Last night the Remote Control Terrorist’s cat The Evil Dr. Sprinkles stretched out between my knees and ankle for only the Great and Powerful Oz knows how long. The result was a scream-worthy Charley horse in one of my calves. I blame Brian Christopher.
Before explaining who this miscreant is, there’s something you need to know about me. I love slot machines. Considering my financial circumstances, it’s a good thing the closet casino to me is 3 hours away and I’ve only been there twice.
I’m not a people person although I can fake that shit like Meryl Streep on steroids. In my twenties I considered Las Vegas to be filled with garish, boorish and any other derogatory –ish people I could imagine. (I could probably come up with a few more –ishes what with being a writer, but besides the Charley horse, I also only got two hours of sleep last night so I’m functioning on very few brain cells and way too much coffee right now. Thanks, Brian!)
I went to Vegas for the first time because the roof truss manufacturing company where I worked took their employees there each year. My condescension evaporated while I watched my best friend at the time keep hitting double-or-nothing on a small bet at a slot machine until she cashed out $600. (For the record, I kept yelling at her to stop.) That’s all it took to get me hooked.
This company operated in the good old days before political correctness ran amok. Employees received penis water pistols for Christmas and got drunk on the flight back from Vegas while wearing paper cartoon balloons over their heads which said, “Who farted?”
The biggest winning streak I ever had was on a short 4-hour trip. I hit $500 the first 5 minutes and hit $300 twice after that. Usually I make just enough to keep me there for the duration of my stay and then I go home broke and wondering why I used the money for the electric bill to finance my gambling.
Before you judge me for portraying myself as a gambling addict, I’m 61 years old and have only been to Vegas 5 times and other casinos 5 times. Once every 4 years isn’t that bad, is it? What would be bad is screwing up the math involved in my previous statement, but I really can’t be bothered to double check it.
I’ve had quite a few adventures in Vegas, including being arrested. Sorta.
Check out where Sgt. Sexxy’s hand is. I literally did not realize she copped a feel until I saw the photo. Damn, I’m fucking old!
But enough about me. This is supposed to be about the reason I stayed up until 6:30 am watching YouTube videos and playing penny slots on my computer. (Not with real money. I’m not a total imbecile.)
This is about Brian Christopher. In preparation for a trip to the Kickapoo Lucky Eagle Casino, I discovered that there are people on YouTube who film their slot play. I discovered Brian’s YouTube Channel and immediately wanted to be his new best friend whether he liked it or not. I’ve now added sitting next to him at a slot machine until he calls security on me to my bucket list.
It turns out besides sticking hundred dollar bills in slot machines on a regular basis, he’s an actor. I watched a clip of him on IMDb and he did such a good job getting his brains blown out, I’m hoping he’ll soon be cast in The Walking Dead.
His tagline is #Rude! and he says it when a slot machine teases him like a future trophy wife sucking her way into never having to sign a prenuptial agreement.
One of my favorite videos of his is when he tries to be gangsta. If Brian were a dog, he’d look like this.
I’m pretty sure in a previous life, Brian was this cat.
Besides having fun watching his videos, I’m amused that so many of them contain the ad for Poopourri. Ten bucks to guarantee your shit smells wonderful by using products called Déjà Poo, Party Pooper and Trap-A-Crap. Who shits in public restrooms? (Unfortunately I worked in a bookstore for eleven years and the answer is everyone on earth but me.)
Brian has provided me with hours of free therapy and I’m grateful. Who needs the expense of going to Vegas or paying a shrink by the hour when you can watch Brian Christopher lose his money?