Christ but we live in arse-cripplingly safe times - aka The Gambling Commission

[Jiggerycock]

As if undebated lockdown isn't good enough in terms of State over-reach, the cunts at the Gambling Commission are  discussing the possibility of introducing checks to counter what they see as problem gambling.

This could mean a monthly net loss of as little as £100 might prompt an intervention, meaning a customer having to prove they could afford to lose more before being able to place another bet.

Like Brexit again, pandering to a minority - this time the .5% of punters who have a gambling problem - by punishing the 99.5% who don't. 

......and if this doesn't affect you, I bet (ha-ha) they'll be coming after anyone who goes to the boozer a bit too often for the State's liking next.

 

[Hammer of Cunts]

About time too.

[Cunty BigBollox]

Fuck this. I don't need the state to control my habits as I have the intelligence to manage my actions - and more importantly - have the balls to accept it's my fault when things go awry. When I used to go horse racing I had a set amount for bets in one pocket and kept my winnings, if any, in another pocket. simple.

Nowadays, aside from the premium bonds, where I have £50k worth languishing I only 'gamble' on the Irish Lottery - mainly because I hate those Camelot cunts and anything to do with the National Lottery and the associated spin-offs to extract money out of peoples pockets. Admittedly there are some feckless wankers who require this level of control over their own money as they will either gamble the lot away or spend it frivolously on some pathetic hobby like model helicopters while there family have to make do with Value beans on toast, I imagine.

[ChildeHarold]

5 hours ago, Jiggerycock said:

As if undebated lockdown isn't good enough in terms of State over-reach, the cunts at the Gambling Commission are  discussing the possibility of introducing checks to counter what they see as problem gambling.

This could mean a monthly net loss of as little as £100 might prompt an intervention, meaning a customer having to prove they could afford to lose more before being able to place another bet.

Like Brexit again, pandering to a minority - this time the .5% of punters who have a gambling problem - by punishing the 99.5% who don't. 

......and if this doesn't affect you, I bet (ha-ha) they'll be coming after anyone who goes to the boozer a bit too often for the State's liking next.

 

A libertarian giving it large on behalf of us all. Why not bush meat? Why not do as you like behind the wheel? Why not sell alcohol to children? Cigarettes to under 16s? Probe the libertarian a bit more carefully and you will find a very restrictive ultra-conservative judgemental harpee. 

[Jiggerycock]

20 minutes ago, ChildeHarold said:

A libertarian giving it large on behalf of us all. Why not bush meat? Why not do as you like behind the wheel? Why not sell alcohol to children? Cigarettes to under 16s? Probe the libertarian a bit more carefully and you will find a very restrictive ultra-conservative judgemental harpee. 

Oh God 'Class War' has arrived!!

 

[Eric Cuntman]

2 minutes ago, Jiggerycock said:

Oh God 'Class War' has arrived!!

 

Along with a total fucking cretin.

[ChildeHarold]

2 minutes ago, Jiggerycock said:

Oh God 'Class War' has arrived!!

 

There's something blowing in the wind. 

[Eric Cuntman]

6 minutes ago, ChildeHarold said:

There's something blowing in the wind. 

Probably flatulence. Cocaine does that.

[ChildeHarold]

1 minute ago, Eric Cuntman said:

Probably flatulence. Cocaine does that.

All movements start at the bottom. 

[King Billy]

7 hours ago, Jiggerycock said:

As if undebated lockdown isn't good enough in terms of State over-reach, the cunts at the Gambling Commission are  discussing the possibility of introducing checks to counter what they see as problem gambling.

This could mean a monthly net loss of as little as £100 might prompt an intervention, meaning a customer having to prove they could afford to lose more before being able to place another bet.

Like Brexit again, pandering to a minority - this time the .5% of punters who have a gambling problem - by punishing the 99.5% who don't. 

......and if this doesn't affect you, I bet (ha-ha) they'll be coming after anyone who goes to the boozer a bit too often for the State's liking next.

 

Nothing will happen....6/1 on

They will do exactly what they’ve said....10,000/1

 

[Last Cunt Standing]

8 hours ago, Jiggerycock said:

As if undebated lockdown isn't good enough in terms of State over-reach, the cunts at the Gambling Commission are  discussing the possibility of introducing checks to counter what they see as problem gambling.

This could mean a monthly net loss of as little as £100 might prompt an intervention, meaning a customer having to prove they could afford to lose more before being able to place another bet.

Like Brexit again, pandering to a minority - this time the .5% of punters who have a gambling problem - by punishing the 99.5% who don't. 

