Is Matched Betting A Scam? Is Risk Free Money Possible?

Spoilers through episode 6.08
This is a subject I posted about almost a year ago, and after my current rewatch there was a lot more I saw and needed to add.
When it comes to the bones and who they belonged to, one very overlooked point of view is Jennifer Reddington.
As the woman who was put into WITSEC as a child and then hidden later by Ian Garvey, she has an interesting perspective. A deeper look into her words and actions may show that Jennifer wasn't as straightforward forward a character as people might think.
We hear about this daughter of Raymond Reddington early on, but don't meet her until late season five. Jennifer was only in about 8 episodes and then leaves fairly soon after. There is limited information to go on, but her role in the mythology can't be ignored.
A little history leading up to Jennifer's entry into the story:
Jennifer lived with her mother in witness protection from early 1991 through 2007 when she was moved by Garvey for reasons unknown and the US Marshal service lost contact with her. We are told conflicting stories and don't know if her mother sent her away because she knew of a present danger, or if Jennifer decided to leave on her own.
Around the same time that the bones are dug up and Garvey got an alert to a CODIS match in 2017, he also moves Jennifer again and gives her another identity. When Liz walks into the bar in 2019 and crashes into Jennifer's life, she had been hiding in fear of her father for almost 30 years.
What needs to be added to Jennifer's point of view leading up to this moment, is that in 2018 Frank Hyland tracked her down to let her know that her mother was killed the year before in 2017. He gives her the story of her mother being taken and tortured by one of Reddington's enemies, her finger cut off and a tooth pulled out. Frank tells her that Reddington rescued her mother and hid them with new identities.
Now Garvey also knows this in 2018 and that seems to be the turning point of his motivations changing from controlling Reddington's power to wanting the whole truth.
What did Garvey know about the disappearance of Naomi back in 2014? He would have known about the attack on the home of Frank and Naomi when it happened. US Marshals were killed in that attack, and the couple would have been gone without a trace. That would have been a mystery to Garvey until he heard the story of what really happened in 2018. Was Jennifer told her mother was taken in a violent confrontation and had disappeared in 2014?
Now Garvey has to be wanting some answers because once he starts thinking about things, he's going to know he's been lied to. What he may realize very quickly is that Naomi was never afraid of her ex-husband. Garvey had been protecting her, and especially Jennifer, for 30 years for no reason. Reddington wasn't a danger to them, but risked his life to rescue Naomi and hide her. There must have been some kind of large scale con pulled on him and the US government by the Reddington family.
We don't hear much from Garvey to Jennifer about Reddington. Before the scene in the bar, he told her:
"You don't need to be protected from him anymore. Not after tomorrow."
What u/fran_oliveira pointed out was very perceptive, that the word "anymore" implied that Garvey believed Red was the same man he had always been protecting her from. Not a fake Reddington, but the man Garvey always thought was a danger to Jennifer.
Regarding the bones and who they were to Jennifer, Garvey doesn't say much more. All he says to her is:
"Everything you believed for the last 30 years has been a lie. You've spent a lifetime hiding for no reason."
If Garvey believed those bones belonged to RR, and Red was an imposter who stole RR'S identity, wouldn't Jennifer be in even more danger from Red? Wouldn't she be living proof that could destroy his entire charade? Red's reputation in the criminal world was of a ruthless killer. From Garvey's POV, he would certainly have no problem killing an innocent person who threatened his way of life (Like Detective Singleton or the witness to his murder). So he would assume Red was the same way and would have killed Jennifer if he found her.
If Garvey knew Red wasn't RR, but the man who stole his identity, he wouldn't tell Jennifer she had been hiding for no reason. He would have hidden her even further. While Red as her father could still be a danger for her, an imposter of her father would be even more so.
A great point from u/TessaBissolli needs to be added about that scene in the bar in 5.19. When Liz, Red and Dembe all have their guns drawn, and Jennifer steps between Red and Garvey, Garvey isn't concerned at all that Red would harm Jennifer. He's supposed to have been the US Marshal in charge of her protection for the last 30 years, and he's believed he's been protecting her all this time from Reddington. But what Garvey does is not reflective of him believing Red is a threat to Jennifer at all. He knows now the man won't hurt her. His actions do not fit a belief that Red is an imposter of her father.
What did Jennifer know about the duffel bag that Garvey had that Red and Liz were racing to find? At the outset, it seems like Jennifer is an innocent victim in the power struggle to get the bones. Leading up to the confrontation in the bar, Liz asks Jennifer if she knew about the bag:
"Did Garvey ever mention that duffel bag? Did he tell you where it might be? A locker? A storage unit?"
Jennifer's reply was curious:
"I-I don't know. Maybe."
Did Jennifer already know about the duffle bag from Garvey and where it was? It sounds like she does in her response. Jennifer asks him before Liz and Red show up:
"The duffel bag... Why is it so important?"
Jennifer may have not yet gotten her hands on the bag, but I'll bet she knew where Garvey had left it for her.
Once Red knew that Jennifer was the reason Garvey wanted this whole truth, he knew the man would have had plans in place to get the bones to Jennifer or Naomi. We know that Red had a severe concussion from the car accident and had been shot by Garvey, but as soon as he could he had surveillance put on Jennifer to see if and when she got the duffle bag:
"He's on her person and her phone?"
"Yes, and checking in more often than my mother before the cancer got her. If Jennifer visits Naomi or calls her, we'll know."
"Garvey must have had a death switch in place... a way to get one of them the bag. We just need to find out what that is."
Once Garvey had been killed, did Jennifer retrieve that bag and find out the results of the DNA test? There's no way to be certain, but from her response to Liz, it does seem as if she knew where it was. Was Garvey's trip down to Costa Rica really to give Sutton Ross the bones, or was it a charade, a trail to lead Reddington away from Jennifer getting the duffle bag?
Let's see if we can tell who Jennifer believes Red is through this whole situation.
What does she say to Red that can help determine whether she thinks he's her father or an imposter?
When Jennifer steps in front of Garvey in the bar, she clearly believes that Red is the father she remembered:
"Look at me. Anything? I'm your daughter. The one you abandoned 28 years ago on Christmas Eve. Did you think of me at all? In my pink room, in my pink pajamas, waiting for Santa. When I went to sleep, my world was perfect, and when I woke up, it was destroyed. My daddy gone. Did he just leave? Was it an accident? We didn't know. All we knew was my daddy... my good, kind, and decent daddy... was gone. And then come to find out you weren't good or kind or decent. You were a traitor. And we were sent into hiding. From you. From my father."
We know that sometime after Garvey is killed, Red goes to Jennifer asking about the duffel bag. He wants to know how to find her mother. Jennifer claims Garvey didn't give her a bag and she doesn't know where it is, though that's not really the impression she gave Liz. We don't know if she's telling the truth, but Jennifer is very angry and bitter at Red even if she shows no fear of him. While she says she has no interest in seeing him, she does contact him later to meet. Jennifer says she wants answers to some questions.
Here in the scene in the restaurant, all of what Jennifer says to Red indicates she believed Red was Reddington and her father. Jennifer says she has questions she needs him to answer. Jennifer seems to be looking for the answers to why she and her mother were put in WITSEC and why her father abandoned her.
Red tries to explain that he was framed by the Cabal:
Red: "The Cabal is the one I stumbled across and tried to destroy. To prevent that, they tried to destroy me."
All of her responses here show that she thinks Red is the father who abandoned her and her mother.
Jennifer: "How does you getting targeted by a scary group of people who think they rule the world explain why you abandoned us?"
Red: "In 1990, the KGB and the CIA had almost nothing in common except the mutual determination to hunt down one individual." (The audience knows he's talking about Katarina Rostova)
Jennifer: "You." (She assumes this is Red)
Red: "Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth. And anyone close to a target of theirs becomes a target themselves."
Jennifer: "Family"
Red: "Especially family."
Jennifer: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
Red: "Put where the Cabal wouldn’t find you."
Jennifer is telling Red that she believes he was the person being hunted by the CIA and KGB. If she knew and had seen that her father was dead in the duffle bag, she wouldn't have thought that the man sitting in front of her was the man who was her father in 1990. Not only does she not differentiate between Red and her father as the same man being hunted by two superpowers, she also says she is the family of his who was abandoned.
When Jennifer tells Red that she will take him to Naomi, what she says to him in the cemetery also makes it clear she believes Red is her father:
"You didn't abandon us to protect us. You just abandoned us. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I know what it's like to have somebody love me so much they would rather cut ties than see me hurt. My mom did that. And not by slinking out in the middle of the night, by sitting me down when I was in college and patiently explaining how terrified she was of you, that one day you'd want back in my life, that you'd force her to tell you where I was. To protect me from that, from you, she walked out of my life."
Jennifer believes Red is the father who abandoned her and her mother. She left to avoid having her father come back into her life.
By the end of the season, the audience is led to believe that now Jennifer has seen inside the duffel bag and knows Red is no longer her father but an imposter. That's the truth that she wants to tell Liz.
We don't know when Jennifer had gotten her hands on the bag of bones and the DNA report, even though she seemed to know where it was. If Garvey really took the duffle bag to Ross, why didn't he bring it to Jennifer? Why a big scam to have Liz and the FBI arrest him and put on a big show to have Liz fake abducted? Couldn't Jennifer bring the bag of bones to Liz's apartment and give her this truth? That's not what happens. Instead there's an elaborate ruse to fake kidnap Liz, hold her fake hostage, and make Red exchange himself for her freedom, with a lot of heightened emotions and compromised decision making.
What u/HolyHavoc pointed out was also something I missed in the reveal of the DNA report to Liz. When Tom got the duffle bag with the report from Garvey, the envelope had a big label that read "DNA Results" on it. Garvey took that bag and had it over a year without doing anything with it. We see Garvey on tape handing a bag to Ross and we see the bag when Jennifer shows the report to Liz. So why is the envelope she hands Liz blank? We are supposed to believe that Jennifer found out the truth right before Liz, that Red wasn't her father, but it's not the same envelope. Did Jennifer have the real bag all along and get Ross to help sell the con to Liz? A fake DNA report convincing Liz that Red wasn't her father would be the perfect plan for Jennifer to payback the father she hated and the sister her father loved.
Another important point that needs to be looked at comes from u/TessaBissolli in her previous posts. When Jennifer slammed the door in Red's face in 5.20, or agreed to meet him at the restaurant, she was never afraid of the man. Jennifer was very bitter and angry with Red for what she believed was his abandonment of her and her mother. She blamed him for all of the past, but she wasn't afraid he was going to harm her. Jennifer had heard the story from Frank about Red rescuing and saving her mother. She knew now that they had never been hiding from him. That's why she met with him and tried to question Red as to why they had been hidden all those years. They hadn't been in hiding because her mother was afraid of him.
So then why did Jennifer make believe she was scared Red would kill her in 5.22, or have to hide in the closet at Liz's apartment in 6.02? Jennifer tells Liz when Red comes to her door:
"You can't let him in. He can't see me."
Why can't Red see Liz and Jennifer hanging out together? Jennifer certainly isn't afraid of Red after just spending time speaking to him a few episodes ago. Was this act of fear all for Jennifer to sell this charade to convince Liz that Red was an imposter? Jennifer is definitely not being honest here with Liz.
Through all of the episodes we see Jennifer in going into season 6, she is supposedly helping Liz find out the truth of who this man is who's stolen her father's identity. That's what she tells Liz at least. Jennifer encourages Liz to betray Red and put him in prison so he can't interfere with their search for the truth. She helps Liz find the fire at the Rehoboth Beach house where they both spent time. She helps Liz find the date on the deleted Koehler file, and track down Renard.
But...Jennifer isn't honest with Liz through all this. We don't hear her telling Liz anything about her mother or their past together. Jennifer is very closed-mouthed on her and her mother's history. Nothing about family, or friends, no places they lived. Jennifer never tells Liz her mother is supposed to be dead?
Once Jennifer is taken and beaten, she finds out that Katarina Rostova arranged the procedure for Mr. Reddington. She wants Liz and Ressler to go back and try to find Renard after she tells Liz that the woman knew the name Katarina Rostova:
"She knew the name. I could see it in her eyes."
"That doesn't make any sense. Why would my mother help some imposter become Raymond Reddington?"
"I don't know. But Renard does. She knows more than she's saying. You have to get her. And I can get us there."
Jennifer was very eager to get answers from Renard, but when it's clear that she's gone, that Red got to the woman, she chooses to leave for reasons unknown.
Here is what she tells Liz, and I think most people miss what Jennifer is implying:
"I spent my whole life running from Reddington because I didn't want his world bleeding into mine."
"We are so close."
"Yeah, but to what? To becoming him? I was always so afraid of what he might do to me and my mother, and now I'm equally afraid of what he's making me want to do to him."
We are supposed to believe that Jennifer has been working with Liz to find out who this man is that stole her father's identity and ruined his good name. All of what she's done is to find out the truth because she believes Red isn't her father.
So then why does Jennifer make no distinction between the man she's been running from her whole life and Red?
"I spent my whole life running from Reddington...I was always so afraid of what he might do to me and my mother, and now I'm equally afraid of what he's making me want to do to him."
If Jennifer thinks Red isn't her father, then why do her words say she does? To Liz's response that they're so close, Jennifer says:
:Yeah, but to what? To becoming him?"
If Jennifer really saw a DNA report stating her father is dead, why does she seem to believe Red is that man she lived her life in fear of? Why is she worried about becoming a man she isn't related to, or hasn't been with most of her life? If he isn't her father, then she's spent around an hour with this guy. That would be silly.
While Jennifer may have seemed to be a minor player in these events, and many believe her role is finished, I'm not so sure. Jennfer was a very shady character who was working on her own agenda, similar to what we see with blond Kat in season seven. All of the information Liz got about the Rehoboth Beach fire, about the deleted Koehler file, about the DNA report...all of it came from Jennifer.
I have a feeling we will be seeing Jennifer again soon.

