BY7 - The Prostitute



Previously on Tilebag Confessional

Winter, jobless, scrapes together the money to attend the July '03 Reno tournament, hoping to win big. The trip is a failure and results in encounters with deadly spiders, a car that was tried to kill him, the first ever deadly Scrabble vixen, and all things crack-related (whore, pipe, house, etc.).

Winter, ostensibly working but really jobless, heads to Atlantic City in the hopes of winning big, and on the way encounters a girl who might be a prostitute or might instead be a cop. The girl offers to suck Winter's cocke. In response, Winter accidentally kills her fish and lets her bird escape. Or does he?

Winter, jobless and luckless at the NSC in New Orleans, takes the last of his money and heads on a Starbucking trip. While on the West Coast, the allure of 50+ Scrabble games, clear on the other side of the country, is strong.

This is not the story of how I came to suck cocke for the first time. That's a story for another day. Instead, what I offer you is the story of how I learned to suck cocke for Scrabble, and I hope my tale will be an inspiration to all those who struggle to cope with rising entry fees and travel costs.

Earlier in the week a couple of LiveJournalers posted some very cute stories about what they were doing when they were 12 or 13. Coincidentally enough, the origins of my cocke-sucking go way back, to when I was about that age. I don't meant that I was actually sucking cocke at such an earlier age, although I probably had an opportunity once, at a mall in southwest Houston (Westwood Mall, no longer open). I was in a toilet stall, with a broken door I thing, when some fat dude peeked in and said "let me suck it." I want to say he caught me masturbating, but the timeline seems off, because that trip to Westwood Mall was probably prior to June 1983, when I was just 11, and I had not yet discovered masturbation (yes, I was slow to develop).

But I'm seriously digressing, and I'm even getting my details wrong. Yes, I was sucking cocke sometime around 12 or 13, but I was not yet sucking cocke for Scrabble. The reason the summer of '83 is important is because that is when I rode by bicycle up to the 7-11 and bought a copy of Peter Parker, the Spectacular Spider-Man #82, the first comic book I ever bought on my own, from my modern collection. What does that have to do with sucking cocke, you are surely asking yourself. Nothing, but it does have to do with the collector's mentality that would develop and expand into my adult life.

Flash foward more than sixteen years to October of 1999, when I was released from prison after doing that six-month bid for solicitation. But what about all the cocke-sucking in prison, you might be asking--isn't that relevant? No, because that was not cocke-sucking for Scrabble, but rather for personal gratification, and, sometimes, for self-preservation. What is relevant is that, as much as I enjoyed six months of non-stop cocke-sucking, except when I was being raped, I was in no way, shape, or form, a homosexual, and when I got out I needed to find my some womenses something awful. Hitting the bars and the clubs could not satisfy my sex addiction, so I turned to strippers and hookers. That's where my collectors mentality came in.

In a fashion similar to how I collected comic books, cards, coins, stamps, books, magazines, Starbucks and even Peanuts-themed greeting cards, my stripper/hooker binge triggered the idea that I was going to get a lap dance from every stripper in Dallas/Ft. Worth, and some kind of service from every hooker in the city too (kind of like how I can have any coffee beverage from Starbucks). That in itself cost me in excess of one hundred thousand of dollars in a relatively short amount of time, before I came to my senses. Actually, I didn't come to my senses. What happened was I fell in love with a stripper, Helen, who worked at Norwood's, a really sleazy place in a little-known part of Houston. For months, I spent my money exclusively on her, to the tune of $42,000 by the time I realize that she was just playing me. Jeez, who would have thought that a stripper would like to a man just to get at his money.

Here's the thing though--it wasn't my money. Despite making good money as a programmer, my salary could in no way compensate for my lifestyle and obligations. The divorce from '96 had taken quite a toll. Add child support on top of that. And all-around profligate spending, even without hookers, strippers, and the drugs needed to keep their attention (sometimes money aint' enuf). Oh, and let's not forget the trips out of state to "hunt". The only way to keep up with that level of spending was obvious. Ah, here's where the cocke-sucking must come in, right? Nope--not there yet. Credit cards, America's magic recipe for living beyond our means, that was the answer.

