Hey. Just Fido. Real name’s Fidorio, but honestly? Everyone’s called me Fido since forever – leftover from when I was obsessed with dogs as a kid. Born 38 years back, May 15th, right in the messy heart of Buenos Aires on this wild colorful street called Caminito.
My Roots: Continental Mashup
My blood’s this crazy cocktail:
- Mom, Isabel: Pure Argentine fire. Tango singer who taught me dancing’s basically body-conversation. Passed down that beautiful Argentine sadness too.
- Dad, Ricardo: Brazilian ex-ball wizard. His whole world? Football, smoky BBQ, and yeah… bets. Gave me that chill “go with the flow” vibe.
- Granny Ana (Peru): Quiet powerhouse. Knew mountain secrets like nobody’s business. Gave me this little thing called “Shaman’s Eye” – still got it.
- Grandpa Carlos (Chile): Salt-crusted sailor type. Taught me cards, proper rum appreciation, and lit my wanderlust fuse with insane sea stories.
Kid Stuff: Lisbon & Teenage Years
We bounced to Europe when I was 5. Long story short? Dad played cards wrong with wrong people. Landed in Lisbon’s Alfama – all narrow streets and fado music.
My whole childhood smelled like our family spot “Sabores del Sur” – smoky meats, Brazilian stews, zingy ceviche