I uploaded my first video on July 29, 2019
I got approved for monetization on December 16, 2019
I hit the 5,000 sub mark this morning (August 24, 2020)
I am not going to rehash on all the advice you've seen on this sub a million times. I will just try to say what I believe is important

• This sub is a beating. By that, I mean, 90%+ of the posts I see on this sub are those of you focusing/worrying about shit that doesn't matter. Things that aren't worth getting worried about or focusing on. Who cares if you got one random dislike? Who cares about the algorithm? Who cares if you got a spam comment? Who cares about what time of the day you upload videos or what day of the week you post them on? Which leads me to....
• The only thing that matters is CONTENT. Your content has to provide value. Time is money. Your videos need to be enticing enough that viewers are willing to spend their time on your videos. If your videos provide no value, they will get no views. It's a lot like TindeBumble and other dating apps. You can blame the algorithm, luck, and everything else all you want - if you aren't getting matches and dates, its because your pictures suck. Same with YouTube. If you are getting no views and subs, its because your videos suck. It has nothing to do with time of the day, hour of the day, algorithim, or any of that. If you build it, they will come. All the worrying you do about shit that doesn't matter, channel it into focusing on your content
• My niche is sports betting. I am a data scientist by profession and have been programming sports betting models/systems for 8+ years. I've known for years that sports betting YouTube is a cespit of scams, lies, and trash. 50% of the channels are self promoting pick selling/touting scams, the other 50% are simply self absorbed vanity videos where the creator says "Here are my picks, here is how great I am, here is all the money I am winning". AKA videos that don't help anyone. So I came in with a mission with my channel. My mission was to serve the grossly underserved niche of sports betting of giving advice, tutorials and information that actually can be helpful. I created programming tutorials, taught concepts, and gave actual truth/realistic expectations about sports betting with zero self promotion.
• Ask yourself: What do I do best? And among the YouTube niche of what I do best, what parts of that niche are underserved? If you can firmly answer both of those questions, you might have a winning formula on YouTube. They say if you have spent 10,000 hours on something, you are a master at it. What have you spent 10,000 hours on?
• You know how often I look at my stats, sub count, and analytics? NEVER. The only stats I look at is my CPM/revenue. I only know what my sub count is because YouTube emails me when I hit certain milestones. I have not once ever looked at my individual video view counts, my CTR%, my retention %, or any of that. This may not be good advice. But I create videos that I believe would be helpful for my viewers. Then I upload them. I don't let my analytics dictate what I create. Maybe I could be more successful if I did look at my analytics, but honestly it doesn't matter to me. If you truly are an expert in your niche, you'll know what videos need to be created and its up to the viewers to watch them or not.
• So many of you act like your life will drastically change and everything will be unicorns & rainbows once you get monetized. My CPM has fluctuated between $10-$12 and my latest deposit from AdSense was $175. Maybe $175 a month will be life changing money for you but you need to be realistic about what you will actually make from monetization. Especially if your CPM is a fraction of what mine is in the gaming niches.
• I didn't do much promotion of my videos when I first launched. I posted a couple comments on /sportsbook and a college football analytics subreddit and that's it. From there word of mouth helped. A major message board for fans of a sports team that I have never posted on also picked up on my channel which led to a lot of external views too. Again, if you build it they will come, promoting your videos is only something you should do out of the gate, at the appropriate places and without being annoying. I've promoted my channel exactly once since the first month of my channel, which was back in January where I advertised a video on the sportsbook subreddit highlighting my video tutorial on how to make a detailed bet tracking spreadsheet in Excel. No promotion since.
• When I launched my channel I uploaded my first 6 videos at the same time. I think it is better to do it this way instead of just uploading one video. Since I uploaded 6, I was able to create a library of 6 well rounded videos for my audience to watch right out of the gate and get a feel for what the content would be like on the channel, instead of just uploading one and having them forget about me quickly. If you only have one video at launch people might think you are a one video wonder and won't subscribe, but since I had 6, people subscribed since I already had a library.
• Don't try to make videos on subjects you are not well versed in. For example I could easily expand my audience big time if I made videos about soccer, but I never watch soccer nor have I ever bet on soccer. It's more about the integrity of my channel. I'd rather leave viewers on the table and not make videos about a subject, than gain those viewers by making crappy videos on the subject.
• My equipment is a Sony RX100V for stationary indoor filming, a DJI Osmo Pocket for outdoomobile filming, Adobe Premiere Pro for editing, a Blue Yeti microphone for indoor audio, a Zoom H1N with a lav mic for mobile audio, and a ring light + tripod for indoor lighting. I've used the same equipment from day 1 without any additional purchases. Content is king and it doesn't matter what equipment you use as long as your content is valuable. Don't think you need to spend $2000 on a camera, although I do think Premiere Pro and a decent editing PC is worth the investment
• I create my Thumbnails in PowerPoint and export it as a PNG. With all the text editing options, icons, clip art, and such, its ideal for making thumbnails
• I do vlog occasionally but it has to tie into my niche somehow. Since my niche is sports betting, my vlogs are usually centered around when I travel to Las Vegas. If you can't tie a vlog into your niche, its going to be difficult for those videos to gain traction, especially early, because why would anyone care about your life. Once you've built up a good following of viewers you can start to do off topic videos outside of your niche because they like you for your personality just as much as they do your content and therefore they might care about your life.
• I've been approached by plenty of potential sponsors but have turned them all down. My brand is very important to me as one of the cornerstones of my brand is truth and trust. My viewers like my channel because they know I am not trying to swindle or mislead them(like most Sports Betting channels do) so I am not going to endorse a product that is shady or something I personally would not use. It's not worth risking your brand just for a couple hundred dollars to do a shoutout for a product that doesn't have a stellar reputation
• This might be controversial but I feel like its important to take care of yourself and always look presentable infront of the camera if you are going to be on camera in your videos. By that I mean I make sure I am appropriately dressed with clothes that fit, groomed, in shape. I take care of my body and exercise, lift, eat right, and stay in shape. I don't want to look like an unhealthy slob infront of the camera. Like it or not if you want your channel to grow you need to make sure you are marketing yourself as well along with the content and part of marketing yourself is to be as presentable as possible. Viewers get this too. If two people create the same content, but one is in shape and neatly groomed and presentable, and the other is out of shape wearing baggy clothes with greasy messy hair, the viewers will choose the first one.

Part 1/3 - Robinhood:
Let's start with Robinhood.
And no, not the legendary outlaw who robbed the rich to give to the poor.
Robinhood made around $100 million from selling its customer order flow in the first quarter of this year.
This means that Robinhood is selling retail order flow to hedge funds, who can then use high frequency trading algorithms to front run the trades.
Citadel, a hedge fund which manages a cool $32 billion, paid Robinhood almost $50 million in Q1 2020 just for its order flow.
Billionaire investor Chamath Palihapitiya described the practice as "shady AF".
So basically, Citadel takes free money via the New York Fed's overnight Repos, places huge leverage bets (which may or may not blow up - who cares anyway!), but gets to buy order flow from Robinhood to front run retail, then the US Treasury issues checks to retail, who buy stocks via Robinhood, and the circle of 'capitalism' is complete.
This is why Ken Griffin can buy $238 million condos. Citadel know who is leveraged, they know where all the stops are and they trade against everybody. And of course the SEC is bought and paid for.
​
Part 2/3 - Shoeshine Time:
After making good money owning stocks in the roaring bull market of the 1920s, Joseph Kennedy Sr. found himself needing to get his shoes polished.
While sitting in the chair, Kennedy Sr. was shocked to have the shoeshine boy gift him with several tips on which stocks he should own.
Kennedy Sr. quickly went back to his office and started unloading his stock portfolio.
In fact, he didn't just get out of the market - he aggressively shorted it - and got filthy rich during the epic crash that followed.
Fast forward to today, and we have the Buy High Sell Low Kings, CNBC's Fast Money, talking about the Rise of the Day Trader.
We have a record number of Wall Street professionals saying the S&P is overvalued.
We have Jerome trying his best to keep the market propped up.
We have Hertz pumping nearly 1000% after filing for bankruptcy.
We are clearly at the death throes of the market cycle.
​
Part 3/3 - Hedge Funds:
Let me tell you the fascinating story of Ke Xu, a Chinese quant.
Xu studied maths at Cambridge, by the way one of the most competitive courses in the world, and graduated third in a class of 250.
He then worked at Goldman Sachs, got bored and in 2012 joined the relatively secretive quant hedge fund G-Research.
He spent his days writing code in G-Research's "secure zone", which could be entered only through a special pod with a biometric finger scanner and a weight sensor designed to detect unauthorised equipment entering or leaving the area.
Xu's first bonus at G Research, awarded only a few months after joining, shattered any illusions that he had joined the hedge fund elite.
He wrote in an online message to his girlfriend, who was working as a corporate lawyer in Hong Kong:
"Bonus only 3k, Fuck me, why? Only December, but it is still crap, crap crap, crap. It should be more."
So Xu stepped his game up - he came up with 20 trading strategies - "signals" in quantspeak - and tested each in numerous simulations.
Seven proved profitable enough to adopted by fund and put to work in real markets.
So at the start of 2014, Xu was feeling confident about his second-year bonus.
"If I get 1.1 million this year, next year should be 3.3 million. Next year it will be 16 million, then 100 million."
Instead, he was awarded a bonus of £400K and, although this was a huge amount for a young man from provincial China, it was far less than he was expecting - so he began planning his exit.
It was around this time that Xu began covertly accessing his colleagues' signals.
After all, he would have a better chance of getting a good job elsewhere if he had ready-to-use signals to offer potential employers.
He landed two offers in Asia, but told his managers at G-Research nothing about his plans.
One evening, Xu cleared out his desk and placed a resignation letter on his manager's desk, and boarded a flight to Hong Kong.
The abruptness of Xu's departure raised immediate suspicions.
The next morning security personnel at G-Research reviewed video footage of his activities the night before, leading the company's attorneys to get an emergency court order.
To cut a long story short, G-Research then got the prestigious law firm Allen & Overy on the case, got a travel ban against Xu, who was reported to police in London, then arrested in Hong Kong in August 2014, extradited to the UK in December 2014, then sentenced in July 2015 to four years in prison.
But that's not all: G-Research then used an ancient quirk of the British legal system called a private prosecution to find out who's seen the 55 stolen signals.
This allows the purported victim of a crime, if they are rich of course, to prosecute the perpetrator if the state fails to do so.
Although G-Research were paying their bills, the lawyers spoke to the jury per the norms of private prosecutions, as representatives of the Crown - the British Government.
In January 2017, jurors founds Xu guilty of two of the five charged in the private prosecution, and the judge sentenced him to an additional 18 months.
​
So the top hedge funds secure their IP like a military facility, have an informational advantage, have the world's best lawyers at their beck and call, have the Fed on their side if things go wrong, and normies think they can match this and be day traders?!
Yes, of course people like this dude regularly beat the hedge funds and make a profit every day!
The vast majority of online courses are scams.
Don't buy them.
Every dollar you save and invest is a soldier working for you.
Don't supply these scammers with ammunition to increase their ad spend and fleece more people.
​
CONCLUSION:
In conclusion, DON'T DAY TRADE!
These hedge funds have intellectual capital and infrastructure you can only dream of.
Invest, don't gamble.
These dopamine-inducing roulette tables scramble our brains' natural rhythm,
Don't take on more risk than you can handle, and don't amble,
Hit that like button for the algorithm.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9JcFAadCVo

Wednesday, August 26th, 2020
After a ten-day cheese binge, Gigi had gained ten pounds.
That didn’t stop Frank, the Italian Stallion, from picking her up and pinning her to the dorm room wall. They began making out in their underwear for the first time.
“Um...do you have a condom?” Gigi whispered as Frank lifted her up.
“But soft, my dear! Why, I carry the finest lambskins in the land. Made from the intestines of the most supple virgin sheep.”
Frank squeezed her thighs while sliding his tongue down her throat. But after holding her up for so long, his arms began to tremble.
“Maybe we can take it on the bed?” Gigi laughed nervously. “I guess I’m well on the way to the Freshman 15. Woo-hoo!”
Frank tossed the 130-pound Gigi onto the beanbag chair. He straddled her, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.
“On second thought, maybe not,” Gigi mouthed, gently pushing his hands away.
“But ask you did - did you not?”
“I...I like you, Frank,” Gigi admitted. “But on a sweaty bean bag chair in a dorm room? It’s...not what I have in mind for my first time!”
“Woe is me! Alas, my sexual and culinary advances remain unrequited.”
Sure enough, Frank was supposed to have cooked dinner for Gigi that previous Friday. But once she’d found out lasagna was on the menu, Gigi had promptly faked the flu. Following her secret cheese dinner with Winston, she had secretly sampled nearly every type of cheese in Buncombe County. And cottage cheese, an ingredient in Frank’s lasagna, was her least favorite. Hard pass.
Gigi slipped into her tight blue jeans and white Beavers hoodie. “Um...looks like I shall depart for class!”
“Next time, shall I conduct myself differently?”
Gigi smiled meekly. “Come as you are, Frank. We’ll try sex again in three months!”
On the 300 Hall, a naked Claire stood handcuffed to the top bunk from behind. She bit her shoulder to muffle her moan as a shiver rattled her body. An also-naked Winston stood up from his knees.
“Mmm...let’s, like, totally do it already!” Claire panted, sweat dripping down her bangs.
It would be Winston’s and Claire’s first time. And he had planned ahead with the help of a little blue pill. “Ah, right,” he grunted. “I reckon I’ll go get a Jimmy hat.”
Winston opened his desk drawer, reminded that his prized fake ID collection was missing. Whoever took it, your ass is grass, Winston thought. Then, while Claire wasn’t looking, he popped a Cialis in his mouth - his second pill in an hour. For good measure, he cracked open a can of Red Bull and chugged.
“Wow,” Claire cooed, looking down at it. “You must be, like, getting ready for a bonafide marathon with me!”
“Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed or your money back, ma’am.”
But as soon as Winston opened Claire’s legs, it happened.
A metric fuck-ton of caffeine and testosterone coursed through his veins. His pulse sank from one head to another. Target locked: Claire. She gasped in surprise. And Winston’s fragile ego, along with something else, deflated.