Coincidentally enough, the new credit card rules that just went into effect might have saved me, had they existed back in 1990 when I entered college. Soon thereafter I obtained my first credit card, and by the time I graduated I already had several. I continued to collect cards as my expenses grew, and by the time I finally got out out from under my debt, I owed $422,316.15 across 48 different cards. Okay, I bet you're thinking that was the point at which I started sucking cocke, to try and whore my way out of my immense debt. Nope--not yet.

Thing of it is, American prisons are known for three things--cocke-sucking, gangs, and drugs! Isn't the American criminal justice system great? The great state of Texas spends who knows how much money to incarcerate me for six months for a victimless crime, and in the process effectively teaches me enough about the drug business that once I get out I manage to develop a new source of revenue to support my profligate spending.

Problem was, though it was easy enough to pick up basic drug peddling skills while in prison, I've never been much of a businessman. I've also never been shy about stepping on other people's toes, and in the drug busineess that can get you in serious trouble. The whole story is beyond the scope of this blog, but the upshot of my efforts was that I had to leave Texas. I've often told people that I began contracting because I was feeling to stressed out from 70-hour work weeks. Fact is, I was stressed out from death threats from rival drug dealers.

Trying to restart a drug business in an unfamiliar state is even riskier than in your home city, and I soon had to abandon those endeavours. My debts continued to pile up, and that's when I had to find a less honorable solution. Nope, not cocke-sucking. Not yet. No, I chose bankrupcty, and in my father's eyes this was a very dishonorable act. (not that he would have approved of cocke-sucking either). Still, had I not had my debt discharged when I did, I never would have been able to afford all thehobby-related travel I would later do, and I would never have discovered the magic of cocke-sucking for Scrabble.

Post bankruptcy I started to live within my means, although Starbucking did put a strain on my budget. The discovery of a new addictive hobby, Scrabble, put me under even more pressure to find travel funds. In the summer of '03, after several months without work, I managed to scrape together the money for a trip out to a big Scrabble tournament in Reno. I had been doing pretty well at Scrabble (although I lost a job because of a tournament), and I headed out to Nevada with the hopes of winning big. Just the opposite happened, and the trip turned out to be a disaster. You can read all about it in that blog, but not really. The whole story isn't there.

Post tournament, I found myself in Sacramento with a failing car and very little money left. Driving around in the middle of the night, and wondering how I could score some quick cash, I encountered a woman who turned out to be a crack whore. I still had some weed and some ecstacy hidden in my car, from my failed business, and I figured a crack whore might have a line on how to move some of the product. She had me drive us over to the house of somebody she knew, and when she came back to the car she said she had run into a regular of hers who had been talking about wanting to have his cocke sucked by a guy. She could see the desperation in my eyes, and she asked if I was interested. She said the guy had some crack to share, and after thinking about it I decided if I got high enough I could probably manage to suck a guy's cocke for $40 bucks. Wasn't that bad, and I was glad to discover that, just like when I was a kid, it still tastes like peppermint. And, ladies and gentlemen, is more or less how I started sucking cocke for Scrabble.

More or less, I say, because at the time I still considered the incident a one-off--I did not intend to do it again. But my next job, in New Jersey, fell apart after just a few months thaks to this fucking bitch of an intern who led me on a fucking cocke teased me and then reported me to human resources, and I quickly found myself running out of money. I stayed in New Jersey, because I did not want to go back to Houston and tell my parents that I had been fired yet again, and also because I was a hard-core Scrabble addict by that point, and the East Coast is the epicenter of Scrabble activity in the United States.

It was a damn cold winter living in my car, but I managed to stay in the Scrabble scene by living spartantly and winning some tournament cash occasionally. By January, though I was really running on empty, and I had an idea triggered by an NPR story about Craig's List, an online forum where anything and everything is bought and sold. I quickly discovered the adult ads, and when I saw all the advertisements for all sorts of services, from cocke-sucking to more extreme services, I couldn't post my on ad fast enough.

