“you got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em. Know when to walk away, know when to run” -Kenny Rodgers.

When I worked at the rehab facility, I can recall numerous time that the clients would ask me what drug I was addicted to? I never really liked talking about my life, because it wasn’t about me. My job was to look after them and keep them safe and on the right path.

My last day there, I had a coming to Jesus with the clients during their lunch. I gave them the opportunity to ask question and get to know the guy behind the title. Well, the first question of course, what drugs or alcohol were you addicted to? I told them that addiction doesn’t always have to do with drugs or alcohol. There’s porn, gambling, video gaming addiction and so on.

I stood there in front of 64 men and women staring at like I was about to announce the winning lottery numbers. I said my addiction is gambling. A few laughed and said that wasn’t a real addiction. I explained to them that their needle or pipe was my slot machine. I explained that the ringing of the machine was a trigger and that my heart will begin to race kind of get the sweats.

They asked when it started and I told them it was right after high school. My grandmother asked me to take her to our local casino boat which I did. Lord, I wish I could have been busier that day. It was the lights and sounds of all the machines that hooked me in, along with actually winning.

Some still didn’t understand the relation of gambling to drug use. I asked them if they have ever stolen to get money for drugs? Yes they replied. I said well same here. I asked if they ever lied to their family and friends because of the drugs? Again, they replied yes. I said you know that feeling when you are coming off your high and trying to figure how you’ll get your next fix? Well, same here.

In 2005 my father called 1800 Bets Off on me and I had to go to the casinos in Iowa and Illinois and ban myself. I did a lifetime ban because honestly, I didn’t know if I could stop myself from going with just a year ban.

Around 2020, Illinois started to allow slot machines in gas stations, restaurants, bars, etc. The apartment complex that I had just moved into was across the street from a stand alone slot machine business. It didn’t bother me because being banned for 15 years already, I really didn’t think about it. One day, I went to the store to grab something and overhead a guy say he one $3000 or so and was excited because it was tax free. I said how the hell is it tax free? He stated that the slots are owned my the location owner and not by the state. The state taxes the business but not the winner.

Damn I wish I didn’t hear that. This is a major loophole when it comes to gambling. Yes, I’m banned from the casino that is state ran, but not from the slots that are business owned. I found a knew “drug” dealer, and it was accessible from morning to night.

“Know when to walk away, know when to run.” That’s the problem. Instead of walking away from the needle, i started to shoot up again. When I go into a gas station and hear the slot machines sounds, it truly is a trigger. My “just a little bit” turns into “what the fuck am I doing”? I wish I can say that I’m “sober” again, but I’d be lying. I’m fighting these demons and even with the thought of my daughter, the demons sometimes win.

I talked to the VA about counseling and they wanted to send me to rehab for gambling addicts. Guess where? Goddamn Las Vegas! That’s like having a drug addict get rehab in a trap house. I literally said out loud to the lady, “what the actual fuck?” Needless to say, I didn’t take the VA up on their offer.

I moved from Illinois to Iowa specially to get away from the slots. How freaking shitty is it that you have to move to a different state because you can’t control your urges? It’s embarrassing and sad really. I really want to get this fixed and get the help I need before I “OD”.

I wish I could say that I have all the answers on how to fight this. I mean if it was that easy, these rehab places wouldn’t be needed.

In closing, I’ll end this the way it started. Hello everyone, my name’s Robert, and I’m addicted to gambling.

Don’t you (Forget About Me)

One of the great songs of the 80s, this Simple Minds song has gone down as a classic. I absolutely love this, I mean honestly, how can you not like it? Little less than a year ago, this song took a new meaning for me.

At the place that i was working, there was a clerk (I’ll refer to her as C) who was so absolutely beautiful. I know it’s kind of cliché to say, but she was just as beautiful on the inside too. In my eyes, C was perfect. She would laugh at your stupid jokes, she would try her best to put a smile on your face. She was always there for our individuals. (I worked in a long term care home) She was honest in the sense that she didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear, she told you what you needed to hear.