“Hashtag OMG,” Claire whispered, more embarrassed than Winston. “It’s, like, totally okay! It looks like we, like, had a little too much foreplay.”
Winston, dead-eyed and stone-faced, put on an old pair of Wrangler jeans and a red flannel. “I...need to give a presentation for class.”
“Oh! Like, good luck! Do you think you can, like, get me a towel?”
Winston grabbed his damp, musky shaving towel and tossed it to Claire. “Wait!” Claire called out as Winston stepped into the hallway. “You forget the-”
The door slammed.
“-Handcuff key.” Alone in Winston’s room, she stared at the key on his desk. “Hey, Siri!” she called out to her iPhone. “Call the Italian Stallion on speaker.”
Frank answered. “Ah, Claire: the woman with fire in thy loins. Shan’t you be in class at this time?”
“You’re, like, too silly! Mornings are for sobering up, not classing. Anywho, Winston I and totally ended our morning...prematurely.”
“Methinks you and Winston hath made more progress than Gigi and yours truly.”
“Aw, you poor thing!” Claire teased, sticking out her lower lip. “Tell you what. My hands are, like, tied right now. Hashtag literally! Wanna come up to Winston’s room and take advantage of me?”
***
At 8 AM Econ class, Jacky, Tai, Sarah, and Evelyn sat in the back of the massive lecture hall. While the professor rambled on about exponential growth, Jacky flipped through the binder of fake IDs.
“On the real, we’re not selling fake IDs,” Jacky declared, pulling out an one that favored the Latina teaching assistant. “We’re selling freedom, the way God always intended it.”
“Well put, Cali,” said Sarah. “Looks like you’ve dethroned Frank as the poet in our posse.”
“Whoa, let’s not get crazy,” Tai chuckled. “Unlike us peasants, Francisco is a Sicilian king.”
“If you love him so much, why don’t you just marry him, broseph,” Jacky snapped. Tai looked down like a shameful dog. Jacky held his grey-eyed stare like an Olympian. Finally, he burst out into laughter. “I’m just dogging you, scaredy-cat! Gotta keep you on your toes or this college junk will get stale.”
“College fucking sucks,” Evelyn chimed in, cranking the volume on her Mickey Avalon song. “It’s all a scam.”
The charismatic Jacky swiped an ID of a girl who looked like a preppy version of Evelyn. “Sounds like you need a new perspective, dudette. In college, you can be anybody you want to be. On the real, that’s why in the past 10 days, I’ve sold 25 IDs alone.”
Tai raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-fucking five? Not too shabby.”
“Oh, did I say 25? I meant that I sold 25 IDs to people in this room alone. Heck, the real total is somewhere around...200.”
Their jaws were on the floor. Jacky pulled out a roll of 100-dollar bills from his cargo shorts. He fanned the cash, then divvied a few bills to each of them.
“That’s 500 apiece each,” Jacky declared. “Just as a show of good faith that this operation won’t be a waste of our time.”
“Holy shit,” Sarah whispered, stuffing the money in her purse. “That’s almost enough goddamn cash for...half a textbook!”
“True that, but God’s last name is not damn,” Jacky hissed.
“Wait, how much money have you made so far?” Tai asked, reaching down and holding Jacky’s hand.
“Plenty more,” Jacky whispered, inviting them to get close. “Look at all of God’s lost sheep in this room. Investing all this time and money to make this kind of money appear. Heck, we can do it much faster, dude and dudettes. We can take our operation straight to Beleavers.”
Jacky was referring to the Methodist youth group that met in the Chadwick Learning Center each Wednesday. Students of all faiths, colors, creeds, and M.O.’s were welcome - if only for the campus-renowned free popcorn.
“Ugh, organized religion is a farce,” Evelyn groaned, putting her headphones back in.
“Then you should have no problem taking their money,” Sarah said, yanking her earbud out.
“Exactamundo,” Jacky declared as the professor dismissed class. “Just picture all those students walking around with Mommy and Daddy’s tithe money. All we need to do is earn their business. Let’s get there early tonight and set up a vendor table. Sarah, Evelyn: we need a front. What can you sell?”
“I can sell my collection of human bones from my graveyard raids,” Evelyn offered casually.
They all stared at Evelyn in silence. “H-how about we make homemade bath bombs instead?” Sarah suggested casually.
“Perfect,” Jacky declared. “Tai and I will go to the dorm kitchen and whip up some baked goods. They’ll come for the snacks and leave with new identities.”
“Gravy,” Sarah said, flashing a peace sign. “Now, Evelyn and I have a rematch to settle.”
“Mario Kart?” Tai asked.
“Nah, grappling on the quad.” Sarah snatched Evelyn in a headlock and tickled her stomach. Evelyn burst out laughing, then tapped out. The two friends left the lecture hall.
“On the real, your hippie friend has a lot of nerve leading her on like that,” Jacky said, packing up his books.
“Eh, Sarah’s made it clear that she doesn’t like girls. Or...anybody for that matter.”
“Well, from one gay to another: Sarah’s full of horse crap.”
“Dude, they’re friends! And Evelyn’s not holding out for anything more.”
Jacky cocked his head as the last few students left the lecture hall. “What about us, Tai? Are we just friends?”
Tai leaned in to kiss him. Jacky kissed back harder, slipping his hand beneath Tai’s nylon shorts. Tai tossed his head back, pacing his breaths.
“Try to hold out as long as you can,” Jacky whispered, nibbling his neck. “I don’t want this to end…prematurely.”
“Hold out, huh?” Tai moaned between breaths. “Fuck...guess I gotta...uh, think about Evelyn the demon or something. That’s a turnoff...uh, am I right?”
“Seriously?” Jacky mumbled. “I’m trying to please you, and you’re gonna talk about another woman? Just stop talking.”
My boyfriend’s a hard nut to crack, Tai thought. Yes, it was true that Jacky had been a cocky, jealous, holier-than-thou douche during the whole class. He’s shallow. But God, his hand feels so good. So Tai let Jacky California finish. And afterward, Tai felt like the shallow one. For letting somebody kiss, caress, and fondle him when he knew for damn sure that they had nothing in common.
***
“And in conclusion,” said a female brunette. “That’s why multicultural cuisine is integral to improving the health of obese Americans in our nation. Thank you!”
“Delightful,” exclaimed Dr. Cartwright: Winston’s female Public Speaking professor. The student thanked her, then returned to her desk in the small Learning Center classroom. Today’s topic: Describe how multiculturalism has changed your life.
“Next up: Winston Beavers,” Dr. Cartwright announced. “Ah, quite a fitting last name, if I do say so myself.”
“Much obliged, ma’am.” Winston tipped his cowboy hat. “No one liked my last name until I became a student at South App.” He walked to the front of the classroom carrying two large foam boards.
“Oh! Somebody chose to use props, I see.”
“I was always a visual learner myself.” Winston set the foam boards up on tripods. “Ever since I was a little shit...um, I mean child, I always had a knack for pictures instead of words. I reckon ain’t much changed since then.”
“That’s very...insightful, Winston. Please begin whenever you’re ready.”
Two huge images were printed on the foam boards. One was a high-res photo of a revolver. The other was a simple stock photo of a 3-ring binder.
“Ladies and gents, when I enrolled last month, two precious items were stolen from me.” Winston pulled out a cigarette and pointed at each of the photos. “Exhibit A: my Colt Single Action Army revolver, gifted to me by my daddy. And Exhibit B: a top-secret binder, gifted to me by the fine folks from Beta Delta Epsilon.”
“Who’s got big dicks? We’ve got big dicks!” chanted a few BDE pledges in the back of the class.
“Don’t you forget it. Uh, anyway, I say all this to say: multiculturalism has impacted my life because it was statistically somebody of a certain race who stole these items from me.”
“Mister Beavers, I must stop you as this is highly inappropriate!” blurted out the professor’s teaching assistant.
“Let...let him continue,” Dr. Cartwright muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Mister Beavers, I do presume you have...dare I say, a valuable theme in your speech?”
“I humbly assure you, I do,” replied Winston tipping his cowboy hat. “I reckon you’re gonna wanna listen to what I’m fixin’ to say.”
***
Down at the other end of the Student Center, Gigi donned goggles and rubber gloves while she weighed silver nitrate powder on a scale.
“Everybody make sure that your scale is switched to grams!” cautioned Dr. Spivey: a wild white-haired mad scientist. “And before anybody asks: no, I will not help you cook meth in an RV! I will, however, give you a list of Asheville’s finest marijuana dealers...for a price.”
Gigi added the powder to a volumetric flask. Then, she unzipped her bookbag and grabbed a bottle of distilled water. She slowly poured the water into the flask, swirling the mixture around.
“Smart, smart, smart!” Dr. Spivey praised Gigi. “Why, I see somebody brought their own water. Now, I think I know why. But please humor me.”
“Gladly!” Gigi obliged, swirling the flask until the silver nitrate dissolved completely. “Well, Professor, I opted to access my personal inventory in hopes of bypassing a lengthy dihydrogen monoxide queue! Translation: look at that line!”
Sure enough, a long line of students stood with flasks in hand, waiting to use the tap of distilled water. Dr. Spivey flipped through his attendance roster. “Ah, you’re my pre-dental student: Ji-hye.” He pronounced it incorrectly as Gee-Hi.
“Oh, it’s actually pronounced Gee-Hey. But my real name’s caused so much...um, confusion that most people call me Gigi now.”
“I see. That’s quite unfortunate. Having to change your name all because of someone else.”
Before Gigi could respond, a frat boy called out to the professor. “Hey, Walter White! I’ll pay ya a hundred bucks for a list of all your dealers. Come on, bubba, that’s like half your salary!”
Dr. Spivey sighed and feigned annoyance. “Ah, these kids and their shrewd business exchanges. Guess I better entertain their shenanigans. Keep up the diligence, Ji-hye.” That time, he pronounced it correctly.
After Dr. Spivey left, a nerdy hipster girl tapped Gigi’s shoulder. “Hey, check this out.” The girl raised her cardigan sleeve to reveal a dark silver nitrate tattoo. Fuck Landsharks. It was the South App Beavers’ rival mascot.
“I...fully approve this message!”
“Here, try one on you before the professor gets back.” The girl handed Gigi a paintbrush.
“Neat!” Gigi replied as if accepting party pills for the first time. “But what to write?” She stared at her class schedule, where her name was also listed as “Ji-hye Moon.” Maybe...I should get used to using my real name again.
Gigi pulled up her hoodie sleeve and dipped the brush into the silver nitrate solution. Just then, the professor summoned everybody back to their desks for discussion. “Ji-hye, Ji-hye, Ji-hye,” she repeated, quickly painting a tattoo on the inside of her left hand.
Gigi rushed back to her desk. Dr. Spivey laughed at the class, his white hair sprawling in all directions. “Fools! I saw what you did. Now, let this be a lesson in commitment. Because silver nitrate tattoos take a week to fade. Now...who wants to show me theirs? Or shall I start calling names?”
Goosebumps rose on the back of Gigi’s neck. Not because her tattoo was semi-permanent, but because she was surely about to be the center of attention. But after a moment of tension, the professor simply dismissed class. Gigi bolted out the door. “So long, Ji-hye!” his voice echoed down the hall.
Shit, did he see my tattoo? Gigi picked up the pace, bumping into students who filed out of the Learning Center classrooms. Around the corner, she heard the grinding of coffee beans and frothing of whole milk. She would soon reach safety at Doppio Coffee Shop...
“Whaaa-oomph!” Gigi gasped, slipping on a banana peel. She landed flat on her back, sending her notebook and loose papers flying.
“Whoa, are you okay?” asked a short Indian guy as he rushed to Gigi’s aid. He helped her to her feet. “Yo, did you get that on video?” he asked another Indian, who ran up with a video camera. “Hey, Miss, it was just a social experiment! See, we’re from the South App Social Club. Hey, are you listening? It was just a prank, bro!”
A mentally-drained Gigi kneeled down to collect her supplies. It was only when Gigi reached down to collect her papers that she read the tattoo on her hand. And it did not read Ji-hye...
“WINSTON?!” her voice cracked.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” mumbled a young cowboy, hunched over a large caramel frappuccino. “Are ya that surprised to find me here?”
Winston was sitting at Doppio Coffee Shop. Gigi hurriedly pulled down her hoodie sleeves past her fingertips. She balled the draping sleeves over her fists, concealing the palms of her hands. Then, she walked over to Winston as if she didn’t look like a complete-
“You look like a complete dork!” Winston chuckled.
“Oh! I was...uh, cold,” Gigi lied. She held up her balled-up fists like a panda bear. “See, I made my own gloves!”
Winston snatched her right wrist, then placed it palm-down on the counter. He reached into his pocket for a dull, rusty Swiss Army Knife.
“So what we wanna do is make a quick little incision where the thumb is right here.” Winston cut a small hole in the sleeve. Carefully, he guided her thumb through the hole to create a mitten of sorts for her small hand.
“Now, let’s do your left hand.”
Gigi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed her tattooed left hand and lay her palm on the table. Don’t look at my tattoo, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
“Ugh, damn blade’s straight-up fucked,” Winston scoffed. “Must’ve been that buck I skinned.”
“Eek! That’s so gross! Have you at least washed it?” Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!
Winston ignored her question. “Here, let me see your palm so I can-”
For the love of all that is sacred and holy, don’t look at it, don’t look at it, DON’T LOOK AT IT!
“I have to poop!” Gigi blurted out.
Winstons let go of Gigi’s hand. He and everybody else stared in disbelief. Of course, she was lying. It’s not even what she meant to say. But Gigi took that baton and ran a country mile. “Um...it appears that most sharp cheeses give me constipation. But ever since I ate all those mozzarella sticks, I have major runs!”
Gigi stood up, crossed her arms, and bowed. Then, she skittered off to the restroom - her secret safe in her left hand.
