants to be her friend.
Darcey nixes that bullshit, and says she doesn’t want to be friends. Then Tom tells her to “try not to ruin the next” relationship, and it’s easier to get through this scene if you imagine Tom has a diseased ballsack for a chin, which isn’t far off. He lets Darcey pay for his coffee, and continues throwing his Chex Mix on the floor by saying it’s a weight off of him, and when Darcey tells him to enjoy his life, he responds, “I will now that you’re not in it.” That twice a year interaction was really bringing him down before.
Tom tells the producers that he showed up to see if anything was still there, and because he wanted to be on camera one more time, and because he wanted to have sex with Darcey’s smother-titties before returning to the safety of Shannon’s thigh. Darcey is over this shit, and is ready to watch the baseball bat video with Beyoncé is a yellow dress, breaking stuff.
It’s time to revisit the platonic romantic relationship of Erika and Stephanie. As she stated last week, Stephanie is “waiting” to have sex until she’s actually bisexual, so Erika should start checking out social-distancing hers and hers nursing homes right now. Erika got to know Stephanie as someone with a risqué, fun, and sexual online persona, and she incorrectly assumed that Stephanie would clue her in if her real self didn’t match that presentation. With this in mind, Erika is certain Steph will love her big date surprise: a little artsy neon-lit joint where the last Rockabilly chick in an updo coaches women through the wet wrap construction of boob molds! Is this a thing so one day they can look back fondly on the time their tits weren’t smacking against their knees, or to create a decorative dinner mint container? I want to surprise a friend who will hate me afterwards with this, or arrive with just my cat and wide eyes and my own set of decorative paints. Or maybe I will wake up my partner tomorrow by hovering over him with a jar of plaster while whispering, “it’s time to preserve me.”
Stephanie doesn’t like this because she is wrong, and this is her first time seeing her own breasts outside of the internet. So she sits there awkwardly while everyone has their guns out for a showdown at the double-d corral, wondering why the fuck Erika didn’t see fit to, you know, ask if she wanted to have her tits in the air. All snark aside, I’m siding with Stephanie on this one. Choosing to explore the wonders of titty molds is one thing; arriving at a surprise titty shakedown is another, especially when this doubles as the debut fondling experiment. Something tells me Erika was hoping this would lead to The Sex. This is very Ed of you, Erika. But your fried egg overalls are still amazing.
Anyway, Stephanie decides to play along, and shakes the boxes of medication out of her bra to brace for breast spackle. The other titty sisters preserving their boobage opt to engage, which they will soon regret, and they ask about their relationship, and whether one of them intends to relocate to keep their romance warm. Stephanie, who is pissed off enough that she’s looking for anything to inspire grenade lobbing at Erika, says that she doesn’t think it will last very long if they’re not in the same place. Erika reminds her that she’s a photographer, and already has weddings booked that she needs to complete before moving to another country. Plus, she hears there’s a great plague coming that will leave us all under house arrest indefinitely. Also: it’s day 2. Maybe slow down on a borderline ultimatum. Erika then expresses confusion that on one hand Stephanie is very eager for their relationship to be set in stone, and on the other doesn’t want to have sex with her when they’re working with a tight three-week timeline.
“Is this coercion?” Rosemarie asks.
“Sort of,” Erika reluctantly admits. “I’m hoping it won’t count because I’m bisexual.”
“Still creepy though, and I KNOW creepy,” Ed is there with the confirmation.
Later on they ready themselves for a date, which is really a set-up so Stephanie can interrogate Erika about having a dating app on her phone. Other people would, you know, ask about the app the minute it was spotted, but the cameras weren’t there and this storyline needs Stephanie’s extensions.
Stephanie kicks things off by stating her intentions to take Erika to a nice dinner, and gives Erika a cute tiara headband thing to wear on their date. Once they’ve settled into their table and the thought of romance has dared to enter Erika’s head, Stephanie brings up the “boobie papier mache” and thinks a lot of people get the wrong impression of her, based on what she’s shown and told them. Then Steph demands to know what’s up with the app, and if Erika’s dated anyone else in the four months they’ve been thousands of miles apart. Erika says that she hasn’t and isn’t, but keeps it going for the networking side of things, and by networking she means dicks and vaginas under glass, which are useful in event of emergency.
Stephanie asks if she’d be open to deleting it, so Erika does it, but is annoyed that Stephanie doesn’t trust her and this action is required, and she hasn’t even had any swindle cake yet. Stephanie says the app just makes her uncomfortable, to which an exasperated Erika declares, “Everything makes you uncomfortable!” She says that Steph sold herself as free spirited and then arrived operating with the assumption that presents grant her the right to control her. 87% of the 90DF cast is miffed by this suggestion, and so is Stephanie. Erika takes off Stephanie’s tiara mind control device and storms off, and we get a good look at the extension cords and a sad drain on the floor when they chase after Erika while Stephanie fake cries at the table.
For some reason the producers are still entertaining the Yolanda story, which features her unwavering commitment to displaying total ignorance of British accents, despite the ability to pull up a two minute video on Youtube that would clarify this madness. Yolanda’s daughter notes that Williams appears to have a Nigerian name, address, phone number, accent, and passport, and the caps lock text he sent her reading, “HI I’M NIGERIAN” is a little suspicious. Yolanda is flummoxed, because he lives in Manchester and looks like an underwear model, and why would anyone lie about that? No one is this stupid. Stop it, 90DF. This makes Nicole’s insistence that Azan isn’t already married look convincing. Are there no actual relationships in the queue?
Later, she spends a few days trying to get a hold of him, before she receives an email threatening to release nudes she sent Williams if she doesn’t send money. Kinda like the money Williams asked her to send so he could travel to Vegas. Yolanda thinks this might be part of a rogue hacking operation, scouring the internet for instagram accounts to delete. She needs him to be real so desperately, and I’d feel sorry for her if this wasn’t already outed as an act, and I suspect she made up the email address herself and sent the threat to stretch out her screen time. Have we seen any relationship with Williams up until this point? Other than a string of heart emojis?
Finally, we’ve got Avery and Ash. They’re prepping for a three day trip to the other side of Australia, which Avery doesn’t see as a vacation, because she’s here to get answers about Ash, and you can’t possibly learn about someone by whether or not you’re capable of having fun with them.
“I have an opinion about this,” Erika interjects.
Avery is suspicious because of the shady behavior of Ash’s brother, who at dinner didn’t seem to support Ash’s statement about how easy it would be to take his child away from his mother to live in another country, permanently. Determined to not fall into the dicksand, Avery intends to confront him. They drive down into the country and Avery marvels at the beauty, before they stop in a pretty spot to have a picnic with Ash’s flower shop commitments on full display.
Ash: Yes, I am hearing you, and I am seeing you, and I think it’s good that you have words.
Avery: You’re giving me a rehearsed response. I think you’re sugarcoating the complexities of bringing Taj to America with you. Your brother didn’t seem convinced this would be as easy as you said.
Ash: This is communication, and it is open and honest and from a heart-centered place. I am confident that we can reach a positive outcome in these endeavors, if we continue to co-exist on this plane.
Avery: For fuck’s sake, I get that you’re trying to be positive, but living on planet earth means we’ve got to shovel some shit every once in awhile. Give me a truth bomb.
Ash: I’m afraid the complexity of this will cause you to bail, since you’ve previously dumped my ass. Also, here is some more jargon to plow over that rare moment of honesty, and to speed past the notion of what my ex-wife might have actually said about all this.
Avery: I need to talk to your ex-wife.
Ash: Oh damn.
Next week, Ed is shocked to learn that he’ll be sharing a room with another 54 year-old when he flew in for 19, David walks around Ukraine yelling Lana’s name and putting up missing-person posters, Ash is afraid of his ex-wife talking in plain English to Avery, and Erika is slowly wilting in the face of Stephanie’s highly developed control issues that already dominate their sexless union. Oh, and Darcey is flummoxed as to why Tom had to see her in person to humiliate her on TV, but she’s glad she got to wear that sick outfit, and for fuck’s sake will someone who actually wants to be in an instagram relationship hit her up and work out a hashtag with her already? Fuck!
Thank you, Patreon supporters, my lovely quarantine companions!
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I'mma head out

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withdraw within without witness woman wonder wonderful wood wooden word work worker working works workshop world worried worry worth would wound wrap write writer writing wrong yard yeah year yell yellow yes yesterday yet yield you young your yours yourself youth zone
submitted by TastyUdders to OneWordBan [link] [comments]

Down With Touts

Have seen many posts over the years asking for tout or strategy recommendations (most recent was cherrypicking from touts’ picks of the day). Finally felt compelled to speak up.
I can’t stress this enough: never pay for picks.
My bona fides: I’ve a) co-founded Google’s #1 fantasy sports book game b) have been researching sports betting syndicates for over a year now for a tv show c) worked in pro gambling (TVG/Betfair).
I can tell you there are only about 20 syndicates in the country that make money long term against the bookies. Some are former Wall Street traders, others MIT AI PHDs, others pro statisticians.
To a man, they approach it with the intellectual rigor as if they were running sports hedge funds. Anybody you see posting their picks is either in it for the internet shine (fine) or to hoodwink squares into buying a package (despise this, tarnished our growing industry).
Haralabos Voukgaris is arguably the best NBA bettor in the world and he wins only 57% of his bets. The reason it works? 52.4% is break even after the sports book takes their vigorish. After that, your win rate compounds. According to veteran gambler Steve Fezzik, if you started with $1k, only bet 10% of your bankroll, and won 60% of your bets you’d be a billionaire in 5 years. That’s why compound interest is referred to as the “8th wonder of the world.”
Now ask yourself - how many sports gambling billionaires do you see out there? The only ones I know of were the founders of online sports books, not baseball cap wearing jabroskis (me) selling picks online (not me). Don’t eat into your bankroll (all money is bankroll for your life) by paying somebody to lose (long term) for you.
TL;DR If touts really won at the rates they claim, they would be a) millionaires at very least b) ruining their winning edge by giving away/selling their picks. Bet smart and have fun!
submitted by azzabazazz to sportsbook [link] [comments]

Jon-Chan and the Summit of Mount Dewnali: Fellowship of the Dew

Hey Moonhorse, Sango, and the Celestial herd.
I brought a tale, a fanfiction of many words.
I have cometh and I delivereth a tale of neckbeardia. A tale of Jon-Chan and his fellowship of the Dew.
Brace thyselves, i have wrote a long story, who knew.
So grab some popcorn, some water and wine.
Get comfortable and enjoy a tale of mine.