As I said, she was perfect. Well, almost I should say. C was married. Now I’m not the kind of person who flirts or whatnot with married women. I’ve been married before and I know C’s husband wouldn’t like that. My supervisor (I’ll refer to as M) and the house manager at the time would tell me that C was not in a good marriage. M would tell me that C and I would be perfect together. Now M was also C’s supervisor, but they were more like mother and daughter. So when M said that C’s husband was a prick and not good for C, I believed her. Why not right?

I got to see first hand how C’s husband was and why C would sometimes have tears in her eyes when coming into work, or after getting off the phone with him. Again, as much as it sucked and as much as i wanted to comfort her, I knew that she was married. Well, one day C gave a hug to one of our individuals and I said something to the affect of, “oh we’re just passing out hugs now?” She laughed and gave me a hug. As we pulled away from the hug, our cheeks kind of touched and lord I wanted to kiss her so damn bad.

Mind you, C and I shared the same small office, so we started to talk more about personal stuff and kind of had a connection. But again kids, what’s the problem? Oh yes, she’s married. About a month or so the playful hugs became more than just playful. There were feelings behind them. And each time, there was almost a kiss that couldn’t happen.

Don’t you (Forget About Me) would play at least 10 times during our 8 hour shift and I would joke to C that she was Clair and I was Bender. One day, C tells me that she has a gift for me. She told me to close my eyes and put my hand out. C put one of her earrings in my hand and closed it. If you’ve seen The Breakfast Club, you know that that scene is kind of iconic. Well, here I am, getting an earring from “my Clair”.

While sitting in the office with C, C turns around and says “i love you”. I’m sitting there in my chair in awe that this beautiful person just told me she loves me. I remember I said “no you don’t” and she smiled and said “Robert I love you”. Now, before the little hearts started floating in the air around my head, let’s not forget one thing. Oh yes… she’s married. A few days later, I told M what happened and M said she knew C cared about me and could tell that I had feelings for C. All I could do was smile.

Some time later, I really can’t remember the time frame honestly, the flirting and hugs and sweet talk lead to something that scared the shit out of me. I was finishing talking to one of my individuals and ended up going back to my office. I believe C had been arguing with her husband on the phone and had hung up by the time i walked in. Out of nowhere, I asked her to stand up and kissed her. After, I remember the only thing I could say was “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I am so sorry, fuck!” She was in just as much shock as me. But then something weird happened, she grabbed me and kissed me.

A month or two went by and I started to think about 80/20. You look for that 20% you are missing in your marriage. So I asked her if i was just her 20% and she said no. Well kids, C started to treat me different about a week later. I asked her how things were with her and her husband. She said that things were better, and wouldn’t you know it, things got better around the same time she started treating me different. Yes, I was that 20%.

I felt hurt. I don’t open myself up to people, but to her I did. There was no more laughs, no more sitting in the office with me. I ended up putting in my resignation due to some other issues I had with M. My last day, I was upset, or sad actually because i was leaving my individuals and leaving C. C told me that its not like we can’t get coffee sometime. She said your new job is across town, not across the country. C gave me a hug, told me to take care, and went home. I kid you not, when she drove off, this song came on again. I looked at the little envelope that I kept her earring in and smiled. What’s the odds this song would play?

A week later I called C and asked if she wanted to get coffee she said it probably wasn’t a good idea, and that she probably shouldn’t talk to me anymore. I’m assuming it had to do with me filing a complaint against M. Remember, they were like mother and daughter.

C ended up blocking me on social media. I ended up deleting her number. Do I think about C? Yes, more than I should honestly. However, the feelings she or I had shouldn’t have came to fruition anyways.

I sent the earing back to her at the long term care facility. She was not happy about that, and understandable. She said I could have just thrown the earring away. Yes, I could have done that, and probably should have. But it was my way of letting go of something that really wasn’t there.

