You Gotta Bet, For Your Right, To PAAARRR-TAAAYYYY

Before we left for CasinoPalooza 3, I went online to check out the websites of the casinos we planned to frequent. You don't want to miss out on any promotions. We went to 7 different casinos, with at least $5 free play at each. Plus, Hick and Genius got extra free play because December is their birthday month.

One of the promotions was a Private Party. Once you played the slots and earned at least 20 points, you could take your player's card to the promotions center and have it loaded with $20 of free play. PLUS you could get a wristband that allowed entrance to the Private Party, which involved free food and drinks. It was plainly on the High Winds website, and also advertised on posters in their vestibule. I had copied the offer word for word from their website to an index card. I did this for the promotions from each casino, and gave a set of index cards to my sister the ex-mayor's wife after we got back in our separate cars after lunch at Lee's Chicken on the way down there.

Still...Sis questioned the Private Party.

"I don't get this. Why is there a Private Party? Do we get to go? What's going on at the Private Party? Free food and drinks? What's that? Is it a meal? What kind of drinks? Soda? A bar? It's from 7:00 to 9:00. We're usually at another casino by then. How many are allowed in? What if they run out of food and drinks? It says to get a wristband at 6:00? Then what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. That's what their promotions page said. I don't know any more than that. Maybe you don't want to go. I don't care. But it's $20 of free play, and you're probably going to gamble enough anyway to get to 20 points. For all I know, they're serving free soda and a bowl of popcorn. You guys decide. I'm just letting you know the promotions."

Of course Genius was interested. "If that Private Party has free drinks, that will be well worth it! I think we should go."

Sis was skeptical, but we all went. We arrived around 5:45, and by 6:05, Sis, Ex-Mayor, Genius, and Friend had their wristbands. I got mine about five minutes later, because I was playing a machine that I knew an annoying guy wanted, and I didn't want to give in to him. I'm like that sometimes.

There's my bracelet, next to the Garmin-brand fitbit thingy Genius gave me for Christmas. These Party wristbands were snapped on like a hospital ID bracelet, with a plastic clasp thingy. Hick did not have a bracelet, so Sis interrogated him and sent him to the promotions desk to get one. Hick was under the impression that he was missing out on $20 free play (which he WAS), and had no clue about the Private Party.

The promotions lady scanned Hick's player's card, and asked if he wanted a bracelet. "SURE! If it's FREE!" So he got one, still not knowing what it was good for. A lady next to him, when asked, said, "OH! I get a BRACELET?" Yeah. Not everybody there was a former valedictorian like Val, Genius, and The Pony.

Speaking of The Pony, he did not have a bracelet. Newly-awoken Hick, after a symposium by Sis, started in on The Pony. "What do you mean you haven't got 20 points in play yet? I've seen you playing! I don't care if your card wasn't working! Give it to me! I'll play it for you. Give it to YOUR MOM! She plays higher than I do. What are you going to do when we go in there to eat, sit out here by yourself and starve?" Let the record show that we had not eaten since breakfast at 9:30 a.m.

Of course The Pony took offense, and meandered off by himself, and Hick sent me as a search party of one, to corral him and break him so he could attend the soiree with us. The Pony did it on his own terms, and got his party bracelet.

High Winds is not a large casino. It was not overly busy, this being a Thursday night. When 7:00 (PARTY TIME) rolled around, we didn't know where to go. Genius had scoped out the situation, though. Upon arrival, he'd asked where it would be held, what would be served, and how much was allowed. The lady told him it was cheese and crackers and those roll-up things (PINWHEELS) and pasta salad and whatever drinks you wanted, including liquor. "So get one and get back in line!" Her advice. Not his.

Anyhoo...we saw Genius and Friend at the head of the line. It was a back room full of round tables, 8 chairs to a table, and long tables up front loaded with food, and a long table at the back with a bartender. The food looked appetizing. A vegetable platter with carrots/broccoli/cauliflower, giant bowls of spinach dip, two kinds of round crackers, cubes of yellow/white/pepperjack cheeses, cubes of ham, bowls of colored pasta salad with broccoli and ham chunks, pinwheels of ham/cheese/tomato/lettuce/mayo, and some sliced sub sandwiches.