A preppy guy and girl walked up behind the dumbfounded Winston. “Yo, country boy needs to teach his lady friend some manners, am I right?” The guy looked around, trying to rally the cafe customers for support. “That’s one thing I hate about this liberal town. What a fuckin’ dyke.”
A storm brewed in Winston’s head. But he kept it bottled up inside. He chuckled instead, placing a hand on the guy’s shoulder. A pause. Suddenly, Winston yanked him into a headlock, holding the pocket knife to his crotch. His girlfriend shrieked like a mouse, while the young man raised his trembling hands.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” the guy yelled.“T-take it easy, man! I was just-”
“Now listen here, partner.” Winston applied pressure with his blade. “I’ve had my share of good days. Matter fact, they’ve been a dime a dozen. But I reckon I’ve had my share of bad days too. And this right here is one of them bad days.” Winston motioned at the paper next to his drink. “See that-there paper over there? That’s the speech I just gave in front of a crowd of SJWs. And you wanna know what the teacher gave me? D-fuckin’-minus.”
“I’m...s-s-sorry,” the preppy guy whimpered.
“Yeah, me too,” Winston grumbled, using his knife to flick off the button on the guy’s board shorts.
“Somebody, do something!” the guy’s air-headed girlfriend cried.
And on cue, a thin brown liquid ran down the preppy guy’s legs. It seeped into his white Champion socks and stained his off-brand boat shoes. The putrid smell hit the gasping, coughing patrons.
Satisfied, Winston shoved the guy into his girlfriend’s arms. “I reckon you best wash up, partner.” Whispers and murmurs in the crowd while the preppy boy limped toward the men’s bathroom. “Hol’ up. I reckon you best make your way to the female bathroom. Matter fact, all bathrooms are gender-neutral around these parts. And while you’re in there, you can apologize to that so-called dyke from earlier. Tell her Winston Motherfucking Beavers sent you.”
With anguish and defeat in his eyes, the lady entered the female bathroom. Satisfied, Winston gathered his things and decided that it was time to get the fuck out of there. But when he turned around to leave, a thunderous applause erupted behind him like an action movie explosion. Winston smiled mischievously. For the first time since he enrolled, he finally belonged.
Suddenly, Winston slipped on the banana feel and landed square on his elbow. “Oh, shit!” exclaimed the Indian student, running to his side. “Are you okay, man?”
***
Frank shivered on top of Claire as she dug her nails into his back. He lay there for a moment, his breath ragged. Then, he rolled off, breathing heavily on Winston’s top bunk. He slipped off the latex condom and tossed it into an empty cheese ball can on Winston’s bunk.
“Alas, thou hadst sucketh the chi from my body and-”
“Remember, like, no talking!” Claire reminded him condescendingly. She pulled the covers over her breasts, opened Instagram, and took a duck-face selfie.
“Ah, perhaps you didn’t get a chance to c-”
“Like, no.” Claire casually added a rabbit-ear filter and snapped a pic. “But that’s, like, totally okay...I guess.”
Frank transformed from Shakespeare to Sherlock, scanning Winston’s filthy bachelor bedspread for something. Anything. There were cigarette butts, saltine crumbs, half a stick of butter, Fun Dip packages with only the dip missing, a whole uneaten chicken wing, piss in a Sprite bottle, a Happy Meal box with a dead rat inside, three leaking D Batteries, and Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
Finally, Frank grabbed a nearly-empty can of whipped cream. He yanked the covers off the naked Claire and sprayed a line from her collarbone to navel. Now, he had Claire’s full, undivided attention. She slowly looked down at the runny mess that pooled into her belly button. Then, she gave him the hungriest bedroom eyes Frank had ever seen.
“If you’re, like, going to play with your food, then you better totally clean up after yourself.”
Frank and Claire proceeded to do unthinkable things in that bed. And Winston’s top bunk held on by faith and faith alone. Finally, they collapsed next to one another. Two sweaty messes bathing in afterglow. Afterward, they snuck into the men’s shower where they agreed on two things. One: they were going to burn that mattress out of respect for Winston. And two: they were going to have sex at Beleavers that night.
***
“Look here, you little bitch!”
Evelyn grabbed the young, black cheerleader’s collar and pulled her across the table, showing her fangs.
“W-whoa!” the cheerleader stammered. “Chill out! I’m...sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
The girl panned from Evelyn to Sarah, Tai, and Jacky. “I’m...uh, sorry for asking you if you were selling tickets to a Marilyn Manson concert.”
“Apology accepted!” Sarah cheered on Evelyn’s behalf. She pointed at the assorted bath bombs for sale in the Learning Center Ballroom. “Everything you see here is between 10 and 15. If you have a sweet tooth, the fine gents to my right are selling yummy cookies and banana bread. Or…” Sarah pulled out the sacred BDE binder and placed it on the table. “Between you and me, we’re selling fake IDs.”
“Yeah!” Tai said. “There’s a few young ladies in there who have a mocha complexion almost as rich as yours!”
Jacky elbowed Tai in the ribs. Tai sucked in a breath, while his boyfriend acted as nothing had just happened. My boyfriend is jealous over fuckin’ everything.
The cheerleader looked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. Then, she flipped through the pages as if she was dress shopping. “They contain the new state watermark and everything!” Sarah informed her customer. “We accept only cash at the moment. They cost-”
“A hundred, dudette,” Jacky interjected. Sarah gave him a worrisome side-eye at the exorbitant price. But as expected, the rich cheerleader pulled out the bills and handed them over.
“Oh, that makeup actually makes your eyes pop - no cap,” the cheerleader told Evelyn, before disappearing into the Beleavers crowd with her fake ID.
“Mission accomplished!” Jacky cheered. They had managed to pull off just over 100 sales: 7500 bucks split four ways. Now, it was time to close up shop for the night. Soon, the Christian rock band would take the stage to celebrate God in a room full of students with brand new identities.
“Come on, Tai,” Jacky said, smiling warmly. “Let’s grab some popcorn. I have somebody I want you to meet.”
Tai waved at the girls as they watched them leave.
“I...really don’t know what to make of Jacky,” Sarah admitted. “A few weeks ago, I tracked him down across campus because I thought he was smoking hot. I mean, he still is. But still…”
“He’s a fucking fake,” Evelyn fumed. “That holier-than-thou douchelord can sit on a tack.”
“Whoa, sounds like you need to relieve some stress,” Sarah chuckled, punching Evelyn’s arm. “Why don’t we head to the quad and settle our tie-breaker?”
At that, Sarah and Evelyn left for one last grappling match to end them all.
***
Winston and Gigi approached the Ballroom entrance, where thumping Christian rock rattled the door.
“So...are you a Christian or are you here for the popcorn?” Winston asked.
“A little bird told me that it is pretty tasty!” Gigi admitted sheepishly.
“And I reckon that little bird was Frankie?”
“Yes, actually! He’s supposed to meet me here. But...I haven’t heard from him in a few hours.”
“Ah. Same with Claire.”
Just like last week’s restaurant date, Gigi and Winston had been once again ghosted by their lovers. It had become a running meme at this point.
“M-maybe their bus is running late?” Gigi suggested, failing to convince even herself.
“Hey, while we’re meddlin’ in conspiracy theories, I’ve got one too. See, Frankie likes to cook. And I’mma bet he’s with Claire, baking her a fresh, homemade cream-”
Gigi clamped her hand over Winston’s mouth. Gigi’s pupils said it all. So he opted to lay off the jokes. Neither either of them really believed their lovers were sneaking around with each other.
Winston opened the ballroom door and promptly caught an elbow to the temple.
“Oomph!” Winston groaned. Gigi slouched against the wall for safety. The scene was no Sunday morning gospel band. This was a Christian hardcore band. And they had just walked into a mosh pit.
“W-Winston!” Gigi yelled over the screamo vocals. But among the flurry of flailing super-Christians, Winston had vanished. Gigi bent her knees and jumped as high as she could, searching for his cowboy hat in the crowd. Suddenly, a punk-rock girl came up from behind and lifted her into the air.
“She’s tryin’ to go surfing!” the girl yelled, heaving her into the crowd like a FedEx package. Gigi gasped before landing into a sea of open hands. This “wave” slowly guided her through the spazzing strobe lights and fog.
Suddenly, an anonymous hand grazed her breast, then very deliberately squeezed it. “W-whaaa!?” Gigi pulled her knee to her stomach, then kicked the culprit square in the face.
“You bitch!” the fondler yelled psychotically, cupping a hand over his bleeding nose. “Throw this fucking slut overboard!” And, in unison, the moshers raised and lowered her body in their hands. “One, two, three!”
Gigi flew into the air - falling, falling, falling until she crashed into a table of baked goods and bath bombs. Winded, she slipped behind the tablecloth and curled up under the table. The mob raged outside.
“Animals,” Gigi whispered, rubbing her sore breast. Alone in the dark under that table, she wanted to cry. She could only imagine what Winston would have done if she caught that pervert red-handed. Maybe I should have let him keep his gun.
Gigi turned on her phone’s flashlight and looked around. Under the table were several cardboard boxes. One, in particular, was labeled Sarah’s Box O’Fun. Gigi recognized it immediately. On move-in day, she’d watched Sarah unpack a huge bong from that very box. Then, Sarah had dared a drunk Winston to drink the bong water. He did. (“Gigi, meet my brother.”)
This is...Sarah’s table? She’s here at Beleavers tonight? Feeling gutsy, she sifted through the box. On top of the mountain of bath bombs and baked goods, the B.D.E. binder sat there in all its glory. She flipped through pages upon pages of fake IDs. On a scratch sheet of notebook paper: a tally of sales for Sarah, Evelyn, Tai, and Claire. But no Winston. And slowly, her busy brain started to connect the dots.
“Holy balls,” she whispered, snapping the stolen binder shut. She thought about taking it right then and there and returning it to its bearded beast of an owner. But another thought crossed her mind.
I could leave it here and blackmail them for money, Gigi thought. All I have to do is threaten to tell Winston! The decision was set in stone. She left the binder behind and slipped out from under the table. But not before stealing a baseball-sized charcoal bath bomb.
***
In the popcorn line, safe from the mosh pit, Jacky stood in front of Tai with his back turned. The blonde-haired surfer had been rambling excitedly with an Asian guy for five minutes now. And not once had Jacky thought to introduce him.
“Oh, Tai Maple!” Jacky finally remembered, turning to face him. “This is my friend: Benji. Benji, meet Tai.”
This freckle-faced Asian guy gave a slight bow. Tai immediately knew who he was. In fact, Gigi had given him the full scoop while she and Tai had shared her very first cheese pizza. It had all begun on the day where the freshmen tracked down Jacky in his mail truck. Jacky had mistaken the cross-dressing Gigi with the Benji who now stood before him.
And this Benji was allegedly Jacky’s secret long-time crush.
“Benji, would you please grab us a popcorn?” Jacky asked politely, stepping out of the line. “I need to talk to my friend here...alone.”
“Friend,” Tai echoed, following Jacky like a lost puppy.
“Tai, this is just as hard for me, brother,” Jacky frowned, more condescending than empathetic.
“The hell it is!” Tai blew up, drowned out by the hardcore band. “You had your hand in my pants just a few hours ago! Were you fucking planning on leaving me this whole time? For him?!”
“Tai, listen man. Look, I know everything. When you showed up at the coffee shop, I knew you’d been spying on me long before you met me. I first thought our meeting was a...beautiful coincidence. But all along, you were pulling the wool over my eyes. But that’s okay, brochacho! Because I gave you a chance anyway. See, I wanted to save you from what you are! You’re a liar, bro. But in God’s eyes, we all-”
“I let you take my goddamn virginity!” Tai exploded over the music, his jaw twitching uncontrollably.
A pitiful look from Jacky. “I see. That does complicate things a bit, on the real. Look, you can have a quarter of my earnings from tonight’s sales. And I promise to pray for you every night before-”
“Fuck you and fuck your God! I hope you die in your fucking sleep! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!”
Tai turned around and walked confidently out of the ballroom, holding his head up high while vertigo weighed it down. But nobody stopped him. And not once did he look back.
***
Winston limped down the Learning Center hallway with a pounding headache. He struggled to keep his twitching, swollen eye open while passing the empty classrooms. Where he was going, not even he knew. He just had to get far away from that mosh pit.
“Calm, child! You’re quite a fool to be walking around with a concussion!”
Winston turned around. Through his good eye, he saw a large, middle-aged Haitian woman in an African floral dress and headwrap. She held a bible in her large, smooth hands.
“Join us, child,” the woman beckoned, pointing into a classroom of Haitian students in chairs.
Winston smiled weakly, thinking back to his controversial speech from class that morning. “I mighty appreciate it, ma’am. But I reckon I ain’t much worthy.” He turned to walk away, but accidentally stumbled like a drunkard into the woman’s arms.
“Soft, my child,” she soothed him, ushering him into the room of students. “Not one of us is worthy. But there is good news.”
A half-hour later, Winston was sitting in the front row of the Haitian Student Ministry with a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swollen eye. The matriarch, Nadia, was delivering a passionate Psalm 107 sermon to her students.
“Let the one who is wise heed these things,” Nadia read. “And ponder the loving deeds of the Lord. Amen. Now, to conclude, I’d like to introduce our guest: Winston from Beleavers. Please, child, tell us about yourself.”
The young men on either side of Winston gave him a back pat. Winston slowly stood up and tipped his cowboy hat. In his mind, it was his Public Speaking 101 all over again. But in class, he hadn’t been standing in front of all-black students. Like he was now.
“Well, like I told Nurse Nadia earlier. I don’t feel like I’m worthy among y’all fine folks here. I mighty appreciate Nadia for patching me up. And for y’all’s hospitality.”
Winston headed for the door, but Nadia blocked the exit. “Please, child. Do your sins trouble you? May it ease your soul to know that there are redeemed people in this very room who have committed acts of credit card fraud, gang violence, and even beastiality?”
Winston blinked.
But somehow, Nadia’s words did not repel these people away. They brought them closer. So Winston opened his mouth and confessed what had been brewing in his mind all day.