Don’t you (Forget About Me)

Johnny and Amber

Finally, after 6 long weeks, the trial is over. Johnny wins and Amber loses. If you watched the trial, you pretty much already knew Johnny had this in the bag.

Amber created this story and lied so many times under oath that its hard to keep count. What Amber did, besides make herself look like an idiot, was shit on actual domestic abuse survivors.

Women everyday are hurt physically and emotionally by their boyfriend, fiancé, husband. Some, don’t live to talk about it. For the others though, they are the true survivors. Not some B list actress who uses a bruise kit to get back at her husband.

Amber told Johnny “No one will believe you”. That may not be the case with Johnny, but for other males, that statement rings true. 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience severe physical violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime. (CDC, 2017) 61% of the men who call the ManKind Initiative helpline have never spoken to anyone before about the abuse they are suffering and 64% would not have called if the helpline was not anonymous. (

If you think about it, what do we tell young boys when they fall or get hurt? “You’re fine”, “That didn’t hurt”, “Stop your crying”, etc. From a young age, males are taught to be tough, to not tell or complain when they get hurt. So why men don’t admit being a victim of domestic violence? Well, its the stigma of showing weakness.

A global study out last year of more than 125,000 people from all socioeconomic backgrounds found children who witnessed domestic violence had the same risk and incidence of PTSD as soldiers returning from war. (USAToday,2019) Johnny grew up with domestic violence, and instead of it being a learned behavior, he wanted to break the cycle. He knew what Amber was capable of, because he saw it early in childhood. As we have heard during this trial, on numerous occasions he tried to separate himself from her presence.

Johnny is no angel as we have learned from this trial. However, his peers were smart enough to see through the lies that Amber told on the stand. They saw through the uneducated witnesses testimony on Ambers team.

After the verdict, Amber said “I’m even more disappointed with what this verdict means for other women. It is a setback.” Well, next time don’t try to ruin your ex-husband and just go live your life. Amber created this mess and will more than likely be a castaway in Hollywood. Her words can no longer be trusted.


While I was at my daughters school for her festivities, I looked along the row of chairs that they had the children sit in. I would say it was probably 20 to 25 kids all sitting there smiling laughing, doing what little kids do. I looked at my daughters mom and I said you know what, for perspective, that whole row of white chairs is gone. She knew exactly what I meant. Here are these children, growing up in a shitty world. Not knowing that just two hours earlier 18 little people like them, were murdered in cold blood.

I don’t cry over the news, I think it’s because I’ve been desensitized, but I will admit this one hit different. There is no reason why a person would wake up, drive to an elementary and start shooting. What is bothering me the most and making me sick to my stomach is the other day Sophia was getting upset because she couldn’t put her shoes on and she finally said help me daddy. Now think about the sounds that those children made and the screams of help for mommy and daddy that went unanswered.

These kids did not deserve this, their families did not deserve this, law-enforcement and medics that had to walk into that school and see those lifeless bodies did not deserve this.

When I looked on Twitter, the first post that I saw was not a “pray for the parents”, it was about gun control. How much of an ignorant insensitive fuck do you have to be to politicize the death of 18 children before their bodies are even off the floor? These children were three days away from being on their summer break, and now their families have to prepare a funeral.


I was just reading up on a story about Shemene Cato, 48, who brutally attacked her 9 year old daughter Shalom Guifarro and her 13-year-old sister for two hours before mortally injuring her daughter on Sunday. (Brooklyn mom ignored daughter’s pleas of ‘help me’ after fatal beating: prosecutors, New York Times)

As a parent, how the hell do you ignore cries of “help me” from your child? The 9 year old and her sister were being spanked/punished for a missing tablet. Shalom, ran to her room and hid under the bed. The piece of shit mom lifted the bed to find her and then dropped it, leading to it hitting Shalom in the head, causing internal bleeding.