......and if this doesn't affect you, I bet (ha-ha) they'll be coming after anyone who goes to the boozer a bit too often for the State's liking next.

 

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

[King Billy]

5 minutes ago, Last Cunt Standing said:

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

Did you ride home on your bike and have Hovis for tea? FFS.

[Last Cunt Standing]

1 minute ago, King Billy said:

Did you ride home on your bike and have Hovis for tea? FFS.

It were grand. 

[Eric Cuntman]

1 hour ago, King Billy said:

Did you ride home on your bike and have Hovis for tea? FFS.

A short leap from the Hovis advert to Blade Runner.

[Neil]

8 hours ago, Last Cunt Standing said:

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

"And you try tellin' that t' youth of today......................... and they wont believe ya"

[colonelkurtz]

For sheer cuntery it's hard to beat the jolly japes of the bingo and lottery TV ads with sets and colour schemes aimed squarely at  the ladies and empty heads who fall for the make believe land of shiny happy people in glittery garden get togethers, pink unicorns  and prancing about in the street gurning uncontrollably  when the big oversized cheque is handed over to you by a toothsome twat pretty boy or marginally fuckable mumsy type who wouldn't normally venture within a mile of you or your grotty little street .  All this can be yours when you are part of the deleriously happy as fuck bingo and lottery community. But don't forget to gamble responsibly peeps .. give me a fucking break

[Neil]

The biggest cuntery is the 'take time out to cash out' bollocks.As if someone who wants to put a pony on race gets the option to click a button that enables him to consider if he really wants to make the bet is going to change his mind and keep his cash.Box ticking fleecing cunts.Ban any betting advertising,its not as if we all know that they're there if we want a flutter,immoral fucking wankers

[White Cunt]

13 hours ago, Last Cunt Standing said:

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

A friend of mine, now in his early sixties, had to remortgage his house twice to settle vast gambling debts. And the man was (and still is) a head of accounts for a multi million pound group of companies here in the UK. It’s a horrible addiction, I’m just happy he stopped gambling and won’t go back to it again. 
He is still single and no children, so at least no one, besides him suffered.

[Jiggerycock]

15 hours ago, Last Cunt Standing said:

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

Quick betting shop story.

Back when I used to frequent bookies (or 'Turf Accountants' as they branded themselves) and lived in a rough part of Liverpool, there was this incongrous old gentleman who used to pop in to Stanleys (long since swallowed up by Ladbrokes I think). Incongrous because he spoke with a cut glass accent and was always dressed in Crombie, brogues, shirt and tie - proper 'Toff in Toxteth'

Anyway, he'd place his bet and watch the race and mother of God the language!

In a location where effing and jeffing was very much the order of the day, the stream of filth from Sir Bufton Tufton would make a docker wince!

"Come on Eddery....whip it....WHIP IT YOU WHORE!! WHIP THAT CUNT!! [rising to a crescendo} FUCKING WHIP IT EDDERY YOU CUNTING MOTHERFUCK!! CUNT...C-C-C-C- C...MOTHERFUCK...WHIP IT YOU WHORE......FUCKING WHIP IT!!!"

Returning to planet Earth after the (inevitable) doing of his pieces he'd always go 'That'll win next time out' before sashayying out of the shop.

Anyway, re your post.

Without buttering you up {Punkers disappears for a quick wank} I took from that that here was you and many like you, enjoying a harmless, probably well-thought-through bet and yet we are consistently asked to focus on the .5% of 'problem gamblers' (and any media representation of gambling is always through the prism of 'problem gambling'. Alway and without exception).

Even this thread, when not driven down the 'mewling love of being controlled' cul-de-sac by Student Grant (aka The Child Harold), focuses on the tiny minority for who punting is a problem.

[camberwell gypsy]

14 hours ago, Last Cunt Standing said:

I used to like a tenner or two across the counter of my local Independent bookie on a Friday lunchtime as it seemed like quite a manly pursuit, scrawling on a bit of paper with a stubby blue biro which worked sporadically, while the TV blared out the dog racing from Walthamstow. It reminded me of my old man. It also gave me chance to catch up with some of my older patients, blokes with early dementia mostly, who either got dumped in the man crèche by their wives off to Bingo, or the more sad single fellas who huddled for warmth and a chat about Thatcher being an unfuckable cunt. There was always a postman in uniform peering at the Racing Post pinned to the wall. The shop was small, dimly lit, and had one of those plastic strip fly screens on the door. The bookie knew all the regulars personally, made them tea and coffee, and told them to fuck off home when they’d hit their limits. During the ‘84 strike the bookie, himself a former miner who’d lost a leg, shut up shop and went on holiday to France for 8 months telling me he could not in good conscience take bets from people with no money. 