"Do you really think he is the one?" A squeaky rat-like voice snarled
"Ah yes! Most certainly" replied a deeper toned man. "Whilst the young man has never unsheathed his blade, I believe this gentleman's determination in the battle sims is a testament to his unwavering strength!
The two men-children were observing a a pudgy young man in his mid 20's, sitting on a wooden chair playing an online match of Halo on his Alien-ware laptop, dying repeatedly to a highly skilled player with a sniper rifle. The mans neck is draped with a brown, Cheetos stained beard that stretches down to his collar bone and is equipped with a red baseball cap with white letters saying 'Make Hentai Hot Again'. After being domed in the head for the 6th time in a row, he throws a hissy fit and lets out a mighty REEE.
All of his features and actions are being observed by the two gentlesirs behind a one way sheet of glass.
"After, all he is CWC-born."
"The last CWC-born couldn't even defend our nations against Chad!"
"Perhaps, but if it wasn't for her actions, you and I wouldn't be standing here discussing her as we speak"
There was a moment of considering what the deeper voiced man said "Fine, point taken" snarled the rat-like fellow begrudgingly. "But even if the council does continue with this notion, he is just one man and an undisciplined gentleman with the dexterity of a slug drunk off of Moonshine at that. "
The young man is fortunate enough to finally kill the sniper, after dying to his hands at least twelve times. He then proceeds to have a heated, but insulting gamer moment and spews a few racial slurs.
"Thats why he will not go alone, for you shall accompany him..."

"Jonathon Easton Chandler!!" bellowed a squeaky bony beta boy clad in silver samurai armor that is a tad too big for him. "The supreme wisdom and nobility of the Dewrito council has summoned you"
"About time those cucks requested me" groaned Jon-Chan "I've been mopping the floor with this loser for the past tens minutes on Sandtrap."
"Uh so does mopping the floor mean getting your stupid ass schwacked every ten seconds!" The boy replied sullenly.
"What the fuck!? You're XxMilfHunter69xX!"
"The one and only, dickhead! Anyhow, you should get into the chamber and speak to those virgins, that is unless you don't mind getting your ass kicked some more?" the tiny boy challenged.
Jon-Chan, not wanting to showcase his skills(well, lack thereof) and hoping to get this meeting over with to return to his flat, proceeds to walk towards the heavy doors that led to the council chamber, but not without using his massive weight and big bone structure to knock the bony guardsman aside and onto his ass.
The sniffling guardsman shouts "jerkoff" as Jon-Chan close the heavy doors behind him.

Jonathon is met with silence and a dark, warm room with the scent of moldy tofu with a waft of spoiled milk. He has seen this moment played out in countless video games and anime, but decides to move closer into the room to await the lights.
Holy shit were those things bright!
Jon-Chan's eyes were used to the dim yellow lights found in every apartment and in every street of the Basementia, so his eyes weren't ready for the engulfed in a light that could kill fascist in a Lost Ark.
"Joey, no need to the blind the poor fucker" Said a sassy, gargled feminine voice. The light seemed to have a dimmer switch as the intensity seems to steadily decrease. Jon-Chan was now very attentive to m'lady.
Jon-Chan turned around to see five hooded figures around donning the green minecraft creeper hoody that nearly everyone in Basementia owns. Their faces were even covered by the creeper mask the zips down. Jon-Chan was cringing and had nearly shat himself in his efforts to not express any cringe upon his face.
"We have an urgent task for you my son" a deep voice beckoned from a towering creeper wannabe behind Jon-Chan. "However, not a single word here can be uttered to another neckbeardian apart from those in this room currently and to those we assign to you with an official seal of trust."
Jon-Chan was sweating bullets, so much that his Axe bodyspray that he had applied an hour earlier had worn off from the magnitude of the sweat. While he was unsure of what to expect before entering the chamber, he was now more uncertain and more worried of what will happen next.
"Please allow me to introduce ourselves" the lanky hooded figure assured "I am Councilman Maximillian Saki Naruto the Third, but you can just call me.....Max". This lovely M'lady is Councilwoman Sarah Megan and over there is Councilman Joey Shepard, Councilman North West, and Councilman Chris Manchest" He said pointing at a curvy hooded figure, a hunched man with his noticeably large nose and beer gut sticking out of his creeper hoodie, and the two rather chunky individuals with their muffin-tops spilling out from underneath their own hoodies.
"Oh my goodness Max! I can introduce myself" Scoffed Sarah. "But whatever, just continue doing you or something"
"Well without any further interruptions "Max announced with a bitter glance towards Sarah "The city of Basementia is in dire straits, my friend. We are running low on tendies and at the rate of consumption, we believe our people are going to starve from a lack of sustenance within the next year or so if we are lucky. "
We have tried to limit consumption and increase the value of the GBP and offer more leaner choices... yet, our efforts have only slowed this consumption rate down by a mere percent. "exclaimed Max "Bitches really love their tendies".
"Okay, i get that, but what the heck do you expect me to do about that? I'm a warrior and a pro-gamer not a cook".
Despite being hooded, Jon-Chan was able to pick up on the doubtful glance between Councilman Max and Councilwoman Sarah. He stayed silent, not wanting to make this summoning last any longer than it should.
"We need you to find MOM, our lovely benefactor, our provider and bring her back home. We can't survive without her help"
Jon-Chan crossed his arms and brought them closer towards his chest. "Okay, so how do you expect me to do that?"
"We are aware of your heritage" piped Joey, as he circled around and close to Jon-Chan. "Your distant great grandmother, Christine Weston Chandler was a noble warrior who managed to defend the Neckbeardians escape during the Siege of Shapirograd had a powerful medallion that granted her the speed and strength of lighting. Joey reaches into his hoodie pockets, taking out bags of fun-sized Doritos in his frantic search, finally pulling out and brandishing a yellow medallion, laced with thin steel chains and what appears to be an anthropomorphic animals face upon the medallion.
Jon-Chan's worrisome look was washed away by the interest, awe, and anger that flashed upon his face. For one thousand years these bastards had his super great grandmothers Sonichu Medallion and hide it from his bloodline.
"We had no way of activating it, but we believe that her predecessor could possess the ability of activating its power. It might help in your journey to find MOM or its powers could be used to protect you and your entourage from Chad.
"Okay, so whats in it for me?" Jon-Chan queried "After all, I'm risking my life for these people and they don't even know that I'm doing it, what gives?".
"A fair question" Sarah affirmed. "After MOM's return, we shall inform the public of your exploits, give you access to your own harem of beautiful waifu's, and enough Good Boy Points to establish a Wendy's".
"You had me at Waifu Harem!" Jon-Chan's eyes lit up with joy as he was bouncing with glee.
"Just one thing though?" Jon-Chan asked "Where should I start looking for her?"
Joey popped up from behind Jonathon and said "We believe that MOM, may have returned to her original home of Tradin-Moyer, or Mount Dewnali near the former city state of Dewtonia. "
"Yes young warrior", said Max "I should advise that you go home and pack your essentials and meet with your team near the city entrance." "And please do not attempt to 'tie loose ends'. Try to keep this a secret from everyone you know, as we can't risk a breach in secrecy."
That wouldn't be a problem for Jonathon. As he isn't really close to those he see on a regularly basis. In fact, he is just glad to be given the opportunity to be away from rather abhorrent person.
He left the chambers, only to look back at Sarahs figure, hoping that she would reciprocate and turn back at her. Maybe even reveal a warm loving and longing face. But alas, she and the rest of the council members had disappeared.
The march back home to Jonathan's apartment was a rather unstimulating trek. He notices a few homeless neckbeard's on curbs of the empty, dark streets with their Wii U so bright that it reveals their greasy faces en-captivated by the consoles enrapturing gameplay.
Jonathon scoffed at his fellow neckbeard's, believing he is superior for being able to pay for half of his rent.
Jonathon arrived to his apartment, only to be greeted by sharp scent of cigarette smoke and the olfactory residue of musty, sweat drenched socks and weeks old ketchup. He looked around for his roommate Sir Samson, an old ex-knight of the basementia chivalry service, who now spends his retirement days and GBP's on fly paper traps, daily take out, and 4 packs of cigarettes. "He wasn't hear, perhaps he went out to get more cigarettes" Jonathon thought, wading through piles of trash, empty soda cans, and even a few ash trays on the floor, hoping that he could avoid Sir Samson, before he left.
He got to his room, which while littered with dirty clothes here and there and a few bottles of piss jugs near his desktop, was leagues tidier than the majority of the flat that Sir Samson occupied.
Jonathon hurriedly look around his room for his bag of Tendies and stuffed them into his backback. He then looked towards his pasta stained Hatsune Miku body pillow on his bed, kissed her on the cheek. "Oh Hatsune-Chan" He said with a perverse gargle. "I wish M'lady would accompany me on this noble journey, but I wouldn't want to see you get hurt"
"Oh its totally fine Jon-Chan, I will love you for being such a thoughtful gentleman and for being sooo good in bed!" He said with a high pitched voice, as if he was a ventriloquist.
"Oi cunt!" a loud abrasive Australian accent was heard from behind Jonathon. It was Sir Samson, dressed in a wifebeater and faded light grey sweat pants, holding a blushing batman body pillow in his big meaty left forearm, while his skinny right arm was holding a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red. His patchy beard did nothing to hide the look of perpetual anger and sexual frustration on his face "What da Fook are you going off to!"
Gotta think of a lie quick...
"U'm, I'm just going to a friends house Samson, I just want to let Hatsune know that I will be gone for a day"
Cha-Cha real smooth...
"A fruitcake like you ain't got no friends and don't give me crap about you finding a 'Boyfriend Free Girl' either! Ye ain't getting no action."
Cha-Cha not real smooth...
"Whatever man, just leave me be, why would you care if I was gone!?"
"Cause I still need somebody to pay off the rent, bills don't pay themselves you know"
Jonathon hadn't thought about how his home expenses were going to paid off with his departure. Hopefully the Council will have the sense to pay for it while he was gone.
"Well don't worry bout it, I won't be gone for too long, I'm just spending a day or two at a friends."
"Yeah well fine! I will spend these next few days taken care of your little lady here, fruitcake. She is my waifu and my property for the next few days. " Sir Samson taunts.
Jonathon had enough of Sir Samson's shit and turned towards his waifu pillow. "Lets go babe". he mutters as he grabs Hatsune chan. He knew that she would be extra weight, but he didn't want to give Sir Samson the satisfaction of plowing his bodypillow, but he feels as if he had already given Samson a victory anyhow.
"What! I'm just joshing you bro. " Sir Samson assured him, poorly. "Also its Sir Samson! Sir! you cuck!"
Jonathon ignores him and as he collects his backpack and his waifu and storms out the door, leaving a loud thump in his exit.
it has been an hour since his embarrassing departure from his apartment to the gate. On the way there, Jonathon has been cursing Sir Samsons name, affirming to himself that his first state of business as a champion once he's back home, would be to exile Sir Samson into the outside world, just like they council two hundred years ago exiled the defiler for making MOM leave with his cursed cumsock.
It had been two more hours of climbing a long flight of stairs to the surface gate. Jonathon didn't know if he could even make it to the outside without collapsing and passing out, but if it wasn't sheer willpower that got him up the massive flight of stairs, it had to be the scent of fried food that awaited him at the top of the steps. As he crested the final step, he collapsed forward onto his knees, only to be greeted a caravan of thirty or so fat or skinny fat neckbeards and legbeards alike, all in armor or robes, brandishing spears and katana's, performing mock duels with one another to pass the time, whilst eating funnel cakes, fried oreo's and fried nacho cheese dorito's.
"Oh great, he's finally here" said a familiar squeaky voice. "The CWC-born has come!" Jonathon looked up to see a towering midget or at least a little kid standing over his prone form. It was the same kid who summoned him into the council chambers earlier.
"Ah man, are you my squire now" retorted Jon-Chan.
The kid stuck his tongue at Jon-Chan "pfft, you should be my squire, since i kicked your ass in halo and could probably kick your ass in a real fight too". The kid replied "besides, how did some loser like become the CWC-born and the supposed champion of Neckbeardia?"
"Well, they needed someone whose balls dropped and unlike you, i fit the job requirements."
The child soldier looked dejected and shied away from his comrade. He hadn't even tried to come up with a witty insult.
"Are you seriously bringing that with you?" said another familiar voice. It was Joey Shepard, clad in a t-shirt with jeans and a layer of chainmail over him, his beer gut buldging outwards, in a distance quite similar to his elongated nose.
"What?" said Jon-Chan, confused as to what has alluded a bewildered response.
"That body pillow genius" Joey replied, pointing at Jon-Chan's majestic and pasta stained waifu. Jonathan's face turns red "Its just for comfort" he said sheepishly"
"Well, you should have more comfort and faith in this "Joey said, giving him his grandmothers Sonichu Medallion from underneath his chainmail. "And figure out a way to use it on our way there. It would suck to need and not have it activated than to not need it and find a way to activate it. "
"Ah, yeah bet. By the way, why are you here? Don't you have important political crap to deal with?" Jonathon asked.
"All my work will be taken over by Max, I trust that he can take care of a thing or two while I'm gone. Plus, in my free time I am an annalist." Joey replied with pride.
"Oh yeah! You're one of the guys who bores people to death with dry stories of this place" Jonathon said with a hint of vicious mockery towards the annalist"
Joey's face was staring daggers at Jonathon, muttering curses at him as he wearily gives him the finger. Jonathon had a wide smile extending from each side of his face.
There was a moment of silence, Jonathon finally noticed the rest of the caravan staring upon him, as if waiting for him to say anything profound or inspiring, but alas he had nothing. These man-children and women-children were looking up to him for guidance that he did not possess. While he knew of his own lineage, he did not really expect to live up to the CWC-born title. He was distressed by their stares, his body paralyzed by their looks of awe.
"Come on, think of something simple to get this over with."
Jonathon look towards his new comrades and said. "We have alot of work ahead of us" Jonathon stammered. "And while ..um..I don't know any of you people, I'm willing to bet that the council does and are confident in your abilities." Jonathon gulped audibly, he felt as if he was tanking this whole speech. "I'm new to this whole champion ordeal, but well....I promise to do my part to be the best champion Basementia needs"
The looks upon their faces became more resolute, their fat bodies stood taller, with more composure. Now to really bring it in and drop some panties.
"With the power of friendship, we can do anything!" shouted Jonathon, with less confidence. However, Jonathon's words seem to have lost the growing respect that he had just obtained, only to be replaced with confusing glances as a result of the cringey and trite statement. "Um. simply just dew your duty....Uh that is all!?"
The warriors seemed less pleased, but definitely not displeased with Jonathon's speech, but seemed to be happy that it was over with.
"Yeah, you're definitely, gonna need some practice bud." whispered Joey.
"Ha, I'll say, that sucked...kinda" snorted the kid.
Jonathon looked down at the little fucker only to turn his attention towards the gates and the last dozen steps ceremoniously leading towards the gates. Why did the designer have such a hard-on for stairs, escalators do exist.
Jonathon was the first to walk up the steps that ascend to the surface world. The giant steel doors roared as they opened, revealing a white hot light from the sun. A loud hiss could be heard from city below as they more than likely been exposed to the sun for the first time.
For the first time in over two hundreds has one person left Basementia in shame, only for one to walk out into the unknown to be a champion to his people. Jonathon Easton Chandler was then met with the warmth of the sun on his face and the kiss of the cold wind on his lips. He was still in shock, he was a little excited to experience the world not from the soulless retellings of annalist or from the bitter memory from videos of those long ago. For the first time ever he will see the world. The real world for the first time and for the first time ever, he was truly afraid.
submitted by ZeroCharismaBard to MoonhorseStories [link] [comments]

