Gamblin' Gal...KAREN

[Keystone]

Wow this has to be near the most pathetic string of posts ever on VCT. I always ignored it but then I see Tasha asking to stop.. lol. So I had to go look and here we are.

wow Mister V. You really are a loser amongst losers. This isn't woke anything. You're just a loser.

STFU...go attempt to bully KJ around some more you no humored cunt

[accountinquestion]

Wow this has to be near the most pathetic string of posts ever on VCT. I always ignored it but then I see Tasha asking to stop.. lol. So I had to go look and here we are.

wow Mister V. You really are a loser amongst losers. This isn't woke anything. You're just a loser.

STFU...go attempt to bully KJ around some more you no humored cunt

Keystone the funny guy with the astute observations.

[accountinquestion]

You're an embarrassment to those who even considered law school.

*yawn*

Yet you still replied ..

[MisterV]

"Mammie, go gets me 'dat copy o' "Sport Ill-strated," I and I jus' found at de bus stop. I and I needs to figure out hows to bet all de upcoming games."

Her long suffering mother stopped scrubbing the linoleum, took off her rubber gloves, swallowed a big belt of fortified wine and handed Karen the magazine.

"Now 'dat I and I is a sports gamblin' expert I and I is gonna win big."

Mammie let fly a stealthy toot of uncertainly bordering on disagreement.

"Chile, why is you all a sudden sayin' you knows jack shit 'bout sports? You is no athlete and has never watched sports on TV: fo' you it all be about scamming fools online, eatin' chicken and shittin' de flo'. "

"Shut yo' mouf, mammie...you knows I and I has a condition 'dat causes me to shit de flo."

Once again mammie regretted having shared the advice with Karen which the Magic Eight Ball presented when asked long ago why she shit de flo,' but that was urine under the bridge.

"Where is you gwine get de money to makes dese sport bets? You be broke as a joke."

"I and I reached out to my casino friends for money, dey always comes thru, jus' you wait and see."

Mammie took another deep pull from the bottle and got back to scrubbing, knowing in her heart that like always, her daughter's latest endeavor would once again blow up in her face.

[pinchingyourballs]

Miguelito squinted in the sunlight to read the latest VCT Mammie post on his 5 year old iPhone. Then he laughed in Spanish, "Ja ja ja, ja ja ja!" Miguelito was, like more than 70% of Miami, hispanic. And he was, like the majority of gamblers, a he. His wife Chalupa was waiting in the car waiting for him to finish reading. After having discovered that her husband was addicted to posting on various gambling forums as an autistic, asexual 40 year old virginal black woman, she gave Miguelito an ultimatum: no VCT posting or reading inside their apartment or in the car. Chalupa had been driving them up the coast for a romantic day at the beach when Miguelito's craving had overcome him.

"Pull over babe, I gotta check VCT. Mr. V probably wrote something about me and my Mammie."

"You mean about fictional Tasha and her fictional Mammie. Remember what the therapist told you. You have to stop referring to Tasha as a real person!" Chalupa said in exasperation. She really should have dumped Miguelito a long time ago, but his job as a Walgreens manager came with great benefits. Chalupa's own mami had told her to look on the bright side, at least it wasn't porn addiction. But Chalupa had only confided some of her marital troubles to her mami.

A new problem was brewing. Miguelito had started carrying around a hideous handbag he found a the dollar store. "Look babe! It's hideous like Tasha's bag!"
Chalupa had gently reminded him that fictional Tasha never claimed to have a hideous handbag, that detail was added by the VCT trolls who were equally addicted to ragging and dragging the fictional Tasha. But Miguelito couldn't make the distinction and he began taking it everywhere, even the casino. Chalupa's and Miguelito's sex life had fallen off a cliff. More recently she had espied him doing something very disturbing. When he thought he wasn't being observed, Miguelito doodled in a notebook, writing the name "Karen Nathan" in flowery school girl cursive, as if he were an infatuated 8th grade girl.

[MisterV]

Akwana put down his digging stick and smiled at the large, tasty grub he'd pried loose from under a rotting log in the African jungle.

"Oh boy" he thought: actually he thought in a different language, but let's use English.

