Bit of a double standard when it comes to making a 50x return on your money. When it’s an old high school acquaintance sliding into your messenger you’d tell him to eat shit and die but when it’s with a betting agency it’s a “sure thing”. Despite your last 50 failed multis painting a contrary picture.

In the mind of the mutlibet enthusiast, you can’t be judged on your long history of losing. No, you can only be judged on that time in 2019 when you made $2500 bucks off a $50 stake on Arsenal to win 2-0, Josh Kennedy to kick 5, Fyfe to get 40 possessions, a Romanian table tennis game and of course, a greyhound you reckon runs good in the wet.

It’s practically free money. After all, what ulterior motive would a betting agency have to entice your punt-rod into the moist, inviting crevice of juicy odds? Haven’t you seen all the ladsy memes they pump out?

They are pretty much just your mate. In no way are they are an advanced mathematical monster that’s better at separating suckers from their money than OnlyFans.

So, if past betting history isn’t the answer, what gives the multi enthusiast the edge over carefully calculated odds? 5 pints of course. As soon as that sweet nectar touches their lips they are suddenly rocking a beautiful mind that would make Russel Crowe want to give their head a good phoning.

One can be excused for rocking a shit-eating grin of Shkreli proportions while getting drawn into a phone trance at the pub. Little does everyone know, you are seeing things CLEARLY now. All the ducks are lining up in a row and you’re not going to miss rent this week.

Once the mutli masterpiece has been painted on the ceiling of your delusional chapel it’s time to start chipping away at those pesky social relationships that you’re burdened with.

Nothing makes you feel like you’ve had eunuch at a suckfest more than striking out on the first leg of your multi. You may find your face morphing to resemble something that would eat its own young.

You may find yourself wanting to glass your best friends of 30 years. You may throw your toys out of the cot and tell everyone you’re going home.

This could spell the end of your weekend if your good mate, the betting agency, didn’t swing ya a free bet. After all, true mates tell you to chase your loses. Then you’re back in the game, baby.

If you win a few legs there situation is different however. With each successful leg you’ll increasingly make strangers uncomfortable with your euphoric high.

You may even start spending your winnings before you’ve indeed won them. A classic mistake. However, you’ve smoked a big shard of mult-amphetamine, smashed 12 pints and told the old mate who smells like a Pilbara urinal that you love him. It’s possible you’re not thinking clearly.

If you’re fortunate enough to make it to the last leg of your multi, your intensity will be at peak levels. At this stage you give yourself permission to ruin everyone else’s experience by verbally abusing the television screen.

Most don’t know but the louder your scream the more likely West Coast will concede 2 goals in the final minute to ensure your margin bet gets up and your partner won’t call you a loser (again).

At this fork in the road you either win and buy a bag or you lose and enter the abyss. A familiar, dark friend of yours. A surreal blackhole of disbelief where you wonder how it was possible to lose a 50:1 bet. Why didn’t you cash out for $1.5k. Why are you like this?

Ah well, just get on the blower to borrow some money for your life responsibilities and remind yourself that Nimble loans and losing parental respect is just all part of the punt.

Documenting the Human Zoo is hard work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a mutli, ay?

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