How to Get Started With Sports Betting

Sports betting is simply placing a wager on a sporting event. You are betting that your team, horse, dog, or driver will win. If they do win, so do you! If they lose, you lose your bet amount. Sports betting takes place all over the world, though in the United States this type of betting is not as highly accepted as it is in Europe.
Online sports betting is probably the best option for those who are interesting in trying it for the first time. If you have never tried online sports betting, you are missing so much fun and excitement, and it can all happen in the comfortable surroundings of your home! The art of sports betting can seem confusing at first, but once you are familiar with some of the jargon that is used to explain the concepts and logic behind each type of bet, it is all much easier to understand.
One of the best ways for you to experience this engaging way to bet on your favourite racing and sporting events is to get acquainted with online sports betting. However, in order to best take advantage of all that sports betting has to offer, you need to know a little more about it.
Sports Betting - The Odds
How does online sports betting work? You should start by studying the odds for the sporting event you are most interested in placing a wager upon. When using online sports betting, you can find these odds in the various online sports books used by Internet gamers everywhere. You must open an account with an online sports book before you can place your bet, but this is simple to do.
Once you have chosen where you are going to do your sports betting, you need to decide how you are going to place your bet. There are many different ways for you to wager your chosen amount of money, but first, let's talk about the spread and how it can affect the amount you bet.
Sports Betting - The Spread
The spread is a point advantage in sports betting, which is usually given to the team that is generally expected to lose a particular sporting event. If you decide that you will bet on the team that is expected to win, they will have to win by more than the spread number and cover the spread before you are considered to have chosen correctly. If you choose the team that is expected to lose, that team will have to lose by less than the spread number in order for your pick to be considered correct. If by chance the team wins by the number of points that were chosen as the spread, the game is called a push.
No one who engages in sports betting wins a thing if a game is called as a push, but you do get the amount of your original bet back. The point spread is done in order to make the all of the bets come out even for the sports book, and is usually done for sports such as basketball or football.
Sports Betting - The Bet
If you were to bet against the spread, most likely you would place a type of bet called an 11-10, or spread bet. By betting $11, you win $10 if your team's score covers the spread. This is another way that the online sports book makes its money.
An over-under bet is also an 11-10 bet. With this type of bet, the total score of the two teams that played will be either over or under the total score that was listed before the game was played. Betting on the score being over is called 'betting on the ball'. Betting on the score being under is called 'betting on the clock'.
A proposition bet is a type of bet where the online sports book chooses what the odds and the conditions of the bet are going to be. This type of bet can be most interesting, even a little fun at times, for the conditions can be as unusual as which of two football teams will make the most touchdowns, which of two basketball teams will score the most three pointers, or even which individual player will make a certain move for the team. The odds for this kind of bet are sometimes 11-10, but can be better or worse depending on the circumstances.
A parlay bet happens when you are betting on more than one event, usually three. This type of bet gives you a much higher payout if you should win, but the catch is that all the events you bet on will have to win. If even one of them loses, they all lose, and you lose the amount that you bet.
A money line bet seems rather formidable, especially to someone who is just getting into online sports betting, but it is really one of the simplest bets of all. It is also called a Straight Up bet, and there is no point spread to consider. You will just choose your sport, and then the team you think will be either the underdog or the favourite. In a money line bet, the sports book will have numbers listed that are in the hundreds, with either a plus or a minus sign beside them. These numbers are considered the 'money line', and are the multipliers for the bets.
If the money line for your team is listed as 100, you will make an even bet. This means you will wager the same amount that you will get back. If the money line reads -110, then you must come up with the amount of money you have decided to bet, plus 10%. This extra 10% is known by the name of 'juice'. If the money line for your team is listed as +110, then you simply place your bet with the amount you choose to bet. If you win a money line bet, you get the amount of your bet plus 10% back. For example, if you bet $10.00 and $1.00 in juice on a -110 money line and it wins, you get $21. 00.
A teaser bet in sports betting is actually a proposition bet that allows you to change the odds for the bet in either direction so that the wager is in your favour. You can go up or down in points, and must choose at least two teams, as is done in a parlay bet. You can have as many as 6 separate teams included on a teaser bet, but all of the teams chosen have to win in order for your bet to be declared a winning one. Once the games are over, the points from the teaser bet are added or subtracted from the final scores. The odds for teaser bets can be different each time, so it is a good plan to always check the sports book before placing your bet.
A tip to remember is that generally, when placing a wager on any sport that can finish with a high score, such as football, you will have a spread. Sports where the ending score is low, such as in baseball will have a money line. Remember also that favourable odds on a game can sometimes work in your favour. Online sports betting allows you to easily go from sports book to sports book to find the best odds.
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Let’s Not Be a Drama Queen About This: Recap of Before the 90 Days, S04E07