He quickly ate the tasty grub then pulled out the modern phone he'd "liberated" from the last Christian missionary who had tried to proselytize him.

Akwana was rather sharp for an orphaned uneducated 18 year old Zulu and had learned much about America from watching the movie "Casino" over and over, committing it to memory: how that Joe Pesci rocked!

He scanned and then pondered the latest posts at his go to site, VCT, and chuckled; "That Tasha, she's at it again, now she's a sports bettor. Time to play with the mouthy harridan."

He keyed "Mammie, go gets me 'dat copy o' "Sport Ill-strated," I and I jus' found at de bus stop. I and I needs to figure out hows to bet all de upcoming games" but then paused to reflect on how long it had been and upon how much joy he'd received by inventing his MisterV sock puppet and masterfully weaving his controversial narratives.

He reveled in the feeling of power he felt simply by fooling all of the so-called Gambling Sharpies at VCT, DT, WoV and elsewhere.

Akwana completed his post and then urinated on a lurking black mamba: "What have I to worry about from a snake? With my powers of advanced internet forum sock puppetry I've nothing to fear."

With that he went back to digging for tasty grubs, ignoring the serpent.

[pinchingyourballs]

As Mary-Helen tucked in her grandchildren for the night, she smiled in anticipation of logging on to VCT and interacting with her imaginary internet friends and enemies. After a long day of babysitting, she needed the outlet. Would anyone on VCT guess that she was a 76-year-old devout Mormon, mother of 6 and grandmother of 23? No, how could they. Her VCT forum persona was carefully crafted to be statistically average and unremarkable in all aspects. The mundane account of her life and gambling activities could not be questioned.

Mary-Helen had recently started a feud with some "Mister V" character, whom she assumed to be a retired lawyer in Oregon but was actually a Zulu orphan boy with a phone. She pretended to be offended on behalf of another character, "Tasha" whom she assumed to be a single ghetto black woman but was actually a Hispanic man with a good job and a loving wife. As Mary-Helen interacted with all these characters in her usual boring way, a niggling thought in the back of her mind took hold.

What if I am not the only one pretending to be something other than what I am? What if "Boz" is actually Francine from across the street? What if "dgenben" is Jennifer Aniston? More such fanciful hypotheticals danced in her head like sugarplum faeries as Winken, Blinken, and Nod whisked her off to dreamland.

[MisterV]

Donald Trump took a big chomp out of his Big Mac, slurped his Coke and continued to create a new post for VCT: under a pseudonym, of course.

"Hey Elon, come look what I'm sending to that effete corps of intellectual snobs at VCT."

"No, Donald, no more! I've been trying to get you to stop posting as this MDawg character but you're relentless. Let it go, Donald, you've become obsessed."

Donald realized something, then vocalized the brain fart: "Look Elon, I need this shit more than I need pussy. It's a fucking tonic, it keeps me going."

"Yes, but you're losing focus, the MAGA faithful are wondering if you've still got IT."

"Elon, the only reason I'm standing here today is because I get aroused whenever I pour myself into my MDawg character; my posts about absolute superiority in all I do help me survive being surrounded by boot licking yes men. But know one thing: MDawg is me, Elon, and he is both the brain child and poster child of and for MAGA."

"Donald, you must stop."

Elon left the room and grinning maniacally he surreptitiously posted once again on VCT under his pseudonym.

"Hey MDawg: Wise up, chump" he posted: "Unless you pack nine and a half inches you ain't got shit."

[MisterV]

"Mammie, I and I has gotten de best idea ever for fraudin' dem white devils."

Her words fell on deaf, I mean drunken ears: her step mom was "well into her cups" and daydreaming about finally reaching "Dem Pearly Gates."

"Check 'dis out. I and I found 'dis pitcher of a house afire and now I and I says it is my house and 'dat I and I needs money fo' a new one."

Karen smiled and patted herself on the back, following it with a smiling "Atta girl."

Mammie arose from her drunken stupor and commented "You lives here in Miami, not Cal fornia. Dey all knows dat too. How's you gonna frauds dem if'n dey be on to you?"

Karen thought for a moment, then said "Easy; I and i tells dem we moved las' week."

With that the fraudulent bingo maven constructed her plea, posted it on WoV and quickly received three requests for crotch shots.