“Well, uh...today in speech class, I said the N-word. I didn’t mean to be ugly when I said it. Only said it to take power away from it. But I reckon I really hurt a couple of people in that class. The only reason the teacher didn’t ban me from the class was ‘cause she wanted me to learn a lesson this year. And I’m tryin’, Nadia. I’m...tryin’ real hard.”
The students didn’t come forward to comfort Winston, who now choked on tears. But they didn’t back away either. It was only when Nadia lay a hand on him that the other students followed suit.
“It sounds like you have a lot to think on,” Nadia said warmly, as layers of hands covered him. “I wish you luck on your journey. We will always be here whenever Beleavers get a little too...rowdy.”
Nadia and the students led a closing prayer for Winston. He smiled as a rush of dopamine reached the brain. The tears flowed freely, even as he used the bag of frozen peas to dab his face.
“Amen,” Nadia concluded. Everybody left Winston’s side and began stacking chairs.
“Wait,” Winston said, returning to his confident southern drawl. “Let me take care of them-there chairs. It’s...the least this poor white boy can do.”
And so, Winston began folding chairs alone while the others left. And like Jesus on the Via Dolorosa, he began carrying ten chairs down the long hallway toward the supply closet. And like all other men, Winston was hell-bent on making only one trip.
“Winston!” Gigi blurted out as he turned a corner. With his hands full, his black eye had nowhere to hide. Gigi dropped her jaw. Then, her mouth formed a pitiful frown. She kissed her tattoo-free hand and gently pressed her fingertips on Winston’s eyelid.
“One more time,” Winston suggested with a grin.
Gigi hesitantly kissed her hand, then reached for Winston’s eyelid again. Suddenly, Winston playfully bit her hand. “Eek!” Gigi quickly brought her hand to her chest.
“You’re a good woman, Gigi,” Winston chuckled, reflecting on his own moral character. Both of their faces flushed red. He shook his head, arms trembling from the weight they carried. “Look, I gotta put these chairs up. Walk with me.”
Gigi carried four of the chairs. And even then, she lagged behind Winston. “So, what’s the word on Frankie? You find him in that-there mob?”
Gigi shook her head, her long black hair whipping back and forth. “Nope! And Claire?”
“Shit,” Winston said, emotionally detached. “Honestly, I don’t expect to see her ever again.”
“Hmmm...so why don’t they love us anymore?”
“Beats me,” said Winston, as they set their chairs down at the closet door. “But if I was a betting man, I’d wager it’s because you and I seem to be attached at the hip these days.”
“Do you think they don’t trust us together? I mean, as friends?”
“Should they?”
Gigi opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, they quickly reached for the doorknob at the same time. A moment passed, and they did not move their hands. Slowly, her earthy brown eyes met his icy blue ones. Gigi’s tattoo was on fire.
Together, they turned the doorknob. And lo and behold: it was Frank and Claire.
Frank’s pants were around his ankles - all eight inches of uncut glory on full display. Claire was on her knees, snorting an eight-inch line of red-and-white cocaine from root to tip. As soon as they were spotted, Claire frantically wiped her nose while Frank shuffled to button his pants.
“W-w-woe is me!” Frank moaned in despair. “It doth appear that our feline hath escaped its rucksack!”
“Like, no fucking shit, Sherlock!” Claire snapped, brushing the cocaine off her shirt. “Do you ever, like, shut the fuck up? Like, look Winston and Gigi! I promise this is, like, not what it looks like. It was just, like, like, like, like, like-”
Winston and Gigi slowly stared at each other - sly grins on their faces.
“Um...are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Gigi asked Winston cheerfully.
“I sure the hell am, buddy,” Winston answered. They each grabbed a folding chair and approached the pair of adulterers.
***
A short while later, at dusk, Winston and Gigi sat on the curb of the Chadwick Hughes Learning Center - handcuffed. A fresh-faced, fat officer stood with his arms crossed, staring at the excited pair of criminals.
“So, you mean to tell me you…stabbed this chick with a chair?” the officer asked, dumbfounded.
“Yep!” Gigi piped up, a wide smile plastered on her face. “I managed to wield my melee weapon like a medieval knight, riding with the north winds until that raging thundercunt landed on her assless keister!”
“That was fuckin’ awesome,” Winston said, giving her an elbow bump. “But not as awesome as me crackin’ Frankie’s skull.”
The cop knitted his brows, taking extensive notes. “Alrighty then. Anything else y’all wanna add?”
Gigi and Winston grinned at each other, adrenaline fueling their veins. They had truly saved the best for last.
“Then, I took out my phone,” Winston started. “And I showed them a pic of-”
“He flashed them a pic of him taking my virginity!” Gigi finished proudly. But it was a lie. No, Winston had instead shown the cheaters the photo of Gigi eating cheese for the first time with Winston. And despite being attacked with a chair, that photo had shocked Frank more than anything.
Cop 2 walked over to Cop 1 and whispered something into his ear. Cop 1 nodded and pointed at Jacky and Claire. The pair looked tired and traumatized, and were hugging and consoling each other next to another cop car.
“Y’all got off lucky this time,” Cop 2 jeered. “They ain’t gonna press charges. You must have some deep dirt on ‘em or something.”
He wasn’t wrong. That red-and-white cocaine was Ryan’s signature product. The BDE fraternity circulated that cocaine more widely than Jacky and his fake IDs. And it was a much larger, lucrative operation. In Winston’s eyes, Claire didn’t want to risk Winston snitching in retaliation for being thrown in jail.
“Ladies first,” said Cop 1, helping Gigi off the curb to her feet. He spun her around and unlocked her handcuffs. “What kinda ink job is that?” the cop muttered, reading the silver nitrate tattoo on Gigi’s palm. “Winston...wait a sec. Hey, that’s your name, right?”
Winston cocked his head at the cop’s question. Gigi’s knees trembled as she let out a nervous chuckle. It surely wasn’t the craziest thing to happen that day. But goddamn, would it be hard to explain.
“Gigi, what the hell?” Winston muttered with a blank expression.
“Call me Ji-hye!” Gigi blurted out proudly. Winston shook his head with a smile as he watched her disappear into the Asheville night.

Part 1/3 - Robinhood:
Let's start with Robinhood.
And no, not the legendary outlaw who robbed the rich to give to the poor.
Robinhood made around $100 million from selling its customer order flow in the first quarter of this year.
This means that Robinhood is selling retail order flow to hedge funds, who can then use high frequency trading algorithms to front run the trades.
Citadel, a hedge fund which manages a cool $32 billion, paid Robinhood almost $50 million in Q1 2020 just for its order flow.
Billionaire investor Chamath Palihapitiya described the practice as "shady AF".
So basically, Citadel takes free money via the New York Fed's overnight Repos, places huge leverage bets (which may or may not blow up - who cares anyway!), but gets to buy order flow from Robinhood to front run retail, then the US Treasury issues checks to retail, who buy stocks via Robinhood, and the circle of 'capitalism' is complete.
This is why Ken Griffin can buy $238 million condos. Citadel know who is leveraged, they know where all the stops are and they trade against everybody. And of course the SEC is bought and paid for.
​
Part 2/3 - Shoeshine Time:
After making good money owning stocks in the roaring bull market of the 1920s, Joseph Kennedy Sr. found himself needing to get his shoes polished.
While sitting in the chair, Kennedy Sr. was shocked to have the shoeshine boy gift him with several tips on which stocks he should own.
Kennedy Sr. quickly went back to his office and started unloading his stock portfolio.
In fact, he didn't just get out of the market - he aggressively shorted it - and got filthy rich during the epic crash that followed.
Fast forward to today, and we have the Buy High Sell Low Kings, CNBC's Fast Money, talking about the Rise of the Day Trader.
We have a record number of Wall Street professionals saying the S&P is overvalued.
We have Jerome trying his best to keep the market propped up.
We have Hertz pumping nearly 1000% after filing for bankruptcy.
We are clearly at the death throes of the market cycle.
​
Part 3/3 - Hedge Funds:
Let me tell you the fascinating story of Ke Xu, a Chinese quant.
Xu studied maths at Cambridge, by the way one of the most competitive courses in the world, and graduated third in a class of 250.
He then worked at Goldman Sachs, got bored and in 2012 joined the relatively secretive quant hedge fund G-Research.
He spent his days writing code in G-Research's "secure zone", which could be entered only through a special pod with a biometric finger scanner and a weight sensor designed to detect unauthorised equipment entering or leaving the area.
Xu's first bonus at G Research, awarded only a few months after joining, shattered any illusions that he had joined the hedge fund elite.
He wrote in an online message to his girlfriend, who was working as a corporate lawyer in Hong Kong:
"Bonus only 3k, Fuck me, why? Only December, but it is still crap, crap crap, crap. It should be more."
So Xu stepped his game up - he came up with 20 trading strategies - "signals" in quantspeak - and tested each in numerous simulations.
Seven proved profitable enough to adopted by fund and put to work in real markets.
So at the start of 2014, Xu was feeling confident about his second-year bonus.
"If I get 1.1 million this year, next year should be 3.3 million. Next year it will be 16 million, then 100 million."
Instead, he was awarded a bonus of £400K and, although this was a huge amount for a young man from provincial China, it was far less than he was expecting - so he began planning his exit.
It was around this time that Xu began covertly accessing his colleagues' signals.
After all, he would have a better chance of getting a good job elsewhere if he had ready-to-use signals to offer potential employers.
He landed two offers in Asia, but told his managers at G-Research nothing about his plans.
One evening, Xu cleared out his desk and placed a resignation letter on his manager's desk, and boarded a flight to Hong Kong.
The abruptness of Xu's departure raised immediate suspicions.
The next morning security personnel at G-Research reviewed video footage of his activities the night before, leading the company's attorneys to get an emergency court order.
To cut a long story short, G-Research then got the prestigious law firm Allen & Overy on the case, got a travel ban against Xu, who was reported to police in London, then arrested in Hong Kong in August 2014, extradited to the UK in December 2014, then sentenced in July 2015 to four years in prison.
But that's not all: G-Research then used an ancient quirk of the British legal system called a private prosecution to find out who's seen the 55 stolen signals.
This allows the purported victim of a crime, if they are rich of course, to prosecute the perpetrator if the state fails to do so.
Although G-Research were paying their bills, the lawyers spoke to the jury per the norms of private prosecutions, as representatives of the Crown - the British Government.
In January 2017, jurors founds Xu guilty of two of the five charged in the private prosecution, and the judge sentenced him to an additional 18 months.
​
So the top hedge funds secure their IP like a military facility, have an informational advantage, have the world's best lawyers at their beck and call, have the Fed on their side if things go wrong, and normies think they can match this and be day traders?!
Yes, of course people like this dude regularly beat the hedge funds and make a profit every day!
The vast majority of online courses are scams.
Don't buy them.
Every dollar you save and invest is a soldier working for you.
Don't supply these scammers with ammunition to increase their ad spend and fleece more people.
​
CONCLUSION:
In conclusion, DON'T DAY TRADE!
These hedge funds have intellectual capital and infrastructure you can only dream of.
Invest, don't gamble.
These dopamine-inducing roulette tables scramble our brains' natural rhythm,
Don't take on more risk than you can handle, and don't amble,
Hit that like button for the algorithm.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9JcFAadCVo

!!!!DISCLAIMER:!!!!
Before you even start watching this for entertainment and see if you get offended by this un-P.C. content. Don't be a pussy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Igsb3ejgbL8
If you can't handle it, leave this thread. If you can, then you may proceed to the next level.
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📰📜Story📜📰:
I've been scatter-brained, ire-filled, soul-searching and lost after a 7-day Degen Marathon that brought a shit load of misfortunes. I used to hate social media, but I've learned how to wield the soc. med. sword like a fucking Degen Jedi. I'm going to promote an honest cause where I seek to be victorious in the end. Just you watch you fucking doubters, haters, blockers, scammers. How much grit and intellect would the average fucking person have to endure what I've gone through in the last fucking 48 hours and still come out alive with a sense of greater purpose?
Had about $400 to $500 in righteously earned bonus dollars earned through impossible grinding degen mission that came pretty close to accomplishing (91%).
I would have had some imaginary >$600 BR by now, but instead the roll-over deadline caused the entire deposit to be forfeited and I manage to salvage some $100.
Due to a bonus rollover scheme, 80U of my balance was stuck in bonuses and if I fail to accomplish the roll-over by the deadline, it all gets forfeited.
With a $500-$600 balance, I could have somewhere at $900-1000 by now after a 20-2 W-L record on European football on Wednesday.
How did I get that record yesterday, by sampling a bunch of solid pre-game picks and live betting using my own fucking brain. I consult with the finest in capping. With $10-$20 bet sizes, That would have put me up maybe $15x16 = +$240 at minimum. $1000 was the imaginary bank roll. As of today, betting with $1 units, after Monday-Wednesday's successful run, while Tuesday was a -$50 blip, I converted $100 to about close to $200 (40U).
🤪🤑Psycho Betting🤑🤪:
I learned the art of psycho betting. Taking some well-advised 10U and 30U psycho bets that put my bankroll up a significant amounts, but a big loss does the opposite. Yesterday I manage to hit 4 grand 30U slams in a row, however many on juiced lines, so each $30 bet one returns about $15-20. Thus my bankroll grew nearly +100 units and sits close to $200 from the initial $100 I manage to salvage after that bonus robbery.
If you want to fucking learn the art of Psycho-Betting to the extremest and be successful at it, fucking put in $100 in Bovada (remember to use money that you can afford to lose) and get that fucking bonus for the purpose of looting the bookies in a successful vengeance scheme. This guy is a fucking Artillery: https://twitter.com/GoTimeCappers.
Fucking hit more than 4x30U grand slams yesterday and some 10-20U cherries on top. I tailed his free picks and other through consultation [Haha fucking reddit/sportsbook will probably ban me for promoting another tout, :)].Of course with my $1.5U size on a crippled bank roll, I cannot grow it to as much as I wanted to using GoTime's techniques. I would have been at another +$400 if I had $6 units. It's a high risk and high reward system, but if you are confident with your picks you go big on it. If you lose it, then you grind back with smaller 10U and 20U bets to try to get back to part to be able to do another 30U bet. The goal is to be like 2-1, 3-0 on 30U grand slams a day. There is some level of sustainability and back up plans to execute in case the 30U bet did not work out. It is very improbable for you to lose 10 in a row on well researched picks that the experts in the community have common agreement on. A lot of the times, the lines shift to reward you less for the pick since big money is already on the pick.
