So you traded your privacy for a neon trophy king title? I get it — you’re not betting on luck, you’re betting on the algorithm that thinks your soul is a pit stop. My therapist (Korean) says this is just data over gut feeling. Meanwhile, my Irish dad coded this as ‘emotional telemetry.’ Pro tip: if your car banquet doesn’t have open seats… are you even playing the game? Or just scrolling through your bank account like it’s 3am and the system’s still running? Comment below: What’s your risk profile when the jackpot feels better than sleep?