It should come as no surprise to you that Genius selected our table, the one directly in front of the open bar. As he said later, "I didn't want us up there by all the traffic of the food line." I could kick myself for not getting a picture of everybody's plate. It was an afterthought that I got the aftermath.

That's my Diet Coke cup, after it got watered down while waiting on my table of alcoholics. Genius was having whisky/Cokes, as he called them. I think Friend had the same. Sis had two bottles of beer, as did Ex-Mayor. Hick had one bottle of beer (seeing as how he was our driver, and I didn't know how long we were staying). That's Hick in the background.

The only complaint I have is that the bartender lady would only pour me that little cup of Diet Coke. Sure, I could go back as often as I wanted. But you'd think she could have given me a whole can of Diet Coke. It's not like I was asking for a fifth of vodka.

You could go through the food line as often as you wanted. We were all fat and sassy after that free Private Party. Except maybe Sis, who was only sassy. She didn't eat anything but 8 crackers and a handful of giant olives she took off the bar while the lady was turned around getting her bottle of beer. She said she didn't really want what they had to offer. Oh, well. More for me!

We were allowed free run of that room until 9:00. Around 7:45 we went out to the casino floor to gamble some more. Genius and Friend made numerous trips back inside for drinks. Genius had been lucky with his gambling, coming out $40 ahead. As he said,

"I hope they know they just paid me $40 to drink all I can in two hours!"

Val Is the $12.99 Daughter

When we last convened, Val was having a heyday at Downstream Casino in Oklahoma. Finding pennies all willy-nilly, and hearing her two special songs on the radio while traveling, songs that she associates with her dear, departed mother.

Thursday night was our last night at Downstream. We would all be going our separate ways on Friday morning, The Pony back to college at OU, Genius to his new apartment in Kansas City to get on with his real life, and start work at Garmin on January 8th. My sister the ex-mayor's wife, and the ex-mayor himself, back home to not see us again until next Christmas, even though we live about 10 miles apart. And me back to my Backroads homestead, to while away my hours and days and weeks and years with fully-retired Hick.

The Pony conked out early Thursday night. Said he was going to bed at 10:30, to rest up for his drive the next day, but mainly to save himself from losing any money. Genius and Friend spent a little time high-drinking, low-betting. Then they went back to their room. Hick never tells me when he's leaving, but rather texts me from the room that he's back, and going to sleep. Sis and the ex-mayor stopped by periodically, to visit me at my favorite Buffalo Gold game that I FINALLY got a chance on. The story of the usurpers is coming soon.

On their last pass by, on the way back to their room around 1:00 a.m., Sis told me that the cash-out machines weren't working. "None of them! I have two tickets I'll have to cash in tomorrow. I went to the cashier, but there's a line about 25 deep, and I'm not waiting tonight."

Huh. That revelation was rain on my parade. I had a couple of big tickets to cash in. I figured that by the time I was ready to leave, the line would have shortened. So I played on. When my butt got too tired to sit and lose money any more, I headed for the cashier. Of course it was in the complete opposite corner of the casino from where I was playing. This isn't some rinky-dink operation. It's about 3 or 4 times the size of the casino that Hick and I frequently frequent back home.

First I went to the nearby cash-out machine I'd been using, and indeed saw a message that it was not giving out cash. It's not that I doubted my sister's word, but why walk all the way across the casino if you don't have to? Then I began my trek to the cashier. A casino doesn't have orderly rows and wide main hallways like my teaching career provided me. There are several games here, a round kiosk there, some back-to-back arrangements at a diagonal, gaming tables roped off, a circular bar...all set up seemingly cattywompus to each other, though I'm sure the people who run that casino paid a pretty price to a consultant about traffic flow.

It was kind of like a corn maze. You can't really see what's around the next corner. You CAN see the big letters on the outside wall that say CASHIER. So I was weaving to and fro, having not traveled this direction yet on this trip, mainly having gone around the perimeter and cut in a couple times looking for that Wonder 4 Tower.

