steven.vu

Scamming No Limit Texas Holdem | Grosvenor Casino

I’ve been to quite a few Casino resorts; Macau and Mocbai. Between them i’ve visited half a dozen casinos.

Yesterday I actually played in one. Chris Leslie Evernden aka “Concept” the rapper, had a clever little scheme that was sure to make money. Off we went; Rachel, Chris, Graham and I in his mini. We put some gangsta rap on and went posing down to Edgeware Road.

The scam was this; 4 people play on the same table. We all play like tight assholes, only playing pairs and premium hands. It’s not really a scam – just tedious. It’s all legit, but the fact that you can make money is dubious to say the least.

We went to the Grosvenor Casino on Edgeware Rd. It’s one of the safest places to stay if an all out terrorist attack happened to hit London. Registering was easy enough and off we went.

Each of us converted £25 into chips and sat down at the table. We got down to business.

In three hours of play, we played a dozen hands. Fucking boring.

I hit with a pair of kings in my pocket and the flop went down. Two aggressive players played it out and forced me to go all in. I won the hand doubling my chips to £53. Next was Graham. He got queens in his pocket. Everyone folded before he could eek any money out. He then played a little loose and got to about £40 in chips. Rachel was the luckiest. She hit pocket tens. The flop came down. She’d made three of a kind 10s. Everyone on the table went in except Chris, Graham and I. The pot got to about £90 and she cleaned up.

About 2 hours into the game it was like this;

• Rachel – £90
• Me – £50
• Graham – £40
• Chris – £15

Not bad. This could work.

Now here’s the bad point. The casino makes its money on a rake per half hour. Every half hour we each had to pay £3. In total we stayed for 3 hours, so the total the Casino raped off us was £72.

That’s a lot of money considering we only bought in £100 in total.

As the night wore on, the rakes and blinds killed us. By the last hour, I was down to £20. Chris was down to £5 and Graham was down to £20. Rachel luckily cashed out.

I decided I couldn’t play like this. It was 1.30am and I thought fuck it. I went all in. Chris went all in. An even tighter arsed player, hit pocket aces. I couldn’t have given a shit.

We ended the night with:

• Graham – £10
• Me – £0
• Rachel – £80
• Chris – £0

We lost £10 between us for 3 hours work. If i’d have had more discipline, we’d have been £10 up.

Moral of the story:

I have no doubt that if the play was more refined, we’d have been able to double our money. Is it really worth it though? To play poker so tight that it doesn’t become fun. If we’d all have stuck to a dead end job for 3 hours, we’d have made £60 guaranteed, rather than some pot luck dream.

I’ll go to the Casino again, but with the intention of having fun.

Movie Review – Banlieue 13 aka B13

A film co written by Luc Besson; set in Paris 2010, packed with lots of free running (Parkour) and a leading lady who used to do porn. Don’t let the fact that it’s made by a bunch of cheese eating surrender monkeys dissuade you.

If that sounds like your cup of tea then read on. Better yet, go to your local bittorrent tracker.

Trailer

The film’s set in Paris 2010 where the city has walled in the banlieues. I think they were trying to draw contrasts with that beloved sliced and diced swiss cheese state that…i’ll digress.

The French subtitles refer to banlieue as barrios. I find it a tad annoying:

• Banlieue
• Ghetto
• Barrios
• Favela
• Gacekondas
• Chawls

They all mean the same thing. Poor cunts living next to a city, defined by a high level of unemployment and the crime it entails.

I just love how Luc Besson portrays women. It’s how all men fantasize women should be. Spunky.

Lola and her panties.

So the waif like girl has been kidnapped by K2, a fat mother fucker with lots of guns. He halls her past a platoon of mercenaries. One grabs her arse and tells her what he’d like to do with her. Five minutes later and the roles are reversed, she’s got the gun. As they’re leaving she shoves a gun in the guys face. Takes off her panties, shoves it in the guys mouth and makes him chew it.

The film is light on plot and heavy on action. I don’t like writing about films. Just fucking watch it.

For more information about what the film is actually about, head on over to IMDB.

Corporate branding | Rush Hour 2 | Vietnamese food at Kingsland Rd.

