"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself." - D.H. Lawrence
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For three years I've been bonus whoring and rakeback grinding. Putting in long, boring hours almost every single day. Sometimes I wondered why. There must be more interesting and satisfying ways to spend my time.
Once you get stuck in the Full Tilt Iron Man Challenge it's hard to leave. I got reeled in by this never-ending promotions machine. There's always more free money just around the corner. Just a few more hands to play, just a few more points needed to unlock the next cash prize...
Fuck this, I've lived at the bottom of the poker food chain for years. Just one tiny step above the fish who fund this volatile, flawed, bullshit poker economy.
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Full Tilt has been down for about twenty-four hours now. Somehow it doesn't feel all that bad. It's almost like I'm on an (expensive) holiday. No need to hurry through my days to get to grinding, no more Full Tilt Points to gain, no more Happy Hours or other exhaustive bonus schemes. No more playing poker above everything else for just some extra cash.
My money's gone. My rigid playing schedule' s gone. But, hey, I'm free!
There's only one thing left to do:
Turn up your speakers, play this clip and sing along one final time:
Say it loud and say it proud:
Fuck you, Mr. Lederer!
I'm out.