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!!!!!DISCLAIMER: DO NOT READ BEYOND HERE IF YOU HATE MATH OR HAVE AN IQ OF < 89!!!!!
Use the chart on: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IQ_classification
Here is a Nice Calculation to do:
📚📑💻Stats 301 Question in Degenalytics💻📑📚**:**
Lastly I asked anyone in the past few days to do a Stats 301 question with Degenalytics Context: To fucking determine the probability that an avg Joe with a $100+100 Bonus Bank-roll or $500 + 250B bank roll can actually pull off the $3000/$7500 grind in some number of N months betting with supposedly 2 full months of real sports (N-2) getting Obliterated by COVID-19. I want you to give me an analytical calculation or a simulation of your work and give me all the possible scenarios.
Then give the final verdict of if that number converges to 0.000% or 100.00% that the average Joe would succeed his false-hope mission for a successful rollover.
In other words think of it like this: If the average joe bets his entire bank roll 12 or more times (roll-over is not x10 because of bookie juice), what is the probability that he will still end up in the green? Also assign a tilt probability factor that the Average Joe would go on some emotional tilt spree to end up bust again? And make it even harder by eliminating 2-3 full months of real sports (N-2.5) and having to bet on Bovada's limited shitty ass lines and shitty live odds.
If you fucking want to eliminate the -2.5 months, then allow the average joe the freedom to bet on N months of e-sports [hahah] and see where that goes.
I had a bad experience betting on e-sports for 2 months and only end up -15-20U. I'm not saying that I lost because I suck at e-sports betting or I tailed the wrong people. The Bovada lines are super shitty and limited. Most of the time, on live esports, all you see are dashed out lines as if they fucking know what the rigged result is and prevent people from doing hedge bets or try to bet opposite spreads when they are winning to guarantee an insurance 1-1 with minimal damage incurred to their bank-roll. The live betting experience on e-sports on the Bovada platform is so bad that you are guaranteed to lose in the long run. Fucking hell Bodog/Bovada even offered me a $250 deposit on 100% bonus after the Rudy Gobert day in Mid March. They advertised the joys and wonders of getting rich betting off esports.
I was so tempted to deposit, however I kind of over-slept and missed out on the dead-line so they closed the bonus offer. Pretty good relief that I did not fuck-up my real credit card and bank account by falling for that scam again. It was an accidental Grace of God moment to fucking avoid that E-sports deposit marketing scam.
BONUS Questions:
A: Calculate the number of months needed and number of successful bets required for the conservative degen 1u bettor to grind out the roll-over playing
$2.00 tug of war with the bookie.
B: Calculate the odds that a professional capper who knows how to adjust unit sizes (1u-5u), do parlays once a while, will succeed the roll-over in some
N-2.5 months or add some e-sports to have fun to keep the N factor.
C.1: Calculate the conditional probabilities for the bettor succeeding in the mission if on the first few days of betting:
i) He loses bet 1 for about $20.
ii) Wins bet 1 for about $20 to earn $17.5.
iii) Goes on a 3 game losing streak
iv) 5 game losing streak
v) Positivity case: The guy got lucky and nearly doubled his bank roll on a decent run from day. Up +100U or $200. [I'm sure that out of bad discipline the average Joe would still go -200U in the long run with a pretty high probability.]
C.2: Determine the mathematical scheme on how the Bookies can use your first few losses to eventually put you in a 60+:40- (Greater than 60% locked in bonus, less than 40% of your deposited money). Bonus:Locked funds ratio.
The Jinx-King answer: It converges to zero [hahaha], but I really am interested in know what other scenarios math and stats people have come up. And your mathematical approaches and formulae used to generate possible scenarios and probabilities. But I think it is safe to say that for the average Joe,the answer is 0.00% success rate. Bodog/Bovada knows this exactly and refuses to put a hiatus on the roll-over deadline. Instead they keep it going so that people can try to wager on e-sports and lose their entire bank roll. They are only interested it getting 100% of your locked funds so that they can buy expensive cruises, yachts, beach mansions, resort packages, etc in Aruba or some other tropical place. Where you got millions of desperate Americans, Canadians in struggling economies with lost jobs and zero positive cash-flow. About 10% or so or perhaps even more deposit money into off-shore gambling websites hoping they can roll-over their bank-roll some ridiculous number of times and make a few bucks to put food on the table.
In fact, it makes matters worst being jobless, having zero cash flow and having locked funds in scamming bookies. If you are not good at casino or sports-betting games, you would have:
A: Lose your entire deposit for failing to grind it out properly.
B: Not grind it out on time on whatever dead-line the roll-over was.
C: Even if you did successfully grind that shit out using conservative 1u betting and play $2 tug of war with the bookie, you will end up just wasting your time grinding it out for hours and hours on end. It would have been better for you to fucking find a job at some farm helping out with harvesting crops or work in meat plants so that food does not go to waste. I bet you I can make more money than your $2 tug of war in one a day picking off cans and bottles off the streets in some exercise walking/running/biking + collection routine then selling it to the recycling center for $0.05-0.25 a unit. Trust me at my university, I spot maybe about 50-200 empty/partially driven cans and bottles left on desks, lecture halls, the floor, libraries, work areas, etc. Supposed that I harvested that shit, I would be making $5-$20 a day collecting it all and going to the recycling center once every week.
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⚖Conclusions⚖:
The fucking company knows this COVID-19 closure shit and want to use it to their advantage to continue to rob millions of their customers. Last week, I tried to call customer service, chat help, email, etc. and management has spoken to plead my case to delay the roll-over dead-line in a pro-rated time frame so that customers with locked balances can resume betting with their full balance when Game 1 of any Major League Sport actually returns. They give me the same bull-shit over and over saying they decline my request. For what reason?

1. The terms and conditions written in fine print for accepting the bonus conversion challenge. "Rules are Rules."
2. They were aware my deadline of June 22 at 19:23 ET was approaching soon. They knew I was on a mission to salvage my bank roll before they yank out the 60-75U trapped in bonus balances (i.e. Ghost money). By the end of it, I realize I made a foolish mistake. Most of my wins were just from bonus money and I was rewarded $0.00 on righteous wins on expired bonuses.

Therefore Bonus money only earns bonus money which put my entire bank-roll in a 80:20 ratio where the bookies control 80U in ghost money. By the end of the roll-over deadline, they get to yank out 80U of my balance at the deadline and left me with about $100 (20U) bank roll to regrind.

1. They knew I was winning consistently making solid picks.

During my 110 hour marathon over the brutal grind of losing more than 70 hours of work, leisure and recreation; 35 hours of sleep; to a fucking impossible grind of trying to roll over some 60% of $7500 on sports I have little knowledge of capping (i.e. E-sports, Table Tennis, European football) after a few days of studying the game, I was picking up my stride to grind it to 91%. They fucking knew that if I had another day to grind, they would be coughing up +$600-800 of withdrawable balance to my account.
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Bio:😎📚🎓👨‍🎓
I am a Fucking PHD Candidate (2-6 months from graduating and not having to pay another round of BS tuition) who does a shitload of mathematics, statistics, simulations, mathematical physics, wrote scientific papers. I've won T.A. Awards, Government/Provincial/Institutional level scholarships, Conference presentations, with even Undergrad honors back in the day. DM me if you need a fucking CV to prove my fucking credentials.
Why am I able to write a lot of shit? Because my fucking brain operates on some max level Intel Xeon chip on overclock mode and I cannot do much to shut it down other than going to sleep. They only way is to write articles that I think might benefit the community.
I have a crazy interest in sports and Degen'ing. I love to fucking put action on sports games, be proud about making the correct calls on the outcome of games before it happens, and then boast to my circle of competitive friends about who's the fucking Boss. As tabboo as society think us degens are, I think this absolute BS. There is a pure enjoyment in watching sports and having action on it. It is nice to get paid beer money to cover a round for your buddies, or earn that rent money over a successful night of betting on shit you actually enjoy watching. Fuck I rather make $300 for one evening of enjoying sports rather than working a 9-5 dull job to try to afford rent/mortgage. If I can fucking pay off all my monthly expenses in 3 fucking successful nights of 3 hr sessions of sports matches, that would be ideal. I would take the lather over a 9-5 rat-race grind.
Overall I am "PRO" in the debate for local single sports betting bookies to be established in Canada. Get these fucking scamming off-shore books like bodog/Bovada who contribute only contribute "Bagel" to the Canadian Economy, but instead make it worst by scamming the masses of hard working or desperate people to leak out some sum of billions of dollars of national GDP. Probably the same applies to all American States, that people should not have to cough up their hard earned $$$$ to off-shore scamming bookies. I shall write an article about this later to justify my arguments later.
Ultimately I my goal is to obliterate or negate the influence of all the cons, scamming bookies, and false touts out there who are just interested in stealing people's $$$. To write out full studies on exposing their schemes in an objective lens.
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Calling me out: (Think I cannot track these pussy downvotes? I know you cowards 😂😜😎)
If you think I'm full of BS, then send me a personal DM to have a 1v1 argument the same way that Stephen A debates sports with Max Kellerman. You can downvote me or flame me with empty hate talk all you want on public threads. But don't be a fucky pussy by avoiding a debate with me. Trust me, I'm going to win and be the last one to state a real point that you will have no comeback for [haha]. Lastly, if you are open to discuss or debate with me about some issues, do some resarch/exploration, betting strategies, etc., I would love your collaboration in some projects I got going on.
Ultimately, I should help every honest worker strive towards Degen success or if not, just to purely enjoy putting action on sports games. If you are too full of yourself, then you are on your own, I bid thee adieu, and wish you all the best. However you will be absolutely declined to all services and counsel I work to provide to friends for free.
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Social Media📺🎬
Some extra Resource to how I got to this point in my mission.
Here it is for starters:
June 23, 2020: The Impossible Pursuit Reddit/sportsbook/Brag and Bitch (Tuesday)
June 24, 2020: Doubling Bank roll and rewarded Bagel: Reddit/sportsbook/Brag and Bitch (Wednesday)
June 24, 2020: How can you win 5 in a row and lose it all simultaneously? Reddit/sportsbook/What is your most impressive win?
Full Twiiter: https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5
All my media: https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/media
Discord: ????? To be solved.
Challenges: Got a few right in progress now and a couple of drafts I am working on.
The Jinxking Crusade (In progress): https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/status/1275516258822131714?s=20
Turns out many people cannot withdraw anything out of Bovada/bodog due to some website glitches. Will try to recover a bankroll to attempt a withdrawal, however I am likely to have the same issues too. They will make some lame excuse to not give me a cheque. Definitely no point of pursuing anything in bovada/bodog if they refuse to give you withdrawables. The goal is to get their website off outta here. As well as get them out of advertisements. They definitely pulled off some "Get the fucking money and run scheme" and you will likely not see your money again. GG
The Jinxking Challenge (In progress): https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/status/1275661929940467713?s=20
Want to expose a bad tout who over prices the service and has a mediocre record? Tail and fade to call their their BS or mediocre non profiting record out. Also good for finding legitimate winners too. This will be a mission to expose shitty touts on Twitter the way Penn & Teller exposes BS in the market.

Guide to FemaleDatingStrategy (v20200910).
It's been a long journey I made for you, bluepilled brothers, so that you won't make my mistakes.
This guide's purpose is to allow you to throughly understand FDS as fast as possible.
TL;DR: https://www.reddit.com/starterpacks/comments/f5wp81
GET YOUR RED PILL FIRST
I assume the reader took the red pill. If you have, skip to the next paragraph: "the subreddit". If you haven't, then read the mgtow wiki or read this very personal summary of mine: "women's romantic life is solely emotion driven and they feel love for a man if and only if a relationship with him is her current best option to maximize security (wealth) and excitement (looks/status), otherwise he's to her nothing more than a (useful or not) tool". The result is that at least 80% men are invisible to women and the rest are seen as "average", with only the very top deemed as desirable: this phenomenon is called "hypergamy". For further info, read the last two entries of "the database".
THE SUBREDDIT
My sources are the posts which were shared on FDSredpills.
FDS ideology is nothing new or fringe, it is built in women's natural instincts, so it was always applied. The news is that they have now an outlet to talk about it without fear of judgement, thanks to anonymity, so we're noticing only now. We shall not fear to make them feel exposed, the tragedy of the commons guarantees they will keep doing so.
FDS is widespread: it was 2019's second fastest growing subreddit. Also consider that 2/3 of reddit's users are males, so in other to compare FDS's size to other subreddits, you shall multiply it by a factor of 2, since FDS allows only women to join (I was banned without ever partecipating). FDS is based in the USA.
FDS's user base overlaps with genderCritical (a lot) (EDIT: it got banned, it was basically like FDS without dating advice, only radical feminism), purplePillDebate (best place to confront them, since askFDS is heavily moderated), but also WitchesVsPatriarchy, ie feminine charm vs the world (aka men's faults, to be countered through manipulation, without a minute of work). But most importantly an FDSer is 30 times more likely to participate in askWomenOver30 and datingOverThirthy, which means she is 30 times more likely to be over 30yo, which is really telling: young women don't spend time on FDS (...nor reddit, I think). Maybe because FDS's ideology is rooted in 1900's social norms, but surely and by far (ie FDS won't be forgotten, quite the contrary, as the old millennium fades) because being an FDSer requires a level of cynicism, realism and self reflection which young women, lost in their adventures, haven't attempted to reach yet, because they don't have a reason to, since they're wined and dined by most humans. Not that FDSers reached some truths, but they attempted to, and they reached wrong conclusions they drew from their faulty reasoning, which I'll explain.