Rush Hour 2

Chris Leslie Evernden aka Concept and Ayi were set to play at Rush Hour 2. A Chinese party organised by JnG promotions. He called me the day before.

I’m not a particularly busy person so said I’d come. After trying to convince a few people to come and watch and failing, I decided to go by myself.

The venue was in Bank, 24 Cornhill Rd and in a club called Abacus. Rather upmarket.

I got there and said I was on Concepts guestlist. She looked at me in awe. Was Chris this famous? She turned around and spoke to her boss; he said sorry, it’s still £10. Obviously he wasn’t that famous.

I mulled around by myself for 20 odd minutes and had a couple by myself. I bumped into Chris’s friend and got even more drunk.

Chris and Ayi got on stage at 1am. They were awful. Not because they were awful, but because the sound was awful. All you could hear was a beat, feedback every few seconds and a mess. If the sound was better, then I’m sure it wouldn’t have been that bad.

Branding.

We’re trying to create a brand. The brochure had a very corporate image so we decided to add in a mascot. I stumbled past istock.com and bought some vector monsters. We used our swatch to colour them and made some nice ID cards. Each employee now has a monster.

We’re also getting the monsters made into stamps; if you like a kid then you can stamp their work. I’ll post some pictures when they’re done.

Vietnamese food at Kingsland Rd.

There’s a road near old street that’s full of Vietnamese Restuarants. I went with mother and her friend. My mother’s friend is buying a restuarant down the road so thought she’d check out the competition.

We went to a place called Viet Grill. Owned by the people who set up Cay Tre. My mother and her friend could probably name the owners of most Vietnamese restuarants in London. It’s the way things are.

The money lenders of Moc Bai (Bavet) – Jumping the Border

Casinos are a wondrous thing. They spring up in the most desolate places and cater to all of mans vices. This is a tale of how my uncles make money. Moc Bai is located on the Vietnamese-Cambodian border. As Vietnam used to have quite strict gambling laws, and Cambodia didn’t, Vietnamese people would flock to the border to gamble. Asians love gambling.

Jumping the border

I entered Vietnam on a one entry Visa. To enter Cambodia and get to Moc Bai I would have to apply for a Cambodian Visa. To re enter Vietnam I would then have to re apply for another visa. Lacking the time involved to get the said visas and the money, I decided to jump the border. My uncle arranged the fiasco.

We all drove to the border. Me, my two uncles and cousin. As we got to the border, we parked up and I jumped out. Waiting for me was a motorcycle. I left all valuables with my uncle and jumped on. The motorcycle veered down a dirt road and pelted it, full throttle, through a field. We met up with a peasant who maintained a track made of sticks across a marsh and paid the toll. The motorcycle then drove to a hole in the wall of the great casino complex. Just before we entered, the man called ahead. He called the military to confirm that we could bend the rules. It took 20 minutes.

I would say that the journey was a fantastical experience, full of soldiers shooting at me, but it really wasn’t. The journey felt like racing around a dirt track. The scariest thing was being in a third world country without my passport – could they think I was trafficking drugs?

Money lending to the money lenders

My uncle wanted me to see Moc Bai. Where he made his money. It wasn’t through gambling, but rather lending money to the gamblers.

In Asia, gambling is in the blood. People would go to the casinos, spend all their money and then fret. If they played just a little longer, then surely they could at least recoup their losses casino. The classic gamblers psycosis.

Upon entering into that psycosis, they would turn to anyone and borrow money. This is where the money lenders step in. They’ll do a credit check. They’ll ask you what property you have. Then they’ll lend you inordinate amounts of money for silly amounts of interest. The interest can be calculated per day or per week.

If you win, then you’ll pay back the money lenders, take your profits and trundle home. If you lose then, you’re, fucked. They’ll literally follow you home and demand the money.

So where does my uncle fit into all this. He lends money to the money lenders. As a money lender, you’ll be charging interest rates unheard of in this country. As long as a money lender is able to keep his money working for him, then he can afford to borrow money. The rate for lending money to the money lenders of Moc Bai: 8%. 8% each fucking month. That’s 96% per annum.

Terms & Conditions

The minimum amount to lend is $10,000. Paid in cash. Interest is to be paid in cash per month. It is your responsibility to collect the interest. The interest will be paid each month until you need the principle back or I run away.