I was moseying along by the circular bar on my left, carving out a circuitous path up front, when a cheer arose from a gaming table over to my right. I don't even know what they were playing, but they were all standing up. I turned my head to glance over then, and SAW IT!

Is this too good to be true, or WHAT? Val found a ladybug slot!!! I was dying to sit down and play it, but I had no cash. And I wasn't putting a more-than-$100-ticket in there. I couldn't even get a picture, because OF ALL THE TIMES, EVER, IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD...a technician materialized out of nowhere to work on the slot that was two machines to the left of the one I wanted to photograph.

I went on to the cashier. I pocketed (pursed, actually) my big bills, and had three twenties to play on. I wanted to put one of them into the ladybug slot. How could I NOT? The technician was gone, so I took a picture before I did anything else. It's on whatever the previous player left it at. There's no guarantee that it would have been on that column of ladybugs that caught my eye. Ladybugs. That remind me of my mom, and her drop-ceiling full of them in her family room.

It was a ladybug slot, all right. I took a close-up to prove it happened.

I put in my player's card and my $20. Seeing that it was a 40-line game, I decided to play all lines at one credit per line. That's 40 cents a spin. With $20 in, I figured I had 50 spins. Whatever (if any) money was left after that would be what I won. Of course I hit the wrong button first, and made a spin wagering ONE CENT! That's not really Val's style. So I made 49 more spins at 40 cents a spin. I hit a couple of little wins. Nothing big. After my 50th spin, there was $12.99 credit left in the machine. A lesser woman, with no self control, and a crushing gambling addiction...might have played that down to nothing.

That's not Val.

I cashed it out. Saved the ticket for the next day. I didn't feel like weaving my way through machines to the cashier again. (I'm pretty sure my PAINT skills with a spray can to remove the bar code from this photo will unequivocally assure you that I am NOT Banksy.) This ticket gave me VALidation (see what I did there) that the power of the ladybug was with me on this trip. And that I've received a promotion from Five-Dollar Daughterdom. Thank goodness my little overeager one-cent bet faux pas kept me from being a Thirteen Dollar Daughter!

Funny thing. The next morning, after breakfast and goodbyes to the boys, Hick and I walked into the casino by the Buffalo Gold machines. I told him how I had to go to the cashier in the opposite corner last night, because all the cash-out machines were not working. And that I was headed over there now to cash out my $12.99 ticket.

"Yes they were! The one I went to worked. Look. This one over here. It's working now, too." It was only one row over from the Buffalo Gold machine.

I could have cashed out there last night. And never made my winding trip past the ladybug slot machine.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Are Signs, Bringing Val Comfort in This Family Time

Genius and Friend were the first to arrive at the CasinoPalooza 3 hotel. They had their own room, courtesy of Genius's free night offer from when we stayed there in May. My sister the ex-mayor's wife, and her driver, the ex-mayor, were second. Then The Pony and I parked in the guest lot, where Hick picked us up with our luggage, and headed for valet parking. Genius was texting to see where we were, then said, "Oh, I see you pulling up now. Never mind." He had a good view from his 9th floor room. He was trying to find out if he had time to get a drink and roam around, but we only wanted to put our bags away and get going.

It didn't take us long to hit the road to other casinos. It's about a 20-minute drive to the first one. Sis and the ex-mayor took their own car, and we piled The Pony and Genius and Friend into A-Cad. Yeah. The Pony got the short end of that stick, and had to ride on the third seat. Not that there's anything wrong with that. He's young and spry.

We were about halfway to our first casino, following Sis and Ex-Mayor's white SUV, when it came on the radio: "Holes in the Floor of Heaven," by Steve Wariner. The song The Pony and I associate with my mom. "Pony! Hear it? It's our song!" He did. It was a nice surprise, all of our family there together on a trip, and hearing this song.