CULTURAL EVOLUTION OUTLINE
Like any other subreddit, the progressive influx of normies is blunting it's original spirit (like MGTOW and it's libertarian origins). In the beginning FDS was open to anyone, men included, and we regularly called out their crazyness. The three waves of ideologies influenced FDS in this order: feminism, gold digging, romanticism. Since FDS doesn't allow "standard shaming" (but I think also due to women's excessive agreeableness), each of these ideologies included and extended the previous without criticism, even when this merge results in a contradiction, as we will see. It can only get more entitled, never less. No amount of newcomers will make earlier ideologies disappear, but they will overshadow them in numbers, which is what happened to gold digging: it gets little upvotes compared to the rest, but it is present nonetheless. So what's happening is that over time the main FDS ideology becomes the intersection of all the previous ones.
THE SAD BEGINNING
The sub was created on 2019/02/27. In the beginning it was rants,feminist rants. Rants of the kind "we're all beautiful", "men are awful" etc etc. The subreddit was open to men at that time, who ruined the circle jerk. It wasn't really "dating strategy", it was "accept yourself and blame men". Then around September 2019 the current mods came, and brought with them a new soul. The sub was closed to men and flairs were made based on the following concepts.
THE STRATEGY
This change brought a new culture, an actual dating strategy : gold digging. Terms like "pickmeisha" (a woman who shows interest in man in hope to get "picked", instead of manipulating him), "builder"(a pickmeisha who may slightly improve her man's life by helping him, instead of just leeching, a privilege reserved for chads of course), "dusty"(insult for a man who earns less than 100k per year or doesn't spend it all to brainlessly spoil his woman), "prize" ( ie "High Value Woman", ie a woman who rejects dusties due to high standards) and "level up" (the subtitle in the FDS logo, "looksmax to manipulate men into upgrading the relationship to a sugar relationship", vindicta style), were inherited by Sheraseven1, a dark triad sociopathic (and bragging about it, "I like to play the villain and make people mad") youtuber (second place on FDS's recommended youtubers...just for political correctness, she's actually first) who at 20yo (early 2000s) took some (now illegal) drugs to lose all her wheight, then fucked around 2 years, then spent years as sugar baby for a rich married family man twice her age, wrecked his home to openly marry him just for his money ("gold digger" by Kanye West played at the wedding) and had two daughters with him (and she made sure he can't divorce without going bankrupt). Now she's a stay at home mom who spends time advising women to do the same and shaming regular women for having a job instead of leeching off a man ("I'd feel stupid for having a job and going to work"). She's literally female PUA, but on a whole new level: (notice the difference in damage compared to a male PUA) she advocates for lying, stealing, blackmailing... generally anything she can get away with to "get further in life", ie get richer, her only aspiration. And I mean anything. She'd advocate for killing is she could. She's basically a super sugar baby, the "no engagement ring, no sexual exclusivity" rule come from her. This ideology gave FDS peak entitlement. It may surprise you, but this is the only even remotely logical part of FDS.
From the Sheraseven1 culture, another youtuber emerged : "Deborah Cooper". Her ideas align with FDS 100%: it's gold digging and entitlement (just like sheraseven1) BUT without overt intentions. It's more subtle and there's an attempt to justify it with "traditional roles" and/or "human nature". While Sheraseven1 admits she's scamming men, Cooper does not. It's basically Sheraseven1 but encoded by the hamster (the fictional module of the female brain which allows them to justify anything which benefits their narrative by means of poor logic, if even) making it more politically correct. Nothing new under the sun, they're basically the same youtuber.
Also, if you visit the comment sections of those channels and watch the profile pictures: let's see if you recognize a pattern. They're black like almost all their audience: I suspect the general greater poverty in the black population and the jealousy enticed by the media make black women become very materialistic. For this reason I suspect FDS members are more likely to be black (for a deeper analysis on this, view the "Strong, Independent Black Women" section from this other article about FDS https://solitarybeast.com/blog/n62bswb9x9vqodr6njmvblqwd3fueo ).
Disclaimer : i support BLM and the fight of the black community against racism and inequality in any form imaginable, including reparations, world without end, amen.
THE TWO FEMINISMS
"Liberal feminism", ie "men and women are equal" was rejected by gold diggers, since female empowerment (like Mao's hard working iron ladies) didn't suit their parasitic aspirations. But a broader definition of feminism could include gold digging. And this is the first example of FDS "ideology extention". Indeed all forms of feminism have one thing in common: they have as sole objective to improve the living conditions of women, at any cost. What differentiates them is "how".
A poor woman is concerned for her wealth and the wealth of her family (men excluded, they're just a tool), so she will happily exchange her sexual freedom to acquire material wealth. A rich woman instead is not, a man is of no use to her (except for sperm, but that's cheap and easy to get), so she's not willing to sacrifice her sexual freedom for security, because men can't provide any further. Furthermore, the poor woman sees the traditional family role as a tool to reach her goal (security), while the rich woman sees it as a hindrance preventing her to reach her own goal (climb the social dominance hierarchy). Notice that rich and poor are relative terms. If the poor woman becomes rich enough, she will update her goals to the rich woman's mindset. The poor woman is a "Radical Feminist", the rich woman is a "liberal feminist", both are feminists, both's ultimate goal is further improving women's condition, but being in different situations in life they would benefit from different social norms. Notice that radical feminists can also believe that women shall have the right to become liberal feminists if they want, so radical feminists appear to demand more than liberal feminists. The train of society has to choose which rail to take, and they're fighting at the steering wheel, risking to derail. Men benefit from this because it shows them that neither of the two social setups is godsent, natural or absolutely right, but just an invention for the exclusive benefit of women.
But what does "poor" and "rich" mean? It is not computed on a contious level: women detect the inability to spoil themselves as much as they wish (which is influenced by their instinctive jealousy and social media) as "weakness" and they look for "shelter" aka "love" aka "resources" in men, which makes men attractive in their eyes. Lack of resources is interpreted as lack of love, ie that man is incapable of loving or "make her feel loved", since women can't tell the difference between feelings and reality. Again it is not an excuse, it is not contious, they actually feel it. Some also realize and implement this rationally, but the feeling is always there, feeling is the source of their will. The attraction and repulsion can be real. Women can actually fall in love for their providers (women's orgasm correlates with the man's income). But deep down they don't care about the man, they care about the "love" or "romance" their man gives them, which are actually just signs of submission to her wishes, and also power to fulfill them (a submissive but powerless man is just a liability, since it does not provide the resources she wants, and keeps her occupied, freezing her dating strategy).
PRACTICAL FEMINISM
Both feminists in case of failure will try to bend the rules of society in their favor : radical feminists by playing the victim and demanding welfare (which is basically forcing men into being providers without even the illusion, for the few who still fall for it, of being loved), liberal feminists by demanding discriminatory behavior in favor of them, often masked as equality.
Notice that both their arguments are just excuses. I wouldn't spend time debunking them, it's shooting a decoy. Their objective is improving their lives. Nothing else.
Can't they try to honestly better themselves instead of cheating the system? Hardly ever, because women's competition plane instinctually is social relations, and not material reality, which is men's, at least according to my knowledge of evolutionary psycology. It's not that they're incapable of it, just like men aren't incapable of deciding based on their emotions, it's just that their instincts encourage some problem solving techniques more than others, and those techniques, being the most common factor among women, tend to prevail in group mentality, which they abide to by default.
THE THREE SOULS
Poor and rich women, ie liberal and radical feminists, came to coexist in FDS. The resulting ideology is the intersection of the two which has only one fixed belif: men shall behave to benefit women (by bending the competition in their favor or by offering them bailout by prodiving).
The beauty standards of actual gold diggers were dropped in favor of "every woman is beautiful", "you are enough", etc etc. While "men are evil", which came from feminism, was kind of replaced with "men are evil and so we will be, unless they do what we say, in which case they're masculine and virtuous", which came from gold digging.
The feminist gold-digging axis was born. This should not surprise, every movement has different voices. What should surprise is that some users (but not all of them) are capable of believing in both at the same time. This internal contradiction is further proof of the fact that FDS is driven from a philosophy, it is instead the justification, the excuse, the front which these women, subconsciously or not, put up to look credible to themselves, among themselves, and for outsiders like us.
But there's a third voice to add to this infernal chorus. A new influx of newcomers broadened it's ideology even more: romantic women.
Romantic women are regular women (Pickmeishas) who discovered that their instincts are not in synch with reality. They still hope to find the husband they dream of. They are responsible for the most double-standards free content on FDS.
All FDSers wish the same things, because hypergamy is the same for all of them, their thirst won't ever be quenched, they'll just bleed you dry and then move on (if they can). But romantic women lack the self awareness to formulate demands for their men, or the arrogance and entitlement to stand up for them. So while gold diggers and feminists can tell what they want (so by obeying you can be blameless), the best romantic women can do is complaining to their man that their emotions are bad and he shall fix them. So romantic women not only demand what gold diggers demand, but in addition you must also be their therapist: 24/7, for ever.
Just like porn sites give Erectile dysfunction to men, so social media gives hypergamy dysfunction to women. How many men free from porn you know? How many women free from social media you know? Men crave sex and burn themselves with porn, women seek hypergamy and burn themselves with luxurious sights. The difference is that women want men to pay for the consequences of their behavior.
There is a very unlikely exception : if the romantic woman lacks contact with consumerism (very unlikely, due to social media) and lacks friends she can be jealous of, then her concept of hypergamy may be limited to relatively modest demands and a man may be able to manage her. In any other instance, gold diggers and feminists are actually less demanding than romantic women, because they'll bestow you responsibility to quench their demands only, and not also their emotions (which you have no control over).
Notice that the woman's happiness is not required to have a relationship : she can be unhappy and stay regardless due to lack of better options. But if you want a woman to be happy with you, then a gold digger is a safer bet: she won't love you, but you'll have a way to make her happy, since she won't see you as responsible for her emotions, but just her bank account.
So these were FDS's three souls: brutally rational gold diggers, hateful feminists and sad romantic gals. Everyone actually behaves according to their emotions (which drive hypergamy), which are the same for everyone of them and they generate the worst of each world, the only difference between them is in how they see themselves and the justifications they come up with : this is what gives FDS the illusion of variety.
CONCLUSIONS
So what does FDS actually look like? Keep in mind that this is just a bunch of excuses they tell themselves. What they actually believe is that their wishes shall be met no matter what, and in absence of that they will quit any social role in order to fulfill them, ie they will act in their best self interest... which they were already doing, but they can't admit it because it would ruin their front, which women are instinctually very concerned about, due to their social nature.
What this entitlement boils down to is: "rejecting men's proposals entitles me to a rich dominant simping chad who effortlessly reads my mind and satisfies my emotions without making me feel controlled, manipulating me, lying to me or ever failing me, also he asks for nothing but a smile in return, and when I don't give it to him he strives to please me, even at the cost of his life".
FDS's moderators ideology is a subset of FDS's ideology, and it is best grasped by looking at the post history of its moderators ("ruthless strategist" flair), it is on their culture (approximately 70% gold digging and radical feminism + 30% liberal feminism + 0% romanticism) that the sub has been molded (ie posts or comments removed and users banned). But the actual ideology of FDSers is more varied, as I described, because mods both can't and have no interest in being too strict.
Here is a list of concepts you can encounter while exploring FDS in the wild, followed by my personal notes. Feel free to contribute. This was FDS_historian, encouraging you to full monk,visit MGTOW, MGTOW2 and ProMaleCollective, and remember that shrugging feminism off to show resilience encourages the situation to get worse: it's exactly what they want.
UPDATE 20200910
In 1.5 years from it's creation and just 1 year of activity, FDS got lots reached 100k. As expected, the Pickmeisha aka romantic women influx is getting worse. And FDS noticed: https://np.reddit.com/FemaleDatingStrategy/comments/ir0xp1/fds_is_a_specific_way_to_date_its_not_just_an_all/ , https://np.reddit.com/FemaleDatingStrategy/comments/ipr0w3/pickme_pickme_pickme/ . These new FDSers argue that all the entitlement and predatory mindset should be confined to the vetting/dating stage and relinquished in favor of equality when the relationship is established (by that time hypergamy has already done it's job, so it's equality of effort and not outcome). Of course, in case a man is bluepilled enough to actually believe he can relax after the initial stages, these newbie FDSers will feel neglected and divorce rape him. So what's happening here is NOT a lowering of the standards, but only a lowering of the self awareness of the standards they require in order not to divorce rape their husband. Due to this dumbing down of the narrative, the redpilling power of FDS is at risk. In other words : FDS is becoming a regular dating subreddit (where women lack self awareness) and the mods are letting it happen in order to increase their user base. A news which hasn't got the deserved attention is the fact that the mods just recruited lots of new mods to help them. This is relevant because what kept FDS safe from the influx of Pickmeishas was the fact that the mods had very extreme views (ie they had lots of self awareness). So now that the mod ruling ideology is weakened by a regression to the mean, FDS will become even more inclusive and average. Be advised, FDS is gonna be boring. It's the end of an era. FDS made a post about this "update" of mine : https://np.reddit.com/FemaleDatingStrategy/comments/ivasyb/i_cant_believe_this_male_combs_through_our_sub/ . They think i'm wrong and FDS is not changing. And the reason for that is... they're already the second wave! They never knew the original spirit... or they don't realize the change. Yeah I think i'm better than the average FDSer at seeing the bigger picture. If you still aren't convinced : https://www.reddit.com/FDSredpills/comments/ixitsw/old_fds_vs_new_fds_they_find_themselves_one_next .
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THE DATABASE
"FDS is for maximum female benefit". Is false, Proof: a woman cheapest and fastest way to recognize "low value males" from the start is to have sex with them on the first date, so that they reveal themselves by disappearing or ceasing effort straightaway, because only "high value men" keep madly simping after sex. So It's half an hour work with 0 additional risks (dangerous men are dangerous regardless of her consent) if done with appropriate protection... but instead they opt to waste months "testing" a probably dead end relationship. So why not testing with sex? Because it would decrease the global price of sex, which they count on (even if they pretend not to) to try control men! Individually every woman would benefit from using sex as test, but collectively if every woman does it then no man would put up with their entitlement. FDS is not the optimal strategy for a woman, it's the optimal strategy for a cartel, because that's what FDS is, or at least attempts to be.