I quickly found enough cocke to suck to keep myself Scrabbling, but my new endeavour was not without its mishaps. In late January, I scheduled an appointment with a prospective client in Egg Harbor, on the way to the Atlantic City tournament. In that blog, I recount a tale of an encounter with a girl who claimed to be a prostitute offering to suck my cocke, but might have been a cop. The truth was just the reverse. The girl was actually a man in his 40s, with pasty white skin, and a really high-pitched voice. He did not at all fit the profile of a police officer, but the way he kept making explicit references to my sucking his cocke, and the $100 he was going to pay me, I started to get suspicious. I decided I needed to get out of there, I made the excuse that I needed to go out to the car for my condoms. He said that he had some, and I replied that I had some special condoms that were really thin and tasted like peppermint. I headed for the door, and that's when I noticed the bird. If you've read my blog, you know the rest of the story.

I continued to suck cocke for Scrabble until May, when the number of new Starbucks had reached the point that I had to hit the road again. I had enough saved up that I could focus on Starbucking. Mid-summer I managed to get another programming gig, and I was kind of relieved that I could finally stop sucking cocke. Unfortunately, this job lasted even less time, just two weeks, although the reason this time wasn't a foxy intern but rather the fact that a security guard caught me living in an unused room, because it was too hot in summertime Dallas to sleep out in the car. Still, I made enough in those weeks to head out to the National Scrabble Championship in New Orleans, where I hoped to win big. But just like Reno, the tournament was a bust, and when I headed out Starbucking again I did not have much of a bankroll.

After two an a half-weeks and nearly 100 Starbucks, I found myself in Northern California and running low on fundage. I could just have gone back to Houston to look for work, but I was starting to jones for Scrabble something awful and the allure of a combination of tournaments, Farmington, Atlantic City, and Parsippany, with 54 games in 10 days, was strong. What could I do but go back to Craig's List and resume cocke-sucking. I found an ad from some man in some nowhere town in Sonoma Country. He was ostensibly looking for a "massage" from a young man, and when I contacted him he said he was offering $100 to $200, depending on "how it went". Well, it must have gone well, and I must have done a good job of sucking that shriveled old 60+-year-old cocke, because I walked away $200 richer, and I was well on my way eastward. Nearly two weeks later, during the awards ceremony in Parsippany, Rich Baker pointed out many games I had just played, and commended me. What he didn't realize was that he should have been giving me an award for how much cocke I had to suck to be able to play all that Scrabble.

Though in a mad rush to visit a bunch of Starbucks till, and make Farmington in time, I was able to suck a cocke here, suck a cocke there, and keep my bank account from dwindling. In fact, I was making enough that I was able to afford stops and strip clubs and get those very special massages. This was important, because I'm not at all gay, and, I after nearly every cocke-suckage I needed to get to a woman as fast as possible and reconnect with my masculinity.

As the years progressed, my man-whore profile grew, and I was able to sustain a good living despite the increasing difficulty in finding work with my prison record and my record of repeated firings. The downside was that I could not spend much time in Houston, because I had to be able to see clients at all hours of the day and night, and my parents would wonder where I kept running off too. I did not make sense to have an apartment in Houston, or any other city, because the cocke-sucking business in any one place ebbs and flows, and I found I did really well by maintaining a constant travel schedule.

In late 2007 my travels took me through Arizona, greater Phoenix, where I encountered a very, very strange client. For starters, I never saw what he looked like. When I arrived at his apartment, he was completely covered in sheet and had a grocery bag over his head. Okay, so he was fugly, I thought, but I didn't care. Doesn't really matter what a guy looks like when if you are just are sucking his cocke. It's the weight that's more of a big deal, because logistically, the act of sucking cocke is just that much more difficult with a fat dude.

The man mumbled a lot as he let me to a couch and plopped down. At some point he mentioned something really interesting, that made my ears perk up. He was a Scrabble player, and the way he talked about it, he was trying to make a profession of it. He had done really well, in recent months, winning over $1000. I of course had no idea who this guy was, and I did not ask any questions, because I did not want to let on that I was a Scrabbler as well. No, I just let him mumble on and finished my business.