Just to recap

I lend $10 000 to you. Each month I have to go to Moc Bai and collect the interest of $800. This occurs indefinatly until I need the principle back. This is then paid back to me. If this works for 12 months then:

$10 000 + ($800 * 12) = $19 600

To put this into comparison, the you’d be lucky with 12% per annum on the US and UK stock markets.

The eighth wonder of the world
Compound Interest

1st Year: $10 000 + ($800 * 12) = $19 600
2nd Year: $19 600 + $18 816 = $38 416
3rd Year: $38 416 + $36 879.36 = $75295.36

By year three you’d turn $10 000 into $70 000.

Everything that sounds too good to be true, is.

I’m a cynical cunt. This can’t work. There are two possible outcomes:

• It’s an out and out scam. They run with your money.
• It’s a long scam. They wait till you have a ridiculous amount of money invested and run.

We can rule out the first option as my uncle has been doing this for over a year. He’s recouped his capital. The second option however, is a lot more plausable. My uncle has over $100 000 invested. He’s mitigated his risk somewhat in the fact that he’s lent to quite a few people. When they seem untrustworthy, he’ll ask for his principle back and reinvest it.

The other option

This can work indefinatly. As long as the money lenders can screw other people, then your money’s relatively safe.

Links

New World Casino

Adventures of Bertie the couch – London

Max got drunk a few months ago. He was in a bad way. We decided to leave him in the office after he refused to go home. The next day we arrived to the sweet smell of ammonia. He’d pissed himself.

A few months later, Max finally felt enough guilt to buy us a new couch. Guilt is a rather rare and disturbing development in Max’s psyche.

After buying the couch from Max’s manager, we towed it through Kingston. The heat was immense and we sat down for a quick fag break. From here on in, we took a break every 5 minutes.

We passed our old school, Tiffin Boys, and decided to pop in and take a couple of snaps. Unfortunately the CCTV caught us and a couple of bemused teachers confronted us. Thankfully they were nice enough to let us take a few pictures before moving us on. That’s Mr King on the left, my old Geography teacher.

After seeing Mr King, I decided a pint would be best. The problem is the closest pub, was full of our old teachers. On a summers afternoon, all the teachers fuck off down the pub. It’s an unwritten rule that students are not to fraternise with the teachers. They’re embarressed of us. Like people don’t know they’re bloody teachers. For the Tiffinian’s amongst you, we saw:

• O’Connell
• Williams
• Liddy
• Skirton
• Lipchenska [sic]
• Girling

I started chatting to them. I offered them all a job . They kindly refused. At this point the cider soaked in and we decided to take Bertie to London.

It’s surprisingly easy to get a couch onto a train. At first, you feel slightly eccentric, but after 10 minutes it’s just like the commute. I read through that shite paper, The London Paper; While it’s better than the London Lite, it’s still just an aggregation of the AP. I’m secretly hoping that i’ll be in it tomorrow, under the “You were on the train sitting on that couch looking dapper, coffee sometime? x” section.

The couch had never seen the London Eye before, so we decided to stop by. British Airways refused our couch on the Eye. Maybe next time.

After the Eye, we dragged the sofa over the bridge towards Embankment. I got a busker to serenade Max and I. Max got a little carried away and tried to kiss me.

After that little incident, I decided I needed another drink. We entered the first pub along that steep road towards Charing Cross. The pint tasted like it’d been sweetened with sugar. Do avoid. We met some chef’s from the Royal Society of Arts, he did his best to explain what or where it was, but I really wasn’t listening. I do remember where they were from; Scotland, Liverpool and Sweden respectively. They seemed each to bear the stereotypes of their respective places.

My phone camera isn’t best suited to night pictures. We asked quite a few people to take a picture with their cameras, but no one’s emailed them to me. Darn.

I can’t remember how many people have sat on this couch. I’m assuming it’s a lot.

To the future

Bertie is resting in our office. I don’t know if he can bear another trip. We’ll try and find another sofa from somewhere. I was thinking down the Mall, Leicster Sq and Hyde Park next. During the summer we could do the festivals. Maybe calling Ikea would be a good idea.

Click on page 2 for the full gallery.