Later than night, at 12:12 a.m. (according to the time stamp on the picture), I was alone, gambling back at Downstream, where we were staying, when I decided to get a soda at their grill. Downstream doesn't have free soda stations, though Genius says they'll give you one free at the bar if you ask for it. Anyhoo...there I was, in line to get a soda, when I saw it on the floor:

A PENNY! I don't know anything about the time of 12:12, but maybe that penny had been laying there since 11:11 waiting for me. I was itching to pick it up before somebody else got it, but I wasn't about to bend over and put my head by that gal's butt. Val is no weirdo!

Thankfully, those people got their order pretty quick, and I could get a closeup and snag my rightful 2016 penny. I was really feeling connected. A special song, AND a penny! Forget that I was losing, this gave me a warm feeling.

The next night (or technically, the same night, since this one was found after midnight), we were again back at Downstream. Genius and Friend were hitting the bar (with outrageous prices this time, them not liking the special of a Fireball shot for $2) and wandering around, low-betting. I couldn't get on my Buffalo Gold machine because some really obnoxious people were monopolizing all four seats. More on them another day, perhaps.

I'd been looking for a Wonder 4 Tower slot machine, but hadn't seen any on this trip except at Indigo Sky. We left there before I got my fill of play on it. Friend and Genius found me sitting at a Buffalo Grand machine. I don't really like them. The seat is built in, and it vibrates when you hit enough buffalo. This one never gives me any wins, but it's better than no buffalo. Anyhoo...Friend said he'd found a Wonder 4 Tower up front. I cashed out immediately, and said I was going to get a soda, then go look for it.

No penny this night at the soda counter. I got my beverage (free refills all night, too) and went in search of the Wonder 4 Tower. I couldn't find it. I checked all the landmarks they'd pointed out, but still no Tower. Kind of in a huff, I slogged back to the area of the grill, where Genius and Friend were playing a giant money wheel machine. My knees were on their last legs at the end of this day, and I was disgruntled over the wild Tower chase. Friend apologized and said he'd take me there.

That was really nice of him, but it meant more walking. I said I might just play that Buffalo Grand again, but IT WAS TAKEN, along with the one beside it. So I went with Friend up front for the Tower. When we got there, all the seats were taken! TAKEN! So I had to walk back to my Buffalo Grand, in hopes of it being open. AND IT WAS. But that's not the best part.

Right there on the control panel was a PENNY! Left just for ME! I put down my soda and got out my camera.

A shiny 2015. Doesn't bother me a bit that it was face down. Though in retrospect, maybe it was bad luck to pick up a face-down penny. NO! NEVER! Every penny is a good penny for Val, in her quest to become a Future Pennyillionaire.

Anyhoo...there's more to Val's madness, so random that it deserves its own post tomorrow. For now, let's move along to the ride home.

We weren't very far out of Joplin when Genius called. Being a new grown-up, he'd been checking his American Family insurance app, which said that he owed on his car insurance. Which he does NOT, because we pay it for 6 months at a time, and it's good until March, when he will take over. Anyhoo...there must have been a snafu on the way the statement reads, because he just got himself linked to our multi-car discount when he got his renter's insurance. He doesn't owe anything now, but we will in February for a couple of different cars. Hick talked Genius down from the ledge, telling him to call the gal at our insurance office and have her explain it. That satisfied him.

While I was talking to Genius on the phone, another of my special songs came on the radio: "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye," by Patty Loveless.

Yes. Val had an excellent adventure on CasinoPalooza 3. It's not all about the money, you know.
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These were pennies #76 and 77 for my Future Pennyillionaire fortune.
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An Ex-Mayor's Wife and a Niece Walk Into a Piano Bar

On the way to CasinoPalooza 3, we stopped for lunch in Genius's College Town. Genius wasn't with us, him and Friend driving separately, having left a bit later. They would be going to Kansas City after leaving CasinoPalooza 3. The Pony also had his own car, since he would be returning to Norman, Oklahoma, at the conclusion of CasinoPalooza 3. I was riding with him. So we had four cars taking seven people on this trip. It's kind of hard to coordinate lunch with such a convoy.