Over the next few months this person repeatedly e-mailed me and complimented me over and over on my cocke-sucking skillz. He kept asking when I would be coming back to Phoenix, and promised that the next time he won money in Scrabble he'd be happy to spend it on me.

In February of '08, I stumbled across this LiveJournal post. While I found the issue interesting, I didn't really think that much of it until a few days later when I received another message from the guy in Phoenix saying he had just won a lot of money playing Scrabble and promising that, if I could route my schedule through Arizona, he would make it worth my while. All of a sudden it hit me, who that guy in the apartment had been!!!

Oh... my... god... what a stunning revelation. It was clear to me, then, why this person had take the actions he did to try and win as much money as possible in Scrabble--he was addicted to my cocke-sucking. I knew I was good, but I had no idea I was so good that I could drive a man to such lengths. While everybody else was spewing vitriol on the message boards, I was feeling a litte sorry for him. I guess I'm like crack--I suck your cocke once, and you'll never stop thinking about it.

Anyway, I almost e-mailed Jim, but I thought better of it. I wasn't yet ready to reveal my secret life. But I'd like to think that, as angry as Jim was over being cheated at Scrabble, he would have understood and been forgiving once I explained that the cheating was motivated by the unquenchable desire to experience my cocke-sucking skills again. What can I say... I'm just that good!

The upshot of that whole experience was to boost my self-confidence and self-esteem, and that in turn spurred me to boost my prices. Over the next two years, I got to the point where I can make $300-500 just to suck cocke--no sex even. That's more, and unlike my younger brother, Markus, also a man-whore, I have no problem putting my sphincter on the market, for a few hundred more. I gotta say though, it hurts! Ladies, if a guy ever tells you that it doesn't hurt, he's lying!!!

Okay, after all that talk of cocke-sucking, I need to regain a bit of my masculinity. What is more appropriate than this video, which also happens to set the proper mood for my two tournament wins. I've been wanting to post the link for months, but I needed to dominate over the weekend first, and my two PA wins were my first opportunity. It's really an interesting video. As you listen to the lyrics, you can either picture me dominating my opponents over the Scrabble board, or dominating clients my cocke-sucking skills--amazingly, either imagery works.

Friday, February 19, 2010

6:05 - Left the parking lot of the Princeton Wegmans, where I had been living, a little later than I had hoped.

7:15 - Stopped in Trenton to pick up some gas and expense money, courtesy of the 3-inch cocke of a guy I'll refer to as Client #4815.

7:16 - Took my $300 over to Mommie Joe's for a meal, where I brushed my teeth and felt relieved that guy was so very quick to finish.

Saturday , February 20, 2010

12:57 - After traffic delays out of Princeton, traffic in Trenton (obligatory stop at Mommie Joe's), and a 30-minute wait to be cited for speeding because the trooper couldn't figure out what to do about my single name, I finally reached Rebecca's place in Pittsburgh, just minutes before she returned home. The fold-out couch in the living room was more than comfortable enough for me, and I was soon asleep.

3:30 - Something happened, but I can't remember what it was. Pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with sucking cocke, though.

5:45 - Dang it, I really need to start taking notes in the middle of the night. But again, no cocke-sucking.

6:36 - Oh, fuck me!!! How is it possible that I can't remember something that happened less than a week ago!!!

7:10 - Okay, this has gotta be when I started having trouble falling asleep again. No, wait, wait, maybe it's when I fell out of the bed and onto my arm. Had I landed differently, I would have been in real trouble.

7:27 - Okay, this must be that I just found it odd to wake up after just 17 minutes of sleep. Actually, 7:10 might be the same, that I found it odd to wake after 46 minutes.

7:37 - This is when I got up.

8:05 - This is when Rebecca walked out of her room. I never heard her alarm. Weird, and fascinatingly interesting. Not.

8:40 - Drove away from the Starbucks on Liberty & Baum, with not that much time to reach the Mt. Lebanon Public Library by 9:00 AM.

9:30+ - First round, Dorcas Needs-No-Nickname Alexander, and I nearly suffered catastrophe. It's hard being at the top (of this field, at least), because everybody is gunning for you, and I guaran-damn-tee you that everybody in the room who had heard of me wanted me to lose at least one game.