Welcome to another recap of Before the 90 Days: The Season Where No One is Dating. First off, if you’re watching Geoffrey’s segment, your safe word is “orange”. If that doesn’t work, please lock yourself in a panic room and wait there until the Avengers arrive. If you hear one voice say, “No really, this is totally the Avengers” do not open the door. Or maybe just social-distance yourself from this whole fucking storyline, because we should not be observing this human stain.
Let’s turn our attention to prisoner of war Usman, busy filming a real life version of Get Out. You know it’s bad when the con artist seeking green card access to bolster a floundering hip hop career is the protagonist. I haven’t felt this awkward since last season of Vanderpump Rules when I was forced to defend James Kennedy. Anyway, Baby-Girl Lisa still hasn’t successfully harvested his essence to maintain control over the Dark Crystal, and Usman threatens to throw a wrench into her plans with a daring escape in the trunk of his friend’s car. Then he realizes he left his phone in the hotel room, and it’s got the lyrics to “Dabbing” on it, so he’s forced to return, to face Lisa losing the mind she never had.
She declares that he’s been absent for 30 minutes and she’s upset …which would have also been the case if he were gone for five minutes, or not at all, or if he went to the bathroom unsupervised, or put on his right shoe before his left one, or stood up too quickly or not fast enough. This time, Lisa’s argument is that she was “scared’ to be left alone (with producers in a hotel room). Annoyed with this never-ending wheel of complaint, Usman declares that he can’t win with her. Then BGL cuts him down with “Let’s not be a drama queen about this.” That’s right kids, all aboard the Gaslight Express, where the person reacting to the drama is the drama queen — not the person perpetually creating it. Would someone please take this man’s photo so he can restore his spirit to his body with the flash? GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!
She continues to stitch a verbal quilt of grievances, while noting how irrelevant Usman’s points are, and looking like she’s ready to start filming her episode of Intervention. Usman slowly realizes that Lisa is unlikely to have an adult conversation with his mother, let alone a respectful one, and he may not be able to salvage his Nigerian hip hop career, let alone forge one in the US of A. He goes outside and admits to the producers that he may have reached his breaking point, and would like to know if they have some kind of relocation program. This is not what Lisa expects from a prisoner, and she informs the producers that “the man who left here is not the man I abducted.”
Usman returns at 2AM to sit in an adjacent room and not talk to Lisa, making half of his wildest dreams come true. He lights up a hookah and considers how he has this “wonderful opportunity” to go to the states, and it might be too much to pretend to like Lisa long enough to get a green card. The producers ask him how he’s doing, and he says that anything he does is not enough, and before he can answer further BGL groans her way into the room.
“Nobody’s perfect. You need to make up your mind and make it up quick,” She declares, because that makes sense. He attempts to confront her, and states that he’s always respected her, and she insults him. And if it’s this bad in Nigeria, what’s it going to be like when she submerges him in preservative gel in the United States? “You’re very insecure about this relationship,” Lisa mumbles.
Usman says that yes, he is, that’s the truth. Then Lisa unfurls her scroll of half-assed excuses, including that the whole trip has been stressful, that there’s a five hour time difference, that she’s in this hotel room that bests the average Idaho haunt but is beneath her, and it’s a day of the week that ends in y, and he should know how she feels about that. Then she says she wants to “close it up” which is the closest Usman is going to get to an apology. For whatever reason, Usman decides that this will do, and later Lisa expresses concerns about returning to the US alone, and declares “ it will destroy both of us.” By this she means she’ll be forced to rework the plot into something that ends with her saucy finger, and will leak the unedited version of Usman’s “I Love You” video, because that’ll teach him.
Speaking of horror movies, let’s stop by Silence of the Lambs to visit Creepy Ed, who puts the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again. Rose has made the unfortunate mistake of returning to their shared hotel room, where he hands her a robe and tells her to take a bath, then forces champagne on her, and says he’s going to rub her feet. Note that he didn’t ask her if she was interested in any of these things. Ed considers this “showing how romantic he can be” while the rest of us call this “reasons to run out of the room with your shoes in your hand the minute he goes to the bathroom.” As she gets comfortable because he told her to, Big Nightmare declares he’s “staring at her feet and not her pajamas,” and I’m staring into the deep black abyss, hunting for a portal to escape this. Friends, this is it: the Most Cringe Scene in 90DF History. There’s not even any competition. This is the Citizen Kane of cringe.
“It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever its told,” Ed declares, with “Goodbye Horses” softly playing in the background.
“Please let me out,” Rose cries.
Since Rose is recoiling in a manner obvious to anyone who isn’t an incel, Ed seizes the opportunity to ask her for a kiss. She says on her cheek or the end of her fist after a wind up, whatever he prefers. He asks for “the middle” which she assumes means the forehead. He kisses her on the cheek, and then brow beats her into kissing him on the mouth. She gets it over with as quickly as possible, and Ed declares that it was “nice” and Jesus Christ, someone put a collar on this beast.
“Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me,” Ed explains (“Goodbye horses, I’m flying over you…”.)
“Is this called coercion in United States?” Rose asks.
“It puts the lotion in the fucking basket!”
The next morning it appears Rose has finally succumbed to his ridiculous advances, and seems cool with it. She declares a hatred for his under-the-bridge beard, and Ed notes that she has hairy legs, which he finds “gross,”and asks her to shave them to best match his blow-up doll ideal. This is rich coming from someone with a greasy mop of Clairol for Mayo dangling in his face. Soon I’ll kick off a GoFundMe to buy Rose a full-body merkin to insulate her lady flesh from Ed’s Rumpelstiltskin mitts. For now, she goes in for the shave and Ed ditches the beard, and I long for the Wookie days of yore.
Later he heads to Rose’s house to act like a goon around a larger audience. He takes a three hour cab ride to her village, where he is shocked to discover that the Philippines is like the Philippines. First he meets Rose’s son Prince, who initially seems confused, and then declares “daddy!” And embraces him. Big Ed isn’t sure how he feels about being a father again at 54, but he’s totally okay with dating a child. Ed is also uneasy about meeting Rose’s sister Maria, because she hit up Ed for cash. Once Maria meets Ed, she realizes she should have asked for more.
The family is waiting with a little surprise party, and Ed meets Rose’s other two sisters and a brother-in-law. When they ask what he thinks, he wants to know where the windows are, and if he should worry about getting rabies from wayward bats or cockroaches, because he’s heard both things are attracted to the scent of canola oil. Seriously: why can’t anyone on this show make a polite comment to the family except Angela? How hard is it to say, “Well I bet you have a great view of the stars!”
Rose’s family has a nice set of dishes arranged for dinner, including fish, chicken, rice, and the silky gravy of Ed’s back sweat. He asks for something to drink, while they marvel at the river running down his face, and we learn her father is running late because he’s busy at the pig farm, which also sounds suspiciously poor to Ed. When Father arrives he’s quiet, contemplating that his daughter is hoping to marry someone older than himself, who is pushing his food around his plate, and calling a chicken like a dog to feed it from the table. Rose’s father wants to know if Ed knows the difference between dinner and a dog, and then asks what Ed’s intentions are, other than getting on his damn nerves. Ed declares, “I want to get to know your daughter, no games.” Sure, Prince is already calling him “daddy,” but wouldn’t want to create strange expectations by suggesting marriage post-coitus, amirite?
Ed declares that now that he’s seen the depth of their poverty, he worries that he’s just a meal ticket to Rose, and not the man of her dreams, even though he’s after Rose for specific things himself. It’s important for her to love him like Rose loved Jack in the Titanic, even if Ed can’t draw anything and would demand to be the only body on that floating door, and she’s the only person to consider him king of any world.
Meanwhile, Tom continues his crusade to come off as a sympathetic character by making sad eyes from his good angle for the camera. As he pieces together one of his predictably boring outfits, he says he hopes they can have a conversation and attack the problem and not the person, but admits that he doesn’t care about attacking the person if the person is Darcey and not himself.
He situates himself to await her arrival, while Darcey enters the joint with a Beyoncé track in her head, and dumps her 16 changes of clothing on an unsuspecting hostess who has questions. Then she struts. Her. Shit. This is officially the first time Darcey has donned an outfit that isn’t from her signature Midlife Crisis line, and that jumpsuit is the fuck-you jam, and I want it for my next dramatic public fight with a future ex. She greets him as “Thomas” and passes on the affectionate greeting in favor of a handshake, before settling in for some gold medal passive aggression.
Tom: I’m nervous. Because I’m full of shit.
Darcey: No need. It’s just me. That’s called constipation, Tom.
Tom: How was Malta? If I had talked to you sometime in the last six weeks, I might know the answer to this question.
Darcey: It was nice to spend it with Stace. Thank you for the birthday…text. You said you were going to call or video call, I waited that whole day…but it’s okay. I know you’re a dick.
Tom: What actually happened to us? I’m going to act like what happened isn’t me going balls deep in another chick and bragging about it on instagram.
Darcey: I don’t know, but you must not know about me, you must not know about me. Should I say it twice? That’s kinda weird. It sounded better in my head.
Hannibal Lector: Cut him on the bias, Clarice. Serve him with a nice Chianti.