"Men need us, we don't need men". They think they are magical creatures men cannot live without. Power trip robably caused by all the attention they recieved from 12 to 30. Sustained by the assumption that men want children, can afford FDSers but cannot afford surrogate mothers (it's false, surrogacy is cheaper).
"FDS is not about attracting the man you want, FDS is about rejecting men you don't want". They think that since many men try to have sex with them, then the problem is not getting attention, but filtering It. It's like being bombed with advertisements so much that you don't bother to look for products anymore, you just select among the advertised ones. Don't look for logic, there human brain is hardly ever rational, try instead to grasp their instinct, their spirit.
"Men are disposable, they are machines whose sole purpose is to serve women, who shall be the absolute priority in the relationship, be pampered and spoiled." They make poor use of darwinism as justification for their demands. They don't think that men's life should get harder in relationships, because men shall be workhorses by default, so that having a relationship is not an additional burden, but the redirection of their energies to something he loves: a female (that should be enough for him to go through hell). So what men and women are bringing to the relationship is just "presence", where a man's presence means having a workhorse, and a woman's presence means a woman's presence.
"Women are empathetic and men refuse to be, out of selfishness, because they don't care about women". They mistake men's impossibility of managing women's emotional instability for "lack of empathy", assuming it would solve any problem in the relationship. It's just a way to blame men for everything.
"Men feel entitled to sex and a family, and this is wrong, they aren't all supposed to make it into the gene pool". They think it is their right to decide who has "the privilege" of making it into the next generation, basically eugenics to benefit feminism.
"Since it happens in some species, men shall kill each other for women". They think they are "the prize" which rewards the best man, and by best they mean the one who manages to dominate all others, by any means necessary: it is the birth of competition, the birth of capitalism, which they fail to distinguish from "the patriarchy", a mythological oppressive superstructure favoring men.
"men are responsible for capitalism". A way to claim to be an innocent victim who deserves to be rescued because her difficulties are caused by her deliberate refusal to partecipate in something which harms others, and not incompetence. Basically they want men at war but women at peace.
"Men shall try to impress women at the cost of their lives if necessary". They think that them being impressed is the only metric by which men who make it into the next generation shall be selected. No matter the efforts, unless a man manages to impress a woman he's as unworthy as if he didn't try, he's, subcontiously or not, deemed as sub human.
"Modern men are feminine and lazy". They define masculinity as what benefits them and then use it to shame men who don't conform, like ww1's white feathers. They think modern men are malfunctional and have relinquished their role as men, becoming leeches , a privilege which shall be exclusive to women.
"Pornography encourages trafficking and violence against women, and ruins their lives, just like sex work". They are against pornography and sex work because it takes the sexual monopoly away from them. They justify it by saying that it hurts women, so they can demand it to be banned (the same does not apply to the blood diamonds they demand as engagement rings). Sex addicted men are seen as beneficiaries of the situation. If questioned about how 3d pornography and hentai hurt women, they use the old excuse which was used with violent videogames: "it teaches men to enjoy awful things".
"Feminism is bad". They mean liberal feminism. The OP must be a radical feminist damaged from liberal feminists' narrative.
"Men's good appearance is a sign of virtue". Lookism. They claim that good looking guys (handsome, tall, muscular, big penis, well dressed, stylish, charismatic...) are virtuous in order not to expose their shallow preferences for looks, because it would discourage the 90% men they find unattractive to act "virtuously", ie chivalrously, ie in favor of them.
"I leveled up from my ex and now I'm lonely" woman left her ex to get a better man but she failed. comments help to cope by telling her that she doesn't need a man and better men are ahead.
"I dumped my guy for a better one but he left". This post appears periodically, nothing inherent to FDS, hypergamy often fails.
"My friends are marrying and I'm worried I'll be alone" or "How do you cope with the fact that HVM don't exist?" or "Most men are trash, what now?". These always get answered with "lol trash" or "you have to be comfortable on your own first!", to change the focus of the thread.
"high maintenaince is a compliment". It means the woman needs men so little that she gains so much contractual power that she can ask for a lot, it is a display of power.
"It's the bare minimum". everything a man does is given for granted ( due to his "masculinity", ie being a slave), and all a woman should do is to just approve or disapprove his work with clues the man shall correctly interpret by paying constant attention.
"mirror the behavior which makes you feel bad, if he repents accept him back, otherwise leave him". This advice applies even when it doesn't make sense.
"He does a lot and I'm really grateful but I want more". She acknowledges her feelings are nonsense but she still sides with them at his expenses.
"He was awesome but I couldn't forgive his looks" or "there was no chemistry". Insufficient looks are a deal breaker. Chemistry is the term women use for looks when they lack sufficient introspection to understand they shallowness.
"He is awesome but after all this time I lost my feelings for him". Usually a woman in a multi-year relationship gets bored, FDS recommends to leave because a man is responsible for his woman's feelings. Failure to manage her emotions is a deal breaker.
"men behave badly, so we also can", "I was a saint until now, now I have the right to be evil". It's just a front to justify their insanity, FDS is built into women's instincts: it's inescapable. What actually happened is the following. They first date model-looking guys and go all-in with them, despite the little effort they show. They hope to "change them" into good guys through their love, like buying a cheap old house to refurbish it into a great one, but these guys have been in so many relationships (thanks to all women following the exact same logic) that they got redpilled by experience, so they don't simp. She gets hurt and leaves. She then gives a chance to non-model looking guys only if they promise her the impossible, to compensate for their looks. She eventually finds one who does promises it to her, she waits for him to deliver before committing because she "learnt the lesson" with her ex, which is a lie, she can't love him due to his looks. When the guy fails to deliver the impossible she goes to FDS to say that all men are the same and she'd rather stay alone. Now if she's rich she becomes a liberal feminism, if she's poor she becomes a radical one.
"leave anyone who doesn't match your effort". First they lock down a man more productive than them, then they demand the same amount of effort, resulting in inequality of value brought to the relationship. It's hypergamy at it's finest, just female nature. Anyway they don't actually demand effort. If the man satisfies her fantasies then they don't care about effort, otherwise they say "you are low effort", because that's not something measurable, so they can always throw cheap accusation at it without need to justify their claims, then it's his responsibility to change her mind, which she won't do until he satisfies her. What they actually demand is results, they don't care about effort.
"If he puts too much effort, it's love bombing, he's low value". A man who puts too much effort is viewed as struggling to keep up with her requests, or preemptively working harder than necessary because he has something to compensate for, or one who catches extreme feelings too easily, so he's deemed as unstable. Women never positively care about effort, but just results. The only time they consider effort is to complain.
"He didn't respect me". She relabels anything she wants as "respect" and then demands to be respected, it also works with other words like "love" and "care".
"High Value Male". A man who does "the bare minimum" in the relationship: he deliberately, enthusiastically and effortlessly satisfies all the wishes of the FDS woman without fail, without her ever telling him about them. Basically he should read her mind. All of this while being, handsome, fit, rich and powerful. He should also be able to control her emotions, (FDS calls it: "not make me suffer"), without ever lying, manipulating or enquiring her. 100% impossible. It's basically an excuse to dump guys when they don't feel like staying with them (ie, when hypergamy fails).
"Low value male". Is a man who is not a HVM. They see a HVM as the bare minimum a man shall do, and failing to do so exposes lack of ability or enthusiasm in doing so, which is a deal breaker either way.
"He's so amazing" or "He was so awful". These are where she either praises her boyfriend or critiques her ex, to show how good she is to keep him or strong to have left him.
"Am I overreacting?". OP asks if her feelings are detached from reality. To FDS the answer is always no, because if she reacts negatively then he's guilty of not keeping up with her emotions, so he failed his role as boyfriend, and she's rightfully reacting. Yes it's a circular argument. Very rarely FDS answers "investigate more before judging", never "Don't worry".
"if we all refused to have sex then men would do anything to have it back". FDS's dream, enslaving all men by withholding sex (except chad, they can't and don't want to resist him). It wouldn't work because those few men who currently have sex don't value it because they've had it cheap for a lifetime, and others don't value it because they're used to live without it. It's like Trump's sanctions against China, they just encourage China to learn to be independent. Even worse if not all women adhere to the sex strike , then the men who have regular sex wouldn't even notice it because the residual partners would be more than enough to keep him satisfied.
"if he doesn't spend on you he doesn't love you". From the gold digging heart of FDS.
"the best or nothing, I won't settle for less". FDS doesn't care if their standards are out of this world. They take it as a display of independence. The result is a pipeline from the dating world to WGTOW, which no woman would ever directly choose. Indeed FDS is basically WGTOW with a mask. We shouldn't mistake the enormous difference between in WGTOW and FDS's size for "women need men" or "women want men", women want to be spoiled and when they fail to acquire that they leave the dating scene (bc it's the only thing they care about). They don't want nor need us, just what we can do for them.
"We don't need men! Let's network, help our communities, etc etc". FDS hopes to replace the attention it gets from dating with real world interactions, it rarely works since they seek money and power, and romantic men are those who want to give it to them the most, nobody can match it.
"Don't trust your emotions, trust your gut". They usually associate "emotions" to loving feelings and "gut" to repulsive feelings, so basically what they're saying is "be suspicious of good intuitions and always believe bad intuitions", it's another way to have near zero tolerance.
"it's not about money". What they mean is that having lots of money is not necessary. What instead is definitely necessary is to be able to provide an expensive and luxurious lifestyle (which costs lots of money): vacations, days off, time and money to periodically to outperform your last date and her friend's last date, etc etc. But strictly speaking, theoretically, is not about money. That's why FDS claims that most men could be High Value if they wanted (they forget that to "impress" them one shall be better than most guys, by definition).
"don't tell men about FDS, men have lots of manipulation tactics, so we can do anything we want". They think most men are PUAs because they make lots of noise and flood dating apps, just another excuse, they always did this, way before PUAs. Women manipulated men way before men manipulated women, it's their nature, not men's.
"manipulative! dump him!". Most common comment. To FDS, a woman experiencing negative emotions is always caused by a manipulative tactic by her man: it's a false flag to justify extreme reactions.
"You are enough". A phrase they repeat themselves menaning they are enough to land a HVM. They think men should prove their worth, ie show their beauty, and not the other way around (women are inherently worthy), so if the woman is beautiful or not, it doesn't matter. Yes it's a non sequitur. They think that "beautiful women can also be treated poorly", so it's not about beauty : " it increases the quantity and not the quality of men". Judging women's beauty is seen as shallow and sexist, while judging men's is seen as "their natural, godsent role".
"Am I a High Value Woman?". FDS acknowledges that women can be low value by being lazy, "leveling up" includes working on herself. The issue here is that they think that a little self help makes them deserving a HVM. The definition of leveling up changes according to the speaker: for gold diggers it is looksmaxing and acquiring a predatory mindset , for all the others it is having small achievements which make her proud of herself, like a job or a degree. But what if an FDSer can't acquire any of those things? Can FDS tell a woman who can't land a HVM that it's her fault? of course not! Shall she change herself for a man? of course not, that's what a Pickmeisha would do! So the alternative one fit all "level up" definition is : "a HVW is a woman who is not a Pickmeisha", ie "a woman who rejects men she does not like". How is that sufficient to be a HVW? Again, two interpretations of the same thing. Gold diggers see that (not being a Pickmeisha) as putting an arbitrary price tag on themselves and waiting for someone to prove them right by paying the price, and therefore making them a HVW. Other FDSers instead think that a woman is inherently valuable thanks to her sexuality, and retaining that power (by rejecting men) is sufficient to keep themselves desirable. Kind or semen retention for women, kind of pussy retention. The reasoning is similar to the one of gold diggers, but it does not require a man to buy her in order to validate her, so it's easier to acquire.
"how can i get revenge?". FDS advices block and delete and ignore as form of revenge since "the best revenge is being happy without him". Example post: https://www.reddit.com/FDSredpills/comments/hvpxnc/
"men love to be rejected". FDS interprets a "man doing something" as a "man wishing to do something" (it's projection, and it generates the myth of the patriarchy). So the fact that when she rejects him he wishes to prove himself to her even more is interpreted as "he loves being rejected".
"We don't need men!". It's true. But they do need to stop their jealousy towards engaged friends who managed to control their emotions better than them or have a simp as boyfriend. It's all a matter of status to women, if they feel lucky, they're happy, otherwise they're sad. So the default cope for FDS is "I feel lucky being alone rather than with a man who make me suffer". This is what FDS actually accomplished.
"My time is valuable, he shall act accordingly". By spending time with him she's losing other opportunities, so he shall compensate. Notice that he's not compensating for her actual opportunities, but for the one she expects she has.
"LVM can take years to reveal themselves". They noticed that most men fail to keep up with them forever and they interpret it as "here is his true nature!". They recommend vetting (aka shit testing) for years.
"He's not your friend, he's your man, save your empathy for women, children and pets". Men are tools and the fact that she uses him (and not someone else) should be enough to make him crave to continue ("i'm her only slave!"), because she's a queen in his eyes, and if he "fails to see that", he's low value, not masculine.
"LOL". They laugh at men's failure to please them, it's a way to celebrate their high standards.
"Don't be a for ever girlfriend". He shall propose marriage soon, but not too soon otherwise it's "love bombing". One year is the sweet spot. The reason for this is that it's a crippling contract for him, which shows submission. FDS advices women not to marry if not financially convenient, ie when the man is poorer than the woman.
"Emotional labor". This term refers to the woman's emotional management activity, which takes place when her man fails to do it for her. This concept is brought up when the woman wants to show that she's also doing some work in the relationship. She will claim that she's working to compensate for his "lack of empathy" or something similar, implying that she is the one compensating for his lack emotional work. They enhance the toll of this imaginary activity to insane levels when they want to claim they're the one putting most of the effort in the relationship. I suspect that this may sometimes look true from their point of view, but most of the times they know it's bs.
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