Lucky Ass stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the screen before him. His eyes darted back and forth between the precise measurements of the curvature of the buttocks on his screen and the live stream of the NHL games. His mind worked at lightning speed, analyzing every angle, every line, every curve. He was in a trance-like state, his entire being focused on the pursuit of perfection.
Meanwhile, the crowd in the sports bar around him grew restless. They hooted and hollered, cheering on their favorite teams. Some leaned in closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen Lucky Ass was studying so intently. Others stood back, shaking their heads in disbelief at the sheer dedication he was displaying.
Lucky Ass’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as he saw the perfect combination of curves and angles on the screen. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he made his final decision. “Alright, folks,” he announced, his voice ringing clear and confident through the bar. “I’ve got some winning NHL betting selections for you tonight. First up, the Minnesota Wild are ice-cold with a new coach and have gone 1-10 the last 11 times they have played vs. the Nashville Predators in Nashville. The Predators have won 6 straight! Bet on the Predators – 120 to win and win big money!“
As he finished his proclamation, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at the screen, admiring the perfection that was Naomi Russell ‘s perfect ass. A small blush crept up his neck, but he quickly composed himself. He knew that his secret obsession with Jewish asses, born out of a fear of anti-Semitism, was something he had to keep hidden from the world. It was a shame, really, that such a beautiful thing had to be tainted by bigotry. But for now, he had to focus on the game. And with his winning NHL betting selections, Lucky Ass was sure that his fans would soon forget about his secret fixation.
In the next matchup, the Buffalo Sabres were 2-13 in the last 15 meetings in St. Louis. The Blues, on the other hand, were 4-1 in their last 5 after scoring 2 goals or less in their previous game. They were also 5-2 in their last 7 home games. “Folks, this one’s a no-brainer,” Lucky Ass announced, his voice still strong and confident. “Take the St. Louis Blues to win at home -120 and win lots of money!“
The crowd gasped in surprise. Even the bartender, who had been listening in on Lucky Ass’s private thoughts for years, couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath.
As the games continued, Lucky Ass found himself growing more and more animated. He spoke with an uncharacteristic passion about the curvature of Naomi Russell ‘s buttocks, the shape of her great ass, the way her skin folded and bunched when she sat down. He spoke of it as though it were a work of art, a masterpiece that deserved to be celebrated and worshiped.
The crowd, at first confused and then amused, began to laugh and cheer. They couldn’t help but be drawn in by Lucky Ass’s infectious enthusiasm. They applauded his insights, even when they had nothing to do with the actual games on the screen. It was clear that this night would be unlike any other in the history of the sports bar.
Finally, as the final buzzer sounded and the dust began to settle, Lucky Ass stood before the crowd, his chest heaving with emotion. “And there you have it, folks,” he said, his voice trembling with pride. “The secret is out. I am Lucky Ass, and I am in love with Jewish asses. But don’t let that distract you from the fact that I am still the best damn NHL handicapper this side of the Mississippi.”
With that, he turned and walked off the stage, leaving the crowd to ponder the revelation. Some shook their heads in disbelief, while others clapped him on the back and congratulated him for his honesty. But regardless of their reactions, one thing was certain: Lucky Ass had finally found the courage to embrace his true self, and the world of sports betting would never be the same.