Of Miles Rausch

When I turned 18 I had no clue what I was in for. I knew I would get addicted to something but had no clue it would be gambling. Actually, I wouldn’t say I’m completely addicted I just have to gamble all the time and if I don’t I kick
ducklings until I feel better. Not that I don’t like ducklings, but we all have to relieve stress somehow, right?

I am writing about gambling because lots and lots of college students are willing to sacrifice their $3 tip from delivering a Papa John’s pizza in a blizzard to drunk
college kids on a single hand of black jack at the $3 minimum tables.

Easy come, easy go right?

Right!

I will be the voice for college students against their parents who say, “You have wasted away $20,000 this semester on Texas Hold ‘Em, but we’re still proud.” Well,at least you didn’t buy crack or a wife with that 20 grand, right?

As the Fresh Prince said, “parent’s just don’t understand.” Sing it, Willie.

When we’re standing behind a stack of chips taller than the stack of our unfinished homework we really have no choice but to double down or at least split them aces.

College students live in a place with few things to do besides go to the bar and earn a degree, so unless we want to do our homework or get destroyed we have no other option but to leave town and go to a place where we can help earn our tuition money a thousand times faster than a job. So thank you casinos of our area for so warmly welcoming us to your establishments. Thank you for taking my money so graciously. At least your pop is free.