Tom goes on to say that she “was” this lovely woman, but has very specific things she wants, and she’s really not there for him, because she’s preoccupied with selecting the right filters for her twirling face-angle shots on instagram. He insists that Darcey never lets him talk during the conversations they don’t have, while a waiter with bad timing regrets his water glass decisions, and knows his tip is going to be bullshit. Darcey’s not having it, and knows he’s rerouting the events of the last six months to be about her doing something wrong, so she wants to know what his secret is, and talks to him in a soothing voice that is WAY more terrifying than mad Darcey.
“What do you want to hear?” Tom asks, because he’s still determined to make this about how out of control and unreasonable Darcey is, what with her fancy wanting interaction and silly expectations that he wouldn’t start another relationship before breaking it off with her.
“Tell her she’s insecure,” Baby Girl Lisa advises.
Darcey says she knows about the other woman he’s been posing with in stilted thigh-grab photographs, and Tom says that he met this person three weeks ago, and her name is Shannon, and he was hoping to get some exit sex. Since that doesn’t seem to be working out, he goes with, “I met someone who loves me the way I want to be loved. In three weeks.” Then what the fuck are you doing there, dude? He says, “You had everything of me in your hands, and you didn’t see it. And it was hard to listen to the Jesse thing all the time, when I was busy thinking about other people I planned to bang.” Since this isn’t already ridiculous enough, he says he’s not her notion of love, and that he loves her like a sister he wants to have sex with. Darcey thinks about what this means for her and Stacey, while Tom says he wants to be her friend.
Darcey nixes that bullshit, and says she doesn’t want to be friends. Then Tom tells her to “try not to ruin the next” relationship, and it’s easier to get through this scene if you imagine Tom has a diseased ballsack for a chin, which isn’t far off. He lets Darcey pay for his coffee, and continues throwing his Chex Mix on the floor by saying it’s a weight off of him, and when Darcey tells him to enjoy his life, he responds, “I will now that you’re not in it.” That twice a year interaction was really bringing him down before.
Tom tells the producers that he showed up to see if anything was still there, and because he wanted to be on camera one more time, and because he wanted to have sex with Darcey’s smother-titties before returning to the safety of Shannon’s thigh. Darcey is over this shit, and is ready to watch the baseball bat video with Beyoncé is a yellow dress, breaking stuff.
It’s time to revisit the platonic romantic relationship of Erika and Stephanie. As she stated last week, Stephanie is “waiting” to have sex until she’s actually bisexual, so Erika should start checking out social-distancing hers and hers nursing homes right now. Erika got to know Stephanie as someone with a risqué, fun, and sexual online persona, and she incorrectly assumed that Stephanie would clue her in if her real self didn’t match that presentation. With this in mind, Erika is certain Steph will love her big date surprise: a little artsy neon-lit joint where the last Rockabilly chick in an updo coaches women through the wet wrap construction of boob molds! Is this a thing so one day they can look back fondly on the time their tits weren’t smacking against their knees, or to create a decorative dinner mint container? I want to surprise a friend who will hate me afterwards with this, or arrive with just my cat and wide eyes and my own set of decorative paints. Or maybe I will wake up my partner tomorrow by hovering over him with a jar of plaster while whispering, “it’s time to preserve me.”
Stephanie doesn’t like this because she is wrong, and this is her first time seeing her own breasts outside of the internet. So she sits there awkwardly while everyone has their guns out for a showdown at the double-d corral, wondering why the fuck Erika didn’t see fit to, you know, ask if she wanted to have her tits in the air. All snark aside, I’m siding with Stephanie on this one. Choosing to explore the wonders of titty molds is one thing; arriving at a surprise titty shakedown is another, especially when this doubles as the debut fondling experiment. Something tells me Erika was hoping this would lead to The Sex. This is very Ed of you, Erika. But your fried egg overalls are still amazing.
Anyway, Stephanie decides to play along, and shakes the boxes of medication out of her bra to brace for breast spackle. The other titty sisters preserving their boobage opt to engage, which they will soon regret, and they ask about their relationship, and whether one of them intends to relocate to keep their romance warm. Stephanie, who is pissed off enough that she’s looking for anything to inspire grenade lobbing at Erika, says that she doesn’t think it will last very long if they’re not in the same place. Erika reminds her that she’s a photographer, and already has weddings booked that she needs to complete before moving to another country. Plus, she hears there’s a great plague coming that will leave us all under house arrest indefinitely. Also: it’s day 2. Maybe slow down on a borderline ultimatum. Erika then expresses confusion that on one hand Stephanie is very eager for their relationship to be set in stone, and on the other doesn’t want to have sex with her when they’re working with a tight three-week timeline.
“Is this coercion?” Rosemarie asks.
“Sort of,” Erika reluctantly admits. “I’m hoping it won’t count because I’m bisexual.”
“Still creepy though, and I KNOW creepy,” Ed is there with the confirmation.
Later on they ready themselves for a date, which is really a set-up so Stephanie can interrogate Erika about having a dating app on her phone. Other people would, you know, ask about the app the minute it was spotted, but the cameras weren’t there and this storyline needs Stephanie’s extensions.
Stephanie kicks things off by stating her intentions to take Erika to a nice dinner, and gives Erika a cute tiara headband thing to wear on their date. Once they’ve settled into their table and the thought of romance has dared to enter Erika’s head, Stephanie brings up the “boobie papier mache” and thinks a lot of people get the wrong impression of her, based on what she’s shown and told them. Then Steph demands to know what’s up with the app, and if Erika’s dated anyone else in the four months they’ve been thousands of miles apart. Erika says that she hasn’t and isn’t, but keeps it going for the networking side of things, and by networking she means dicks and vaginas under glass, which are useful in event of emergency.
Stephanie asks if she’d be open to deleting it, so Erika does it, but is annoyed that Stephanie doesn’t trust her and this action is required, and she hasn’t even had any swindle cake yet. Stephanie says the app just makes her uncomfortable, to which an exasperated Erika declares, “Everything makes you uncomfortable!” She says that Steph sold herself as free spirited and then arrived operating with the assumption that presents grant her the right to control her. 87% of the 90DF cast is miffed by this suggestion, and so is Stephanie. Erika takes off Stephanie’s tiara mind control device and storms off, and we get a good look at the extension cords and a sad drain on the floor when they chase after Erika while Stephanie fake cries at the table.
For some reason the producers are still entertaining the Yolanda story, which features her unwavering commitment to displaying total ignorance of British accents, despite the ability to pull up a two minute video on Youtube that would clarify this madness. Yolanda’s daughter notes that Williams appears to have a Nigerian name, address, phone number, accent, and passport, and the caps lock text he sent her reading, “HI I’M NIGERIAN” is a little suspicious. Yolanda is flummoxed, because he lives in Manchester and looks like an underwear model, and why would anyone lie about that? No one is this stupid. Stop it, 90DF. This makes Nicole’s insistence that Azan isn’t already married look convincing. Are there no actual relationships in the queue?
Later, she spends a few days trying to get a hold of him, before she receives an email threatening to release nudes she sent Williams if she doesn’t send money. Kinda like the money Williams asked her to send so he could travel to Vegas. Yolanda thinks this might be part of a rogue hacking operation, scouring the internet for instagram accounts to delete. She needs him to be real so desperately, and I’d feel sorry for her if this wasn’t already outed as an act, and I suspect she made up the email address herself and sent the threat to stretch out her screen time. Have we seen any relationship with Williams up until this point? Other than a string of heart emojis?
Finally, we’ve got Avery and Ash. They’re prepping for a three day trip to the other side of Australia, which Avery doesn’t see as a vacation, because she’s here to get answers about Ash, and you can’t possibly learn about someone by whether or not you’re capable of having fun with them.
“I have an opinion about this,” Erika interjects.
Avery is suspicious because of the shady behavior of Ash’s brother, who at dinner didn’t seem to support Ash’s statement about how easy it would be to take his child away from his mother to live in another country, permanently. Determined to not fall into the dicksand, Avery intends to confront him. They drive down into the country and Avery marvels at the beauty, before they stop in a pretty spot to have a picnic with Ash’s flower shop commitments on full display.
Ash: Yes, I am hearing you, and I am seeing you, and I think it’s good that you have words.
Avery: You’re giving me a rehearsed response. I think you’re sugarcoating the complexities of bringing Taj to America with you. Your brother didn’t seem convinced this would be as easy as you said.
Ash: This is communication, and it is open and honest and from a heart-centered place. I am confident that we can reach a positive outcome in these endeavors, if we continue to co-exist on this plane.
Avery: For fuck’s sake, I get that you’re trying to be positive, but living on planet earth means we’ve got to shovel some shit every once in awhile. Give me a truth bomb.
Ash: I’m afraid the complexity of this will cause you to bail, since you’ve previously dumped my ass. Also, here is some more jargon to plow over that rare moment of honesty, and to speed past the notion of what my ex-wife might have actually said about all this.
Avery: I need to talk to your ex-wife.
Ash: Oh damn.
Next week, Ed is shocked to learn that he’ll be sharing a room with another 54 year-old when he flew in for 19, David walks around Ukraine yelling Lana’s name and putting up missing-person posters, Ash is afraid of his ex-wife talking in plain English to Avery, and Erika is slowly wilting in the face of Stephanie’s highly developed control issues that already dominate their sexless union. Oh, and Darcey is flummoxed as to why Tom had to see her in person to humiliate her on TV, but she’s glad she got to wear that sick outfit, and for fuck’s sake will someone who actually wants to be in an instagram relationship hit her up and work out a hashtag with her already? Fuck!
Thank you, Patreon supporters, my lovely quarantine companions!
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I Thought This Never Happened