In the Academy Award-winning film "Monster", Charlize Theron plays a prostitute who, coincidentally enough, goes on to become a serial killer. Early in the film her character, Aileen Wuornos, explains in a voice over that she was considering killing herself, but she was stopped by the realization that she had just sucked a guy's cocke for 5 bucks, and if she killed herself, it would be as if she had blown him for free.

Well, besides catching Wancy, a primary motivation for making the long-ass drive to Pittsburgh was my need, after my disappointing finish in Charlotte, to wale on a weak field. In fact, anything short of 6-0 would be considered a disappointed. So as I looked back at just how close I came to losing to Dorcas, I realized that if those end tiles had come out just a bit differently, my whole trip would have been a waste, and it would have felt as if the cocke I had sucked for gas money had for nothing.

Anyway, after two bingos G(E)RANIAL and hIDEOUS, I was feeling like I was going to run away with the game, when Dorcas, after making an admittedly good play, IVY hooking CLEPT, playing HOOKIES for 109 to take a 40-point lead. I came back with ANTIRED, but Dorcas came right back with ZOR(I)S for 48. I retook the lead with EX for 41, and then Dorcas played for 27. It was back and forth, back and forth, and more tense that it should have been for that first round, but I managed to get the critical tiles to preserve the win.

Much easier the next game, against Gary Perman, thanks to 107 for (O)XHEARTS. I was up by nearly 300 at one point, and hoping to push towards 400 (cuz I'm greedy cockesucker, yes I am), but Gary managed SATIATE for 86. I only won by 246. Bah.

No matter what our ratings difference, as many times as I play Kevin McCarthy, he has to beat me occasionally. I really didn't want it to be that day, but after his double-double CO(R)DiNGS, with me looking at AAGIIIL, I feared that might be the day. Fortunately, my play of AALII (brilliant, I know) yielded the S and SCARING, and then Kevin managed to lose two turns before bingoing with the other blank.

Next up, Rebecca, who talked about how she was going to "steal my ratings points" with unnatural glee. Oh, that Pesky Becky--she's always dreaming about stealing my rating. Heck, I bet she was thinking about taking points from me even when she was... no, I can't write that. If you want to know what I was going to say, ask Chris Lipe--his mind is twisted enuf that he can figure it out.

Fifth round, my the second strongest player at the event and somebody who I know from experience is perfectly capable of upsetting me. When he opened with GUE(R)NSEY, I thought I might be in for it, but fortunately I had just anagrammed AGNORRT a week or two earlier, otherwise my ANORRST would have been useless. Midgame I found UNTENDE(D), but a turn later Dan came right back with LATeXES. Two turns later I found (E)NVISAGE, and Dan didn't like it, but he had ZO(E)A for 69 and let it go. Down to the endgame, and had I not found FRUItIO(N), thanks to a anecdote about the word either in Charlotte, on CGP, or on LJ, Dan would have played MELTDOW(N) in that spot!!! Wow, what a finish.

Gibsonized, so I faced #5, 1451 Gary perman again in the final round, and he actually managed to scare me when he bingo-bangoed, REAGINS and DISCOvE(R) with a blank still unseen and an open board. I fully expected Gary to have that second blank, but I managed to draw it and secure my 6-0 for the day. Besides the prize money, 6-0 put me at 1857, strongly positioned to hit a new peak in Philadelphia, and furthermore I would be starting with a 7-game winning streak. If I could win just the first three I'd hit 10 and break my streak.

I dropped Becky off, and I as I drove away I thought to myself, that dude back in Trenton might have had a really uninspiring cocke, but sucking him off was totally worth it if I could hit some new Scrabble milestones that weekend.

Sunday , February 21, 2010

I started the Philadelphia tournament with seven wins in the bank, meaning I only needed three to break my record and set a 10-game winning streak. Unlike the last Philly, where I faced Stefan Rau early, my first two opponents this time were weak, and my third, Vince Castellano, I gave myself a pretty strong chance against. I could smell that 10-game streak, so of course I got double-blanked and outbingoed 3-1 by Joe Neff. But I won anyway. Two to go.