I joke around about kids needing to get their ass whooped, and yes, some of them do. However, not to the point that the kid will be traumatized, injured, or killed. I know certain demographics discipline their children the way they were disciplined. Basically a learned behavior of discipline that is repeated with each generation.

I got whooped plenty of times and sometimes I learned from it, other times, it just made me scared of my dad. Was he like that because he was being mean, or because that what my grandpa did to him or his brothers/sisters? With my daughter, I have already said that I will not raise a hand to her. Will I yell? Yeah probably, but I will not spank her. I want her to understand the reason why she is in trouble, not to be scared of her father.

This mom was charged with 2nd degree murder. I understand she did not intentionally mean to injure her daughter to the extent of her dying, but when your child is screaming for help, get off your fucking ass and check on them.

Start of a new Chapter

When my daughter was born, I can remember telling her mom that the hardest part for me was going to be the day she started school. Having to entrust someone with my baby girl. Well, today was that day. Granted, it was only preschool, but the thought of her being out of me and her moms sight, was nerve racking.

As we walked towards the front of the school, I could see on her face that she was a little unsure what was going on. I couldn’t tell if i was holding her hand, or if she was holding mine for comfort. As we walked through the doors numerous kids were scattering around like cockroaches with the light on. She looked up at me as to say “you see this shit?”.

We made our way to her classroom and the teacher welcomed her with open arms. The paraeducator was someone i went to college with, so that was a relief. It’s a bilingual class which i like because she’ll be able to speak spanish unlike me. As her teacher was talking to her in spanish, I just stood there like a deer in headlights.

I walked with my daughter over to the table with little chairs, pulled the chair out for her, and she had a seat. I looked at her as a little boy handed her some of the building blocks. Emotions ran through me. On one hand, here is my little girl, taking a small step forward. On the other hand, I will throat punch one of these little brats if they make my baby cry. Ok, maybe I wont take it that far lol.

I did feel a little better when the teacher texted me a video of Cheech having a snack and smiling. I know that the separation anxiety is going to stick with me until the day I die, I just have to make sure she doesn’t end up paying for it.

Eat a bowl of dicks 2022 Episode 1

My “Eat a bowl of dicks” award goes out to Alexis Avila from New Mexico.

What did Ms. Avila do to deserve such a pristine award you ask? This ignorant bitch put her newborn in a bag and tossed…TOSSED…it into a garbage can outside. Oh, and let me state that the newborn was alive. She literally grabbed the bag out of the car and chucked it into the garbage, got back in and drove off as if it was just last nights dinner being thrown out.

So this twat waffle had a baby, then tossed it into a trash can because she didn’t know how to use protection or swallow. 6 hours later three people were dumpster diving and heard the baby crying and damn near shit themselves when they opened up that bag. Can you imagine how much of a brain fuck that has to be? Your looking for something of value to dig out of the trash and find a goddamn baby. Can’t get much more valuable than that.

The news keeps saying teen mom. Why? This bitch is 18 years old!! A teen mom to me is 13-17. 18 your an adult. Hell, at 17 you can join the military.

This twat told investigators that she didn’t know she was pregnant and the father was a juvenile. She stated that she panicked when she gave birth. Did you panic when YOU THREW YOUR NEWBORN SON IN THE TRASH???

So, one would think, no bond for this twat. Wrong! “At the time the warrant was signed by the judge and the judge signed a $10,000 unsecured bond appearance bond and at that point she was released about an hour later,” Per kfoxtv.

” In 2006 New Mexico legislature passed a law that gives judges the authority to decide if you are a danger to the community or a high-risk defendant. If the judge decides you are a risk for the community, then they can refuse to allow you to be released on bail and will hold you until your trial. It doesn’t matter if you can pay the bail amount in the statute, the judge will use their discretion to detain you without bond.” So yeah, that judge can eat a bowl of dicks too.

Street justice needs to happen.