My Polka face

 One thing I learned from having a gambling addiction is one, it's immensely addictive, and two, you are so fucked. Well for me it's different because I'm the one and only Darius Vapline and nobody can take these brittle bones down. But these brittle bones have been broken a few times, but I've always managed to cheat death. I'm just going to stop being so full of myself for a second, and tell all the kiddos my story of the dangers of gambling.

It's addictive, but it's not necessarily a bad habit when you have money to spend from your inheritance. My family should've thought better of me when they wrote my name in their will, but I ever so appreciate this thankful donation. With all this money to spend, I gotta take a lot of risks and that's how I got into gambling and this mess that I'll get into later. Life wasn't so easy when they died, but I found ways to get around it like sketchy schemes, a bit of smuggling, gambling, and maybe some experimental odds and ends on the side.

I met a lot of people and savored their contacts. The reason I still keep intact is keeping contacts is an adequate way to be successful. Now I may push them away whenever they point out my "problem", which I don't typically think is technically bad. It brings more fun to my life, but until now all it has gone spoiled for me. This is pretty ridonculous because I have a little pocket of my mother's ashes as a lucky charm, therefore should've gotten me out of this fore-said situation. Talking about luck and little charms, I believe heavily in that type of weird voodoo luck stuff that I soon found out didn't quite save me.

To start off again my name is Darius Vapline, an early retired slave working for the U.S government for 10ish years. Then went on to live life on his parents' inheritances spending money there and there, like a dope. And now is in his final moments letting death choose his continuation of life. Now that's me in a nutshell and alas I can finally talk about my mishap.