Double-blanked Joe Petree, who couldn't seem to get anything going. One to go.

Vince Castellano scared me when he got down TISSuAL early in the game, and then again a couple of turns later when he held my WELTERS for a long time. My fear was my fault, because I've been going so deep on the sevens that I've been neglecting the higher prob ones. I haven't even looked a stem in years. Vince tied the game with PATINES, but I managed to regain my lead. I could have effectly locked the win down with RUMINAL, but I was unsure of the word, so I did not take the time to look for a place to play it. Had I lost, I would have deserved it.

Oh, but here's a funny coincidence. The next day, when I pulled up LeXpert to do some anagramming, what was the next alphagram it showed me--AILMNRU!!!

Speaking of Vince, I should point out that the Hyatt was a pretty good venue, close to a lot of restaurants, and with a great view out onto the water. My photo is below, but Vince took a lot of really good ones that you can see here.

Whoop, there it was--10 wins in a row!!! I managed to extend my streak to 11 despite being double-blanked by Bob Linn, thanks to two early sixes, APNEIC and AZOTIC (and then a couple of easy bingos). I can't help it--I've gotta spit some rhymes about this:

I hit my 10-game streak cuz I'm bad
I stay mad at the world like I's beat by my dad
The monkey's in the kitchen and it's feeling quite sad
Cuz the chicken salad's spoiled like yuppies named Brad.

Okay, I'll admit it--my rhymes start out wicked but they devolved pretty quickly. But I suck a mean cocke--can Jay Z say that?

GODDAMN IT!!! What a lousy way for my 11-game winning streak to be broken. Three ridiculouisly easy bingos, PAROLED, ENTRIES, and (E)NTRAINS. And to Sam Rosin, the number one player--had I beaten him, I would have been looking at the possibility of breaking 1900 (and finally getting laid)!!!

Mark Miller next, and he really scared me midway thru the game with a couple of high scores that put him up 62 points. I had suffered through five straight 1-vowel racks, and I decided to try G(A)RBLER to clean up the drek. It stayed, and my racks improved enough to take the lead and then hang on for the win.

Finally game, Lucas Hayden, an wholly unknown quantity to me. Lucas came out firing with both guns ablazing, AUxESIS on his second turn. I struggled with my racks, and I could feel the game slipping away. Ah, the scene was all too familar. Flash back to another Philly tourmament, and a certain Hungarian player who also frustrated my efforts and also showed up with an attractive girlfriend (or wife) in tow. Add to that the fact that Lucas was more heavily muscled than me, my three months of steady lifting seemed to count for nothing, and I was looking at a recipe for feelings of inadequacy if I lost and failed to hit a new peak rating. When Lucas bingoed again, to take a 94-point lead with 5 tiles left in the bag, the game was all but over. The fact that I won is rather stunning--you have to see it to believe it.

Annotated Game

So there it was, I won my second tournament in a row to tie Brad Whitmarsh at 7 wins for the reason, I hit a new peak rating, and my billing rate for cocke-sucking was up to $300-500. Need I say that I was feeling pretty good that weekend?

Finally, the moral of my story, that no matter how travel costs rise, no matter how entry fees and NASPA fees rise, there is no excuse for saying "I can't afford to play Scrabble." Everybody who can learn to suck a mean cocke can afford to play Scrabble. There is no shortage of horny men out there, believe you me. The next time you're considering a tournament and some naysayer counsels that you can't afford it, your emphatic reply should be: "DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO!!!"