5109 Rosebush Lane

📷
For 22 years I have made myself believe this disturbing series of events did not happen to me. I have successfully convinced myself that this was all imagined. Our minds and souls have an amazing ability to protect us from psychological damage. Then I spoke with a friend that I haven’t seen in a long time. The same friend I allegedly experienced this event with. He confirmed the whole thing. I’ll do my best to accurately present the entire story.. as raw as it happened. And apparently it did happen.
This story revolves around a Ouija board. I hate to even type or say those words. I will not and have not touched one since 1997. As previously stated that was 22 years ago, making me 13 at the time. An age where I believe most of us start to branch out in curiosities. It’s no longer just having sleepovers with friends, playing various video game consoles, or getting into high school sports. Girls were starting to become appealing. In my time professional wrestling was starting to really take off. A group of my friends were diving into horror movies and scary stories. This is something that always appealed to me. Ever since reading “Scary stories to tell in the dark,” I was hooked. This series of books came out when I was around 8 years old. They sold them at our scholastic book fair. Looking back these stories and illustrations were way too intense for 8 year olds in my opinion but I sure did enjoy them. We like being scared; we like to feel something more than the everyday mundane drudge of life.
My friend Philly and I enjoyed getting together and watching horror movies and telling urban legends. We started doing this almost weekly, especially during the summer when school was out. Of course this was pre-internet era so all we had media wise was actually renting a movie or physically going to the theatre. And since most horror movies were R rated, we couldn’t see them. I’m sure to most millennials or post millennials this sounds like a nightmare scarier than any real life story.
Because we got tired of renting the same movies over and over we often focused on urban legends, what we call creepypastas today. We might find some books at the library that had them, or we just made our own up. At this time we wanted to feel some actual terror. I wish we would have just stuck with our stupid scary stories. I bet every group of friends had one of those parker brothers made board game stashed somewhere. The infamous Ouija board. This “toy,” is simple. They even used to advertise it, a board with the alphabet, numbers, yes, no, and goodbye. I suppose this was inevitable, every kid has to learn for themselves that these are not to be played with. Literally and metaphorically.
Growing up in a God fearing family I knew this felt wrong. I felt this board wasn’t right. I also could see through the marketing strategy that parker bros were selling these specifically to children, like all board games, but this was different. They wanted kids to play this only. Not adults. You played monopoly and chutes and ladders with your parents. You sure as hell didn’t play the Ouija with them. I felt this was wrong, but I also didn’t know anything. I was 13! My current 35 year old self has a hard time understanding what happened, and why I dove in to this, knowing the outcome would not be ideal.
“I found it,” my buddy Philly said. “Under my sister’s bed.” This was the start of a series of events that would haunt me for quite a while. “It,” of course was the board. We made sure no one was home when we pulled it out. There was an air of mischief around this thing. Certainly we couldn’t deal with his sister finding us in her room, and definitely not his mom finding out what we were up to.
The board was glossy and new. It looked like we were possibly the first to use it. The device that two or more people used to glide over the board, revealing the answers to your questions was almost ivory. I wanted to research what this was called but I don’t even want to start down the rabbit hole online. If you’ve noticed I don’t even want to call it by its name, simply referring to it as the board. I’ll call the gliding thing the oracle for this story. We had two sessions with the board. The first was incident free. We asked a few silly questions, what our future held, if we would get married and have kids, stuff like that. Even though I had never played this before, I still knew not to ask questions like what was the name of the person we were talking to. Maybe we had gotten that from the hours of watching scary movies.
The second session was when things got weird. Philly and I were going back and forth with the board, asking some simple questions about our future lives. I remember asking where I would live as an adult and the board said “Seattle.” I lived 2000 miles away from Seattle at the time. But this is where I felt the aura of the board shifted. It felt like a thunderstorm was brewing, one where the sky turned red. The oracle we used to piece out answers to our dumb questions had moved slowly before. Now it was jerking, almost moving off the board to the next letter. I can tell you this about this game: It is real and neither one of us were moving the oracle. My hands weren’t even on it at some points. But back to the Seattle question.
I was and still am a huge baseball fan. I have rooted, unfortunately, for the Detroit Tigers for my entire life. The mid to late 90’s was the explosion of Ken Griffey Jr. to major league baseball. I loved watching him play, I got his jerseys for a couple Christmas’s and birthdays. I’m sure most know that Griffey played for the Seattle Mariners. I loved how that nautical S looked on that teal uniform. I started researching the city of Seattle, and thought how cool it would be to live there. Do you see where this is going? This board was not plastic and glue to me anymore, there was something controlling it. Something powerful and dark that KNEW I had this particular city on my mind at this time.
I didn’t let on to my buddy what I was feeling. He didn’t seem to let on that he was afraid either so, we kept on.
The next segment of questions is a blur to me, all I remember is the oracle going mostly to NO when we asked a question, even if it wasn’t a yes or no answer that was required. Then I asked the last question that I would ever ask the Ouija. Don’t get your hopes it; it was nothing profound or deep at all. This is what I asked: “Would the Detroit Tigers ever win another world series?” The oracle moved so fast to goodbye I thought a tiny trail of fire would be on the board. I’ll never forget looking at Philly and seeing what I’m sure was the exact same bulging eye, mouth open expression that I had on my own face. We knew that one of the rules of this game was when the board said goodbye, you put it away immediately. I think we even read that on the instructions. We threw the board into it’s box, hustled to his sisters room as fast as two hostess cupcake and mountain dew filled teenagers could. Philly chucked the board under her bed like nothing happened. After a few breathless moments we finally started to let out tiny little laughs, lighting up into big belly laughs as we hit the floor rolling. We were laughing out the nervousness, also kind of feeling dumb at how scared we got.
After the madness finally started dying down we moved on like nothing happened. I should have stated right from the start that it was late at night when we started playing. I would say it was about midnight, as cliché as that is. When the board said goodbye to us it couldn’t have been more than 0100 in the morning. Philly lived in the country, across the street was a cemetery. I know, now I’m really hitting cliché territory but I swear its true. There weren’t many houses around. If you wanted to walk to your next door neighbor you better plan for a good 20 minute hike.
Finally all mania was shed, and tired from playing video games we decided to step outside. We looked at the graveyard, noting how calm the night was. Philly had a large section of his yard covered with Rosebush’s. They were pretty wild and were not kept up. Needless to say nothing would be able to get into those bush’s and not get completely diced. We heard rustling. Again, the night was calm and I don’t remember any wind at all. At first we could just hear the bush’s , then we could movement. To this day I do not know and don’t care to know what it was. It could have been a small animal but I highly doubt it. We knew something wasn’t right and bolted for his house. Even know writing this I can feel an eerie presence. We both knew this was relating to the board. Philly suggested we make it a night and try to get some sleep. I wish that was the end of this story.
A few short hours later we were woken up to a series of faint knocking noises. I could not determine were they were coming from but it sounded like it was somewhere outside his house. We both cautiously got up and moved to the kitchen, where his front door was. I slowly peeked outside and saw something that made my heart drop into my stomach. A man, slight build, wearing all denim was standing right outside the door. The man also had creepy looking horn rimmed glasses on, outdated even for the late 90’s. Philly had a porch in the front that was raised about 5 steps from the ground, and the man was on the ground. So when we saw him we were actually looking slightly down at him, seeing him from the top of his head down. It is an image that is burned into my mind. He didn’t move.. he just stood there. We once again fled to his room and shut the door. We didn’t call the Police, or his mom. We just sat in his room not sure what to do. After a few moments we stupidly decided to see if he was still there. He was gone. I successfully convinced myself that there was no man on the side of the house. I just couldn’t handle what was happening on this night. Philly did the same.
Finally day broke and we dismissed the disturbing events of the previous night. I don’t even think we discussed what happened. About a week later I got a call from Philly. He said he had a dream that we were playing the board and a hand came out and attempted to pull his head down. He awoke sweating and in a small amount of pain from where the force had grabbed him. I hated to say that I had a similar dream. Right there we decided to meet up and do something about this board. My mom dropped me off at his house a few days later to sleep over for the night. When I arrived I could not find him in his house. This was before cell phones so I did not have the option to simply call him and see where he was. I checked out back where his garage was. There stood Philly, with the board sitting atop a pile of kindling in a burning barrel. His mischievous grin told me what his plan was. We lit that sucker on fire. Nothing happened. Now I was really freaking out. We’ve all heard the stories of people attempting to burn a Ouija with no success. Philly wasn’t fazed though. He pulled out a jerry can full of gasoline and doused it. The board lit up and quickly evaporated into nothing. It was over.
As far as I can remember nothing happened after that. We didn’t speak of anything we experienced that night. Over the years I chalked it all up to an overactive teenage imagination. I may have told a handful of people over the years, mainly just to tell a scary story. I know I’ve said this a few times but I have completely treated this like it never happened. This, to me, was all imagined. We did play the game, but the rusting bush, the man, none of that happened.
Over the years I moved quite a distance away from Philly. We kept in touch a few times a year, even making the almost 1000 mile drive to see him about 10 years ago. Fast forward 10 more years and I decided to make the trip one last time to see my hometown and get together with Philly. He invited some people from the area and struck up a massive bon fire. In between bites of pizza and swigs of beer I recounted the story of that night. I told him how I imagined the aftermath of our decision to use that board. “I know you’re going to think this is crazy but I thought there was a man standing outside your house that night.” I said. Philly looked me as stone cold as he could and said “Yeah I remember that.” My blood never went colder. My friend confirmed exactly what happened that night. It was like we were both there again, 22 years ago. I repressed that Ouija board so hard I made myself believe it never happened.
The Ouija is nothing to be played with. I haven’t touched or looked at one in over two decades. How a piece of cardboard can summon some kind of evil from another realm is beyond me. I just know you don’t want to open it.
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Dead Media