My sister the ex-mayor's wife likes to dine at Lee's Chicken. We don't have one around here. She had the chicken strips with cooked apples and something else. I had the Oven Roasted two-piece meal with cooked apples and SLAW. The Pony had chicken strips with wedge fries and macaroni and cheese. I didn't see what Hick or the ex-mayor had, because they were sitting farther away from me. One thing's for certain. We all had a biscuit. But the highlight of lunch was Sis's story.

"Niecy and I were in St. Louis shopping. She told me we should go to this piano bar that she'd been to before. 'It's really nice, Mom. I think you'll like it.' So we went, and she was right. It was REALLY nice!

Along one wall, they had a little buffet with chicken wings and other hot stuff and finger foods. We didn't have any, but I was really impressed. Everybody seemed to be having a great time. The music was good. Then a lady got up and took the microphone.

She gave a little speech about what a nice place this was. And then she said she wanted to congratulate John Smith on being the year's top seller! Niecy and I looked at each other. The room burst into applause, so we did, too. 'Yay! Good job, John Smith! Way to go!'

We noticed then that other people were wearing ID badges. We had walked into an awards ceremony for some company. It started with a 'V' but I don't remember the name. We were SO embarrassed. We just sat there and pretended to be part of the group. We clapped when they clapped. Thank goodness we hadn't eaten the food! As soon as there was an opportunity, we got up and left. I'm surprised they didn't throw us out."

Yeah. That's my sister.

And...We're Back

CasinoPalooza 3 was NOT a financial success! Let's put that out there right away. Don't want to violate the Truth in Blogging Law. That's not to say that Val had no wins whatsoever. She had a few big fat wins. But you know how that goes...you have to spend money to win money. She was already in the hole when the first biggie came in, and even though she stashed that away to bring home, the next day's results dug that hole a little deeper. Lucky for Val, she had some more late-night success. Her saving grace was Downstream, the casino where she had two free nights.

As with previous CasinoPaloozas, we check in around 3:00-4:00, then head out to make a loop of four other casinos. We return around 10:00-11:00, with some of us still in a gambling mood, and others in an imbibing mood, and one ready for a snooze. I hit a $494.80 bonus on Buffalo Gold around 11:30, salvaging my losses at the other assorted casinos that night.

As if that wasn't enough, I kept playing, and hit another bonus of $207.00 around 1:00 a.m. Of course I kept playing. This was the only game giving me anything back. It's not that I wasn't happy with those winnings. Thing is, we go to Oklahoma on the CasinoPaloozas so we can play the VGT games that have random red-screen bonuses. They were NOT paying this trip! I might as well have stayed home and gone to our regular casino, which has SIX Buffalo Gold slot machines.

Anyhoo...let the record show that ALL OF US (adults) came home losers this trip. Oh, I still had half the money I took to gamble with. But I was not ahead. Nor was Hick. Nor my sister the ex-mayor's wife. Nor the ex-mayor himself. The only winners were Genius, who was $60 ahead the last time I talked to him, although he said he might go high-rollin' with that $60...and The Pony, who, while not actually in the black, was only down about $25 for the three days. Genius's Friend was somewhere in between, I think, because while he bemoaned his losses, next thing you knew, he was waving a ticket worth $60 or $80.

So...with the attitude of we may lose, and we may win, but we will never be here again...we all took it easy, and had a blast. More stories to come in the next few days.

And now, here's a tale that brought a smile to my face.

On the very last day, after a tearful goodbye to The Pony, and another tearful goodbye to Genius, Hick said we could play for an hour before we checked out. I was back at my favorite (and only) paying machine. Hick went roaming, and said he'd meet me back there at 11:30. Sis and the ex-mayor were also having a last hurrah before they checked out and departed.

I hit another bonus about 10 minutes before time to leave. I was watching it count up when I was distracted by Hick. So no picture of this one. I was sitting at a kiosk of Buffalo Gold slot machines. I guess you can call it a kiosk. There were 4, arranged in a square circle, if you know what I mean. Hick approached from my left. I was proudly planning to show him my accumulating bonus, while at the same time a little ticked off that he chose RIGHT THEN to show up, and ruin my enjoyment of my bonus. Imagine my surprise when Hick walked up to the lady at the machine on my left.

