In my eternal quest to discover how I should spend the rest of my life, I have made another choice. I have decided NOT to become a professional gambler. Recent evidence has demonstrated with virtual certainty that in games of chance, if I did not have bad luck, I would have no luck at all. I know that sounds like a line stolen from a blues song, but it is true.
The recent venture to Suffolk Downs (where Seabiscuit was first spotted by his legendary trainer) yielded a big flat negative gain. None of my cleverly worked out 'systems' - designed to select high-paying winners - was successful. I would have done better to go with interesting names (eg 35-1 longshot named "Trailer Trash" - which paid about $75.00. I, of course, bet on another horse, named something like "She-can-win".)
Also, last week I donated a tidy portion of my unemployment check to the Native American Fund, aka Mohegan Sun. (Hey, here's an idea for the Jesse Jackson gang, looking for economic justice - lobby for permits to open Casinos. That's where you can confiscate some serious reparations.)
Anyhow, gambling is not for me. I have invested in Lottery tickets, scratch tickets, football pools, and none of them has paid me back. Roulette, video poker, slot machines all have failed to return anything since that big ($1,000) hit three years ago when I got a royal straight flush on video poker. I'm sure I have given every penny back to those murderous savages.
No, my future is in commerce. Thus, I will redouble my efforts to obtain a traditional job at outrageous wages. Like a surfer, waiting for the perfect wave, I scan the horizon patiently, searching for that perfect opportunity, hoping there are no maneating sharks in the water to chew on my ambitions.
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