The four of us sat in a back corner of the Crimson Club finishing our drinks. The place was empty but for us, a few old men at the bar, and a couple guys playing pool. It was an hour before closing and energies were waning. We listened in numbed silence as Frank regaled us with another tale of sexual conquest. It was hard to pretend interest anymore and I was just waiting for someone to suggest calling it a night, rather than breaking the seal myself.
Frank waved his phone in front of us.
"Look at her! Go ahead and tell me you wouldn't step over your own goddamn mothers for a piece of that!"
Some of us laughed half-heartedly. Travis let out a sigh.
"Let's bring it down a notch or two, Frank."
Frank looked at him cock-eyed for a moment. Then he waved his phone in front of us again.
"C'mon guys, look at that ass! I bet if you get a good rhythm going, she could bounce you right through the fucking ceiling!"
That got a more lively laugh out of us, Travis included, but as our laughter faded, we started to get quiet again.
Frank's eyelids began to flutter as he scrolled through his phone. I yawned, then Travis yawned.
Chris finally spoke up and I was hopeful for a moment I could return home to the cozy confines of my warm bed, but those hopes were dashed when he eagerly started in on a new topic of conversation.
"I miss the way it was before smartphones. Remember how much harder it was to see that? I don't know, I guess I miss the work that went into it. The chase, the anticipation. Everything today is just instant gratification.
"Can you imagine if we had smartphones back in school? Fucking Snapchat? These kids coming up today have it all at their fingertips, access to everything with no regulations, no - "
Frank interrupted him.
"These little fuckers don't know how good they have it."
Travis looked at him.
"Well I'm not sure if it's a good thing that it's easier for kids to fuck each other now."
"I'm sure they think it's good."
We all laughed. Chris continued.
"I didn't even have internet until senior year, and even then it was only dial-up.
"Remember porn back then? You would have to wait your turn on the family computer, download a jpeg - forget about video - then print the thing so you could take it to the bathroom or some other private place and spray your pent up urge all over it."
"Eeewww."
"You're fucking sick, Chris."
Chris smiled and went on, unfazed.
"But, in some ways, it was actually better. It kept you from getting spoiled. You couldn't even take porn for granted. And if you wanted to get laid, you couldn't go scrolling through profiles like you were shopping. You had to go out and hunt and sometimes fight for it. The effort you put in made the reward that much greater."
Frank was struggling to focus on Chris, but he seemed to be looking at the wall behind him. He grinned crookedly.
"You like to work hard for that pussy, eh?"
We laughed. Chris continued his polemic against the deadening attributes of modern technology.
"It's not just about sex though.
"Everything comes too easy. Music, movies...
"Remember CDs? Man, I spent so many allowances on CDs when I was a kid. And now they're just clutter taking up space. Who needs them? And remember how different it was watching movies? It was always an event. Now, I can't even finish a movie unless I leave my phone out in the car."
We nodded in agreement.
"You can have anything you want now. You don't even have to go out and seek it, just stay online. Press a button and we'll bring it to you and lay it at your goddamn feet."
Chris paused to finish off his beer. Travis weighed in.
"I see what you mean, Chris, but you can't honestly believe we were better off then than we are now. I know I don't miss paying forty dollars for a CD."
Chris smiled wistfully.
"It's not about the money, it's about the ritual.
"And, back in the day, if a girl I knew showed me a picture of herself like the one on Frank's phone, it would've meant a hell of a lot more to me then than it would now - now it's just normal, a part of the game. And I can only speak for myself, but I think most people our age feel the same."
I had to speak up.
"That's because, back in the day, you were just a kid and a lot more horny and inexperienced. Plus, there were no smartphones and the internet was still a baby.
"Is it really that much of a surprise that once we all got connected and got our new phones, everyone immediately started sending naked pictures to each other? And kids today are born into it. They'll grow up never knowing the difference."
Chris mumbled his response before taking another drink.
"I know the difference."
Frank thought of something and laughed to himself, before adding:
"Hey Chris, remember that time we went to the mall and stole all those disposable cameras, then skipped classes for the day so we could take funny pictures?"
Chris spit out his beer.
"Oh, Fuck!"
Travis looked up from his phone. He wasn't part of our group at that particular time so he was curious.
"What kind of funny pictures?"
Frank and Chris flashed a pair of shit-eating grins. I explained.
"Well we got to school one morning and it was just gorgeous out, far too nice of a day to be in a classroom, so we all decided we were going to skip school and go on some sort of adventure for the day. Frank suggested we go to the supermarket to steal some snacks first.
"While there, we saw a display of disposable cameras and each of us immediately grabbed one without saying anything. We were all on the same wavelength. We knew we wanted to document our antics.
"So we left the supermarket and started brainstorming. The cameras used film so we would have to get the pictures developed. We had enough film for about fifty or sixty pictures. Chris suggested we take nice, wholesome pictures, for the most part, but then sprinkle in some that were x-rated. Then we would take them to the mall to get developed and see what kind of reaction we got. I think we were all kind of expecting them to go unnoticed."
Frank already had tears streaking his cheeks. Travis was on tenderhooks. I continued.
"So we took some group pictures in various places around town. Lots of smiling and wholesomeness; harmless pranks like pretending we were trapped in a freezer at the ice cream shop, pretending to strangle each other, you know, just cheesy stuff. We even went around to restaurants and other businesses close to the school, and said we were taking photos for the yearbook and wanted to get ours taken with the staffs. They all agreed without question, probably a dozen or so places."
A smile began to creep across Travis's face.
"So...what were the x-rated pictures?"
Frank couldn't contain himself and blurted out,
"They took pictures of me jerking off and giving a thumbs-up to the camera!"
Travis face-palmed.
"Jesus Christ."
I added some more details.
"And remember Flip-Flop? Well, we went to his house that day to call on him because we knew he wasn't in school. When we arrived, we didn't go to the door, but went to his bedroom window like usual. Sure enough, he was in there jerking it like there was no tomorrow, so instead of tapping on the window, we quietly took some pictures and left."
Travis's jaw dropped.
"No shit! Did they develop the pictures!?"
"No," I replied smiling. "We sent Frank to retrieve them and the lady gave him an envelope, so we got pretty excited because we thought they were the pictures, but it was actually just our cash back and a copy of some policy stating how they don't deal with obscene material and what-not."
Chris had joined Frank in the laugh-crying by this time. Travis smiled and shook his head.
"You crazy bastards."
We were alive again. I motioned to the bartender, signalling we were ready for another round, then turned to Chris.
"But, even though that was fun, I still love my phone. Just imagine what they'll be like in twenty, thirty years time, especially when you consider exponential returns. We'll probably be teleporting with them or something."
Chris rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Travis added in a faux-thoughtful tone,
"The ol' landlines had their benefits though. Remember how fun prank calls were?"
Frank nearly burst out of his seat.
"Remember when I called Patrick's mom and told her I was a security gaurd at the mall and I caught Patrick stealing?! She was fucking bawling, man! I can't believe she fell for it! I actually felt a little bad for her afterwards."
Chris, with matching energy:
"Oh yeah! I completely forgot about that! I wonder what happened when he got home that day. I don't think we ever talked to him again."
"She definitely beat the shit out of him."
"Yeah, then made him give her a sponge bath."
We roared with laughter.
Then I reminded Frank about the time he pretended to be his own dad and called the school to excuse himself from classes, and had to yell at the principal."
Chris, with furrowed brow:
"I don't remember that."
Frank, sneeringly:
"That's because you were pussy-whipped at the time."
I filled him in.
"Alright, so we skipped classes one day and a few of us hung out at Frank's because his parents were out of town. Frank couldn't miss any more classes or he would fail the term, so he called the school, said he was his dad and that 'Frank' couldn't make it to classes; he was sick with fever. Well, the secretary knew it was really Frank and she put the principal on the phone and said to tell him.
"So Frank told him what he told her and the principal said 'yeah right, nice try Frank, I'll be calling the real Mr. Gunn later this afternoon and having a nice talk with him,' then he hung up.
"So we all kind of looked at each other in panic for a moment, then Frank doubled down, called the principal back and proceeded to loudly claim that he was, in fact, the real Mr. Gunn, and tore a strip off him in the process. The principal immediately started to apologize, but Frank continued to go off on him. There were lots of 'How dare yous?' and 'Where do you get offs?' - the principal was shitting all over himself by the end. It was fucking glorious."
Our drinks were served as the story ended. Chris was banging the table, howling with laughter as the old men looked on with disapproval.
I toasted.
"To shenanigans with friends, and our memories thereof - may we never forget them."
"To shenanigans."
We drank.
The two guys playing pool had finished their game. One went to the bar to have a drink with the old men and I noticed the other one was approaching us.
I recognized him. His name was Alan, and he was not part of our extended group, as he was a couple years older than us. But we knew him from around town. He was a known addict and thief who had done time in prison but had since reformed, supposedly. He had been listening to our conversation and it looked like he had something to add.
"Hey guys, I was listening to your stories. Sounds like you share some great memories together. Are you from the area?"
Travis nodded.
"Yeah, we all grew up in the Bay."
Alan extended his hand.
"Me too. Deacon Street. Down by the old mine."
We each shook his hand in turn, introducing ourselves and pretending we didn't know who he was.
"Anyway, you reminded me of my own story from back when I was a kid growing up around here. It's kind of long, but it's definitely a strange one, if you want to hear it."
We all looked at each other. Travis shrugged.
"Alright man, let's hear it."
So Alan pulled up a chair, sat down, and began.
"There used to be a corner-store where Vernon's Pizza is now. You guys wouldn't remember but it was called Fleabag's. Well it was actually called Judie's, but we all knew it as Fleabag's. This was back in '93, so I would have been ten years old. The store only lasted for a few months. I know it was summer when they first opened and by the time winter came, the place was gone.
"The owner's name was Joe. I never learned his last name. The store was named after his dead mother. Joe was a little man with a large head and thick glasses and he always wore a battered Expos cap that was too small to fit his head and merely sat atop it. He was constantly smoking a fat cigar that stank out the whole place, and he liked to stare.
"He had this creepy old ventriloquist dummy on a stool near the entrance, like a greeter; I think its name was Jonesy or Jamesy or something. It made a lot of people uncomfortable, especially the little kids. Joe also kept a pet parrot named Henry in a cage behind the counter, but the cage was much too small. Henry could barely move and was always making these weird crying sounds. I heard him talk once - and only once - but we'll get to that later.
"So, they sold the usual stuff that corner stores sold back then - mostly candy and cheap, disposable toys, as well as baseball cards and comic books...stuff like that. Of course, they had the staples as well - but the place was always dark and cramped and smelled moldy. The inventory was scattered too, with a lot of the food items expired. I once saw a box of corn flakes there that was out of date by almost two years.
"There were also bondage magazines. Sure, other stores sold porn too, but these were hardcore fetish magazines in a candy store and they weren't hid very well; the top halves of the covers were in plain view, displaying bound and gagged women - and men - in various poses.
"I never saw any fleas, though.
"Most people in the neighborhood avoided the place but my friends and I went there all the time. Not for the cap guns or the wrestling magazines or the five-cent honeymoons, no - we went for what was down in the basement."
There were five or six arcade cabinets down there, a couple pinball machines, a pool table the teenagers used, and some VHS rentals. It was pretty dingy, but it was almost like a clubhouse for us. A small pocket of paradise. Except when the teenagers were around.
"We all used to meet there in the mornings with whatever change our parents had given us and when we were done we would play baseball or go down the reef. Then after supper we would meet there again with our second helpings of quarters. But that's usually when the teenagers would be there hogging Mortal Kombat.
"This one teenager, Dino, was the worst. He was always stealing our quarters and our candy - the asshole even made my friend eat a salamander.
"A boy had gone missing that summer only a few miles away and Dino told my friend, Billy, if he didn't eat the salamander, then he would be the next one to go missing. Billy was developmentally disabled and didn't know any better. I tried to stop it but there were only two of us and Dino had his goons with him. Then he punched Billy's belly and made him puke, while he and his goons walked away laughing.
"I wouldn't let bullies like Dino ruin my summer though. I just started being more cautious. I would still go to the basement at Judie's everyday and play arcade games and look at the movies.
"The movie selection was small, and pretty much all Horror, the covers beckoning and provoking. They may have had a few Van Damme movies and other randoms peppered in but, again, it was mostly Horror. Looking back, that's pretty weird, but as a kid like me who loved horror movies, that could only be great.
"So I convinced my dad to sign us up for a membership so I could rent movies everyday for the rest of the summer. The store was only a few streets over. I don't think I was ever more content than I was during that time of my life. Things will never be that simple again.
"I loved looking at the cover art for the movies. And some of those VHS boxes were huge. I always liked the minimalist covers the most. The cover for Its Alive, featuring a simple image of a bassinet with a monstrous, heavily clawed little hand hanging out the side made me so uneasy I never even got around to seeing the movie until only a few years ago. It's a classic! I would have been a big fan as a kid.
"I also remember being drawn to the covers for House, with the disembodied hand ringing the doorbell, Slaughter High, with its pom-pom wielding cheerleader-skeleton, Ghoulies, with the little monster coming out of the toilet, and of course, Deepstar Six with a bisected deep-sea diver floating to the bottom of the ocean.
"Of course, there was no internet then and the only information you could get about the movie was by studying the cover or reading the plot on back. There were usually screen grabs on back as well. Some of the covers were pretty over the top, and I guess they had to be since that was the only way to sell the movie to potential renters. But, almost always, a badass cover meant a dull movie. Usually the cover had barely anything to do with what was shown on screen. Sometimes you found something interesting though.
"Joe didn't even call to check with my parents when I rented R-rated movies like the videostore on 15th street did. He let me rent whatever I wanted. My parents didn't care either. They weren't horror fans though and I don't think it would've occured to them back then how extreme some of the movies were. They saw Horror as a kids genre. But what kids movie would include a scene which shows a woman giving birth to a full grown man in all its bloody details, or a group of joyriding teens chasing down a little boy and running him over, popping his head like a goddamn watermelon?
"I was only ten and was renting movies like Bloodsucking Freaks regularly. You guys ever see that one? There's a scene where a man drills a hole through a woman's skull, places a straw in the hole, then sucks out her 'brain-juice.' Watching it years later, it's pretty silly. Demented, but silly. But back then, it felt like I was watching something truly evil.
"It didn't take long for Joe to realize I was a huge horror buff and he started making recommendations. I think the first movie he recommended was From Beyond, still one of my favorite 80s movies. It had lots of monsters and gooey gore scenes. There was also a decent amount of S&M which gave my ten-year old self some weird ideas. I loved it though and he kept recommending more movies.
"Some I remember vividly, and some I only remember certain scenes from. Names escape me and some of the memories may be nightmares I mixed up with movies.