"Four hundred and eleven dollars! That's a good one!"

The lady looked at him with fear in her eyes. Welcome to MY world, lady! And I don't mean just because he's Hick. I mean welcome to the world where weirdos pop up when you least expect it, and insert themselves into your business with no warning for no reason.

"Uhhh...huhh..." she murmured. While grasping her purse and cashing out her ticket.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you were my sister-in-law. I didn't mean to be nosy. I just...thought you were her. I'm sorry."

I let Hick flounder for a moment. The lady caught my eye. I tried to reassure her, before she had a panic attack, or screamed for help, or swung her purse to smack Hick in the jewels. "Really. He thought you were my sister. We're here together."

The lady gathered her stuff and left. Too bad I didn't have time to switch to her machine. Hick came over to my side and acted like he hadn't just scared that lady into white hair overnight. I lectured him (you didn't think I'd let such a teaching opportunity go by without a lesson, did you) about how you can't just go up to people in a casino and comment on their winnings. Hick didn't see anything wrong with his actions. He decreed that it was that lady's fault, for looking like Sis from the back.

He never met a stranger, our Hick. And has never been locked up. Yet.

Weirdos and Walmart Checkers Conspire to Make Our Val Bummed

So...last Sunday, after I was done bashing the heavily-sighing, "gotta dig for it" postal clerk at the dead-mouse-smelling post office for giving attitude when I dared to take my orange postcard to pick up a package...I alluded to having a problem at Walmart the same day.

Oh. I had problems all right.

I wanted to get something Christmasy and colorful for dessert after Christmas dinner. Something I didn't have to make. Something I only had to put in my cart and pay for. Easy peasy. I chose some mini cupcakes with festive red and green frosting. Not only did I choose those festive mini cupcakes...I spent about five minutes picking up packages and turning them around and making sure I got the very best festive cupcakes available. The ones with unskewed icing. Pleasing to the eye. Pretty AND tasty.

You know how it goes at Walmart. The checker scans your stuff and puts it in bags on that turntable lazy Susan bag holder thingy. And you take the bags off the hooks as she spins it around, and place them in your cart. The checker handed me the rolls as she bagged them. So I could put them in the child-seat part of the cart and not smash them. Sometimes they hand you that fragile stuff, sometimes they set it up on top of that turntable lazy Susan bag holder thingy so you notice it and take care of it.

Checker announced my total. As I was wrestling with that dang chip-reader that flops down when you touch it, Checker took my last bag, the one containing my festive mini cupcakes, and walked around the turntable lazy Susan bag holder thingy to put them in my cart. Which she did by slinging the bag in sideways like it held clothing or towels.

SHE RUINED MY FESTIVE MINI CUPCAKES!

Okay. So she really only ruined four of them. Smashed a red and a green, messing up the frosting, and turning over two greens so that their frosting became skewed. I was in no mood to call her out, because I was IN A MOOD! A mood that started when I had to wait in line for quite a while, with a weirdo behind me.

This weirdo didn't know me. I didn't know him. He became overly familiar by walking past my cart (tight squeeze) to get to the man ahead of me, who must have worked with him once upon a time. After they exchanged pleasantries, Weirdo got back in line behind me, leaving the worker guy to pay for his stuff. I was putting things out of the lower section of my cart. Putting the cold things together, saving the fragile things for last. Here's where Weirdo gets weirder.

"Want me to put something out for you?"

"No."

"You're good?"

"Yes."

I find his over-familiarity a bit off-putting. If not downright creepy. Who does that? Offers to take things out of a stranger's cart? I didn't want him touching my goodies!

As always, I tried not to engage. You can't show kindness to a weirdo, or you're stuck with him. This was a bald Uncle-Fester-looking guy. He kept trying to make small talk, which I ignored. I'd acknowledged him. Now it was time for him to shut the eff up. I had the things out of the bottom, and got back behind my cart to push it forward, putting the fragile things (like my festive mini cupcakes) on the conveyor. I had put the divider out as soon as all my stuff was on.