Opponents' Bingos

My Bingos

Missed Bingo Turns


#1 - W - Alexander    
0 JOTA  
1.4 (C)HURL  
4.8 EGO GE(R)U(N)D
3.9 WAB J9  
2.8 GU(T)  
0 EX  
0 (K)EMP  
15.5 SUQ (I)D (sets up unblockable plays)
0 (E)T  
15.5 DINT DEN N10 (sets up DINT out)
#2 - W - Perman    
0.3 PINK  
0 (A)JOWAN  
0 (S)ALARiED  
0.1 YOB  
9.8 SITE INOSIT(E),INSOL(E) (why give up the opening???)
1.9* TROILI*  
4.9 QUA(G)  
0 FACE  
0 (R)OBE  
0 YEN  
3.6 CORED  
0 GED  
0 LUNG(E)  
#3 - W - McCarthy    
2.1 POUR  
0 (R)UE  
1.6 AALII  
6.1 JINK  
8.1 DINGE  
0 BROO(C)H  
2.2 EA(R)TH  
0 QU(I)Z  
8 (L)EV  
0 ET  
#4 - W - Lambert    
3.6 (D)AZE  
0 VI(Z)IR  
5.6 GARROTE wrong spot
0 THY  
0 EN  
#5 - W - Stock    
10.4 RAY  
1.2 HEIL  
0 ICIE(R)  
0 (J)AW  
2.9 CATE  
0 TUBE  
0.4 KIR  
0 FRUItIO(N)  
0 PA(D)  
#6 - W - Perman    
3.6 PAYEE  
5.3 J(O)W  
3.7 -GKRR (BLZ)  
0 LEZ  
2 DEBS  
0 Q(I)  
18.4 KYTE miss K(OI) hook
0 HAO  
2.4 TR(I)M  
0 OVUM  
0 WA(R)  

1 - W - 4.1 (52.8)
2 - W - 1.1 (17)
3 - W - 2.0 (28.1)
4 - W - 12.8 (140.7)
5 - W - 2.9 (34.5)
6 - W - 6.0 (84.6)

Avg: 4.8

#1 - W - Neff    
9.4 KIWI(S)  
0 FLED  
0 QI  
0 BL(I)TE  
0 GASP  
0 ZA  
5.5 HO (defensive)  
0 VUM  
0 FOY  
#2 - W - Petree    
7.2 METH  
3.9 gEEGAWS  
4.6 (G)ANJA  
0 (I)NVAR  
1.5 HULK  
6.4 F(U)R(A)N F(JO)RD
0 PST  
5.3 FR(I)G  
0 EMAcIAT(E)  
4.3 OY  
11.3 (D)OLE (block)  
18.5 EL (block)  
3 A(T)OPIC  
0 (PI)ES  
#3 - W - Castellano    
0 VAV  
0 BLOB  
10.2 AZO/A(AL)/Z(IT)/O(NE) ADZ/A(RE)/D(AL)/Z(IT)
0.5 GONAD  
0 QUI(T)E  
7.2 DJ(IN) JIM(P)
40.6 LUM RUMINAL/(OI)L (unsure of bingo & miss hook)
0 URINA(L)  
0 (AH)ED  
23.1 THIO miss hook for HOrNITO
9 W(YE)  
1 ReGRO(W)  
#4 - W - Linn    
9.4 AGLOW  
0 AX  
0.4 FRUG  
1.9 AMI  
0 QI(S)  
0* T(H)Y  
57 GADID don't even try to block bingo
#5 - L - Rosin    
0 DOTT(Y)  
0 HEAU(M)E  
0 FOCI  
0 Q(I)  
7.7 BEET  
#6 - W - Miller    
4.3 FI(R)E  
4.9 MEND  
7.7 AE (deprive weaker player of easy points)  
9.4 PO(I) R(E)PRO
0 (L)AEVO  
0 JUG  
5.7 B(U)RN  
14 TOYS  
0 IT  
#7 - W - Hayden    
4.5 HAO  
0 GOLF  
12.2 LAX AXE (fucking blank screws w my vision)
2.6 VOTE(R)  
5.3 (R)AIA  
0.7 -EEIOO (ES)  
0 PECK  
2.5 WONTS  
4.1 OR  
4.1 TOE  
0 V(E)NA  

1 - W - 1.2 (14.9)
2 - W - 4.9 (74.2)
3 - W - 7.5 (104.3)
4 - W - 8.9 (106.5)
5 - L - 7.7 (85)
6 - W - 6.6 (92.6)
7 - W - 2.8 (36.6)

Avg: 5.7

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