"But I think the next one he recommended was Superstition. Hard to forget that one. A head in a microwave, a priest killed by a possessed circular saw, and a giant witch that lived in a pond. Oh, and it's the first movie I saw where everyone died. I thought there were rules against that kind of thing or something."
"Spoilers!" Chris shouted. We laughed but Alan continued on as if he hadn't heard anything.
"So I kept renting movies that Joe would recommend. I remember renting The Deadly Spawn, Burial Ground, Madman - all fun movies that I still watch and enjoy to this day. There's many I don't remember though. It's hazy. I watched so many horror movies that summer. But they kept getting more and more gory, that's for sure. And at a certain point it became more disturbing than fun. They weren't cartoony anymore and were becoming more grim and serious. They all kind of bled into each other though and I've forgotten most of the titles.
"I just remember these crazy scenes like a woman getting her nipple bisected by a killer with a Donald Duck voice, a guy getting 'wishboned' by a tribe of wildmen, cannibals turning a guy's rib-cage into a grill, and a woman getting crotched with a giant fishhook...
"You know, stuff like that."
We were starting to get uncomfortable but Alan kept going.
"Eventually, I ran through most of the horror titles. Then Joe gave me a history lesson on SOV movies. He didn't call them that but he told me all about the video revolution and how people were getting their own cameras and shooting their own movies on video. It was a gold rush, he said. Joe told me about movies like Nailgun Massacre and 7 Doors of Death, and many others I've since forgotten about.
"Many production companies sprung up overnight during the late 80s/early 90s video boom. And many folded after releasing only a couple movies. VCRs had reached peak popularity and the prices were becoming more affordable, so there was this explosion of amateur moviemakers trying to make it in the business, and God knows what kind of shit is still out there undiscovered. Horror has always been what sells, so, naturally, this was the dominant genre in the SOV market. But talent is always rare.
"Joe soon told me about his son, Walter. Apparently, Walter got involved in the SOV business himself and produced his own horror movie. He pointed to a portrait on the wall behind him of a younger version of himself.
" "That's my boy Walter. He always wanted to make movies, even before he was your age - but he only got to make one. He died before he could make another. The stupid fuck was hit by a bus.
" "I bought him a super 8 camera when he was just a kid and he used to make these elaborate torture pits in the backyard with his GI Joes and he would film it. He would spend hours and hours out there mimicking their screams and making the sound effects. Sometimes he would burn them when he was done. That kid cost me a fortune on toys.'"
"I stared at the portrait on the wall. He was identical to Joe. The only things missing were the Expos cap and the cigar.
"Then Joe handed me a VHS tape that he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. It was called Tales of the Macabre. The cover had this crudely drawn, laughing skull-face spanning the horizon of a blood-red sky, and blood was raining down on the terrified citizenry of a suburban landscape, causing them to melt into puddles of gore! It was an awesome cover, very primitive but alive. It looked like the cover of a death metal album. It wasn't kept on display with the other movies, because I definitely would have remembered it.
"Joe hyped it.
" "This is the movie Walter made. It's the only copy in existence. The kid may have been stupid but he had an eye for cinema. He was a true artist.
" "Watch it tonight and let me know what you think. Don't let your parents see this one though - we'll both get in trouble."
"Well that sold me. So I rented the movie, bought a bag of honeymoons and two bottles of pop, and began to leave. When I was halfway out the door, the parrot cried out in a frantic voice.
" "I want my mom!"
"I paused for a moment but didn't look back. A shudder passed through me and I left the store, wondering why the parrot would say such a thing.
"I also remember this dirty white Oldsmobile passed me on the way back a couple times, but I wasn't too worried because I was so close to my house. My mom was on the step waiting for me. She was still paranoid about the missing boy and wanted me in before dark. I didn't tell her about the Oldsmobile because I didn't think it was a big deal at the time.
"When I got inside, I called my friend Brian to invite him over for the night. He lived a few doors down and was there soon after.
"We went to my room and played Skate or Die on the Nintendo for a while and ate all the candy and drank all the pop. Mom brought us pizza for a late supper and then it was time watch Tales of the Macabre. Somehow, Brian was asleep before it was even done rewinding. I didn't mind. I liked watching horror movies alone.
"I did make sure to draw a penis on his forehead, though.
"The movie began with low, ominous music over a black screen. This went on for about two minutes before the music abruptly stopped and we jumped into the first scene, cold.
"There were no opening credits or title cards.
"The scene opened in a basement labratory with a screaming woman tied to a gurney and a mad-doctor type looming over her and ranting about something. I don't remember what. But it seemed to suggest some kind of catastrophe had happened and most of the human race was wiped out. We never left the labratory setting though. There were also two cheap looking robots that assisted the doctor. It was pretty boring and not much happened. I forget how it ended, but I remember I was about to shut it off before the next tale started and the movie changed gears dramatically.
"It was an animated segment! It was like the cover: a giant laughing skull spanned the horizon of a blood-red sky as blood rained down on people, and they ran this way and that in utter panic and chaos; the blood-rain causing them to melt as if it was acid. They melted screaming and clutching each other, piles of smoking red goop, the images flashing across my screen in a quick edit of gore and carnage. Like I said, the animation was pretty crude but the pure ambition of it was impressive.
"As a kid, I thought it was awesome.
"But then the scene was jarringly interrupted by a delayed white noise visual, like it was recorded over. This lasted a few seconds before we cut to a prowling night-time shot outside a house. The camera slowly approached a window and I could hear the cameraman's breathing.
"This was getting very weird, all of a sudden.
"When he got to the window, there was a woman in a kitchen preparing food while holding a telephone receiver between her shoulder and chin. The cameraman lingered briefly before moving on to the next window.
"There were three boys, about my age, playing Nintendo in one of their bedrooms. I remember they were playing Punch Out. The camaraman's breathing rate was increasing, along with my own. Even then, I knew this wasn't a real movie. This was something else. Something criminal.
"The woman from the kitchen entered with a pizza and the camera jerked away violently; the cameraman's breathing became sickeningly loud at this point. His panic was palpable. The camera briefly displayed a wooded area located at the edge of a big backyard. They seemed to be in a pretty isolated location.
"After a moment, the cameraman regained his composure and we returned to the boys. They had turned off the Nintendo and were eating pizza now. Well, two of them were. The other one was trying to eat his slice but the others wouldn't let him. They kept pushing him away and laughing.
"Then the two boys put their pizzas down and began further antagonizing the other. I couldn't hear what they were saying, I could only hear the cameraman's labored breathing. But they were obviously bullying him by his demeanor and theirs; his gaze was cast down while their eyes fixed on him in malicious glee.
"Suddenly, they held him down and ripped his shirt off as he struggled madly. One of them produced two skipping ropes from under the bed and their faces darkened as the other boy cowered and pleaded. The cameraman was in a frenzy by this time. I had to turn the volume down, his breathing was so loud.
"The two boys began whipping the other with their skipping ropes. Slowly at first, one at a time, but soon they were out of control. The victim was hugging the wall, trying to disappear, as they unleashed their juvenile aggression all over him, his back becoming a crimson canvas.
"He was begging mercy but trying to appear as if he was having fun. It was confusing and heartbreaking. He was trying to smile and appear game but the tears ran channels in his cheeks.
"It was too authentic. I felt like I shouldn't be watching.
"They finally wore themselves out. The camera remained fixed on them as they lay on the floor in exhaustion. Within a minute, they were back up and behaving as if the skipping rope incident had never happened.
"The boy who had just been whipped mercilessly began hooking up a VCR to the TV as the other two watched him. They must have been bullying him in his own home. He was in visible agony and moved slowly, his hands untangling the wires with great care. When he was done, one of the aggressors fished a videotape from his backpack and handed it to him.
"The boy put the tape in the VCR. It was a top-loader, just like my grandmother used to have. The screen snowed briefly before turning to black and the low ominous music began. The same music from earlier. The scene cut abruptly before I could see what, exactly, they were watching.
"My heart skipped a beat.
"The camera perspective had changed to a static shot from behind the TV, facing the kids. A hidden camera. They all had confused expressions but their faces were glued to the screen.
"It was the window behind them that had caused my sudden shock.
"There was a man in the window and he was smiling a ghastly smile at the camera, and thus myself. It was Joe's son, Walter. It was unmistakable. He didn't take his eyes off me as he sloooowly slid the window up, mugging for the camera the boys were unaware of.
"I instinctively spun around and looked out my window.
"Nothing was there. My window also faced the backyard and was situated almost exactly like the one I was watching. I turned back to the screen.
"Walter lifted his brows high and opened his eyes wide in mock concern as he continued sliding the window up. His mouth made an O shape as the window went higher, before returning to that ghastly grin. He seemed to be really enjoying it. His eyes remained fixed on me the whole time.
"The boys remained focused on the TV; their faces by this time were contorted into horrified expressions, but their eyes remained locked, unable to look away.
"The window was open wide. Walter began to enter. He started to slide one of his little legs into the room as the boys continued to gaze at the screen in trance-like horror, unaware of the danger behind them.
"I spun around again.
"And there he was.
"The window was already open and Walter was slowly sliding one of his little legs through the threshold and into my bedroom, as he grinned at me in a wild-eyed frenzy.
"I tried to scream but nothing came out. My whole body locked up and I couldn't move for a moment. Walter continued his creeping advance, his grin becoming unnaturally wide.
"I finally snapped out of it and rushed to Brian and began shaking him, crying for help as my voice returned. My parents burst into the room within seconds, before Brian was even fully awake.
"Walter was gone by this time.
"I tried to explain what happened but I was so worked up, I could barely get the words out. Once my dad heard it was about the video I rented, he immediately shut the whole situation down. He called Brian's parents to come get him and immediately banned me from horror movies for the rest of the summer. Both my parents thought I just scared myself with an overdose of horror movies and wouldn't hear me out further. They wouldn't even call the police.
"My dad returned the tape to the video-store the next day. I begged him to watch it but he refused. Even years later, whenever I bring it up, he brushes it off and says it was just a movie. My mom doesn't like to talk about it, but I think she believes me now. However, she didn't at the time.
"And I don't think Brian ever believed me. We didn't hang out much after that. In fact, within a few months of that night, we had stopped talking altogether.
"Even I started to doubt myself, eventually."
Alan stopped and took a long drink. We all did the same before we fell silent for a moment.
Travis looked at Alan.
"So what happened after that? Did you ever rent it again?"
Alan looked off into the distance as he spoke.
"No. I told my friends about it, of course, but when they tried to rent it, it wasn't there. Everyone thought I just scared myself. I wasn't allowed to rent movies there anymore, and I avoided the place altogether, for fear of Joe and his twisted offspring.
"Like I said, the place closed up shop by winter. Who knows where they ended up? I always wondered how the movie ended though. What happened to those boys?"
Frank laughed.
"Why don't you just Google it?"
Alan cocked an eyebrow at him before continuing.
"Well - back in the early 2000s, when I discovered the web, I began looking for the movie. There was no IMDB page for it, and no one seemed to have heard of it on the horror message boards. But when I posted a message on the cult film message boards, I got a bite.
"I posted a simple message asking if anyone had heard of or seen the movie. I didn't provide any backstory of myself or my experience with it.
"Then someone calling themselves Anton_79 said he had rented the movie back in the 80s and that it was 'decent but forgettable.' He didn't even provide a proper review, let alone claim any weird experiences. So I messaged back asking what segment he liked best and if anything weird had happened when he rented the movie. Instead of answering my question, he asked his own question.
"He asked if I lived in Crystal Bay."
We all looked at each other.
"Holy shit!" Chris whispered.
Alan went on.
"So I closed my account immediately. That was too close to home and I wanted nothing to do with it. I had a baby coming at the time. I didn't want to mess around with this demented father-son duo. I didn't know what they were capable of.
"But I was always curious about the movie. Was this just a failed marketing stunt? A found footage experiment that was too early and too bizarre to catch on? Did I really see a face in the window?
"I always come back to the same conclusion though. It was all too real.
"About a year after the IMDB incident I felt the urge to look for the movie again. I began checking ebay periodically. Even if Joe was telling the truth, and there was only one copy in existence, there could be bootlegs out there. And who knows? The original could always turn up.
"And, of course, if this is the kind of movie I think it is, then it would be considered evidence and I could turn it over to the authorities.
"After a few months of scouring ebay, I finally came across a copy for sale. I forget the seller's handle, but it was a bootleg, sure enough. This was back in the early days of ebay, so you would have to contact the seller and work out the arrangements between yourselves. The sale was more personal then.
"Anyway, I messaged the seller and told them I would be sending a cheque the following day. They replied almost immediately and asked for my address, saying they would send it out that very day - even though they had not received any payment yet. This made me uneasy. I literally got goosebumps when I read the message. I did not want to give this person my address, something felt wrong.
"So I cancelled the sale and closed my account.
"This was almost twenty years ago. I have another ebay account now, of course. And I still search for the movie occasionally - but I've never seen it up for sale again, not even a bootleg copy.
"I've scoured various online communities, even the most awful ones, and it seems like no one has even heard of this movie, let alone seen it. I know it's out there though."
Alan fell silent with the rest of us. He seemed relieved, like he had kept the story to himself for far too long. He needed to unburden and we were the perfect excuse. He took another drink.
Frank broke the silence.
"Are you fucking with us?"
We laughed. Alan smiled and shook his head.
"I'm afraid not."
"Damn," Chris mumbled.
"Last call!"
Alan got up.
"Well guys, I better head out then. It was nice meeting you. Hope you have a good night. Get home safe eh."
I extended my hand to Alan again.
"You too, man. See you around."
Travis slapped him on the back.
"Fucked up story, dude. You're right though, that was definitely a weird one. Take care, eh."
Alan grinned.
"Yeah, I thought you guys would like that one."
He addressed us one last time.
"Alright guys, have a good one."
He met his friend over at the bar for a final drink as the old men began putting their jackets on.
Frank laughed dismissively.
"He's full of shit. You guys believe that?"
Chris thought of something and piped up.
"Hey Frank, remember that time you found your dad's VHS porn stash? I'm pretty sure that was the first time we ever watched a porno."
Frank laugh-snorted.
"Yeah! It was a murder-mystery, like a porn version of Clue - it was called The Butler Did It."
Frank and Chris were falling over themselves with laughter. Travis let out a deep sigh. Alan and his friend had left by this time.
I took a long last drink of my beer, gazing at the ceiling as I did so, the ceiling fans slowly making their way to a stand-still. It was almost time to leave. My warm bed was beckoning as I sat there melting into the chair, in the wee hours, in a back corner of the Crimson club.
submitted by Buzzo2020 to nosleep [link] [comments]

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