Uncle Weirdo Fester kept crowding closer. You know how it is. You can hardly reach back to the chip-reader floppy thing to pay, because a weirdo is all up in your space. I almost threw an elbow to back him off, but at the last minute he took a step back, and made an obvious show of looking anywhere but the floppy keypad where I was typing in my PIN. I got my receipt and took off.

When I got home and unpacked my bags, I found an item I didn't buy. Oh, I PAID for it, all right. But I didn't buy it.

WHO buys that? At Christmas? It costs $2.27 a roll, by cracky! I already had plenty of tape. It's even Scotch tape. But it comes in a three-pack and is more economical than ONE roll of Magic Tape in the hard dispenser. At first I thought, "Bonus! Free tape!" But then I looked at my receipt, and saw that I'd been charged for it.

The only consolation is thinking about Uncle Weirdo Fester getting home, ready to wrap his package (heh, heh, I said package), and not having any tape.

That inadvertent revenge only cost me $2.27. Plus tax.

Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday #91 "Tough Times at Poverty Line High"

Blog buddy Sioux is hosting Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday. I have 150 words to convince you to fake-buy my fake book. Sit back. Take a ride with me. You can pass the time by reading my latest fake book. A fake book about real budget cuts that are slashing the costs of providing free public school education to all. When you slow down in a school zone, or wait for a crosswalk monitor to put down her hand-held STOP sign after the children are safely across the road...reach down and dig around for some loose change. Use it to fake-buy Val's latest fake book! Don't get held back while all your blog buddies are falling for Val's promotion.

Tough Times at Poverty Line High

Budget cuts have hit Poverty Line High. Teachers held contests to find ways to save. Now paperless and bookless, students read and turn in assignments on their phones. EVERYBODY has a phone! No excuses there.

Tech school students have doubled up the districts buses to use half the fuel. Extra pay for stunt drivers is more than made up when doublebuses take shortcuts down embankments, flipping to have room for the next route's riders. The only modifications are seatbelts made by the FACS class, to hold students in the upper bus seats, and welding two buses together, done by tech school dudes who hang out at stock car tracks on the weekends.

Now parents are sticking their noses where they don't belong. Something about "safety concerns." Will students and staff be allowed to proceed? Or will the school board flip out a big red STOP sign? (146 words)

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Fake Reviews for Val’s Fake Book

Jeff Spicoli..."All I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and not to read a fake book by this fake writer.  I'd rather sit in Mr. Hand's class without snacks than do that!" 

The Wheels on the Bus..."We're going round and round on this one. The concept is solid, but we wheels only get half as much grease. On thing we're NOT going round and round on is the future of this fake author. She's wanting to take the route to success, but she's not making all the stops."

Otto, Bus Driver for Bart and Lisa Simpson..."Fifteen crashes and not a single fatality! Can these bus stunt drivers say the same? I think not! I know one person who can't. This fake author! Ninety fake books, and considerably more than one fatality. Don't fake-buy this fake book unless you are comfortable taking your life into your hands!"

Chang and Eng..."This might have been the perfect job for us--had we not been busy fathering 21 children between us. And we DO mean between us. This fake author should have no job at all. She's like a parasite that clings to you, one that you cannot rid yourself of."

Cosmo Kramer..."I gotta get me one of these buses! I could get TWICE as many people on her for my reality tour. I'll have to cut out the pizza bagel, and switch the bite-size Three Musketeer to a mini KitKat bar. They can break off a piece for their neighbor. One thing's for sure. I would never sell my experiences to this fake author for her autobiography! Nobody would ever believe that she knocked out Mickey Mantle at fantasy baseball camp. Just like they won't ever believe that she's a real author."

A Ticonderoga #2 Pencil..."I want my shade of yellow back! Not from the doublebus. That's cool. I want my shade of yellow back from Thevictorian. She's a sniveling coward who can't write, even fakely, and rips people off with her fake books worse than The Good Feet Store with their outrageously-priced shoe inserts."