Things went wrong for gambling when they went corporate, started advertising and pushing the prospect of easy winnings on people. The feeble started viewing it as an alternate lifestyle. The internet and clicking numbers made it unreal, rather than handing over cash. Spotty youths who work in McDonalds doing £100 spread bets on Moldovan tennis isn’t about the sport any more. I knew patients who lost tens of thousands. That Denise Coates bitch should be in jail. Course it’s all dressed up with “Gamble responsibly” bollocks, but I’m afraid the genie is out of the bottle. 

Interesting timing from the Gambling Commission is all I’d say. Almost like they know tough times are coming. 

I remember my dad and granddad in there Saturday afternoons. Fly strip over the door, so much smoke that you could probably get lung cancer just breathing it in and the little wooden radios on the wall. My aunt used to do the settling and write the odds on a raised platform along one side of the shop. I used to stand outside not daring to put a foot over the threshold. It used to be full of blokes wearing trilby hats and, being London, 50% of the punters West Indian. 

How many times I saw my old man and granddad ripping up their betting slips and muttering "useless bastard". 

[camberwell gypsy]

13 minutes ago, Jiggerycock said:

Quick betting shop story.

Back when I used to frequent bookies (or 'Turf Accountants' as they branded themselves) and lived in a rough part of Liverpool, there was this incongrous old gentleman who used to pop in to Stanleys (long since swallowed up by Ladbrokes I think). Incongrous because he spoke with a cut glass accent and was always dressed in Crombie, brogues, shirt and tie - proper 'Toff in Toxteth'

Anyway, he'd place his bet and watch the race and mother of God the language!

In a location where effing and jeffing was very much the order of the day, the stream of filth from Sir Bufton Tufton would make a docker wince!

"Come on Eddery....whip it....WHIP IT YOU WHORE!! WHIP THAT CUNT!! [rising to a crescendo} FUCKING WHIP IT EDDERY YOU CUNTING MOTHERFUCK!! CUNT...C-C-C-C- C...MOTHERFUCK...WHIP IT YOU WHORE......FUCKING WHIP IT!!!"

Returning to planet Earth after the (inevitable) doing of his pieces he'd always go 'That'll winn next time out' before sashayying out of the shop.

Anyway, re your post.

Without buttering you up {Punkers disappears for a quick wank} I took from that that here was you and many like you, enjoying a harmless, probably well-thought-through bet and yet we are consistently asked to focus on the .5% of 'problem gamblers' (and any media representation of gambling is always through the prism of 'problem gambling'. Alway and without exception).

Even this thread, when not driven down the mewling love of being controlled cul-de-sac by Student Grant, focuses on the tiny minority for who punting is a problem.

You sure he wasn't the lead singer of Devo? 

[cuntspotter]

14 hours ago, King Billy said:

Did you ride home on your bike and have Hovis for tea? FFS.

I did.

[ChildeHarold]

All governments are stakeholders in the addiction industry. They can't be trusted to regulate any of it while they are making money. Something had to replace the lost revenue from tobacco. I think the liberalisation of all forms of gambling under New Labour was a bad move. The argument that the National Lottery raises money for "good causes" is shite. Cultural spending in Europe is maintained through private charity (from the wealthy) and state spending (through progressive taxation) not a regressive tax on the poor which is what the Lottery basically is. It is hardly surprising that step outside Central and West London we have some of the most run down and derelict public spaces and cultural deserts in the West. 

[Neil]

Bloke I used to know loved a bet and he was a millionaire........problem being the cunt used to be a billionaire.

[Jiggerycock]

2 hours ago, ChildeHarold said:

All governments are stakeholders in the addiction industry. They can't be trusted to regulate any of it while they are making money. Something had to replace the lost revenue from tobacco. I think the liberalisation of all forms of gambling under New Labour was a bad move. The argument that the National Lottery raises money for "good causes" is shite. Cultural spending in Europe is maintained through private charity (from the wealthy) and state spending (through progressive taxation) not a regressive tax on the poor which is what the Lottery basically is. It is hardly surprising that step outside Central and West London we have some of the most run down and derelict public spaces and cultural deserts in the West. 

Course you do you, you fucking control freak!

As usual the rest of your post is emotive bollocks, straight from the 'Identitarian's Guide to Modern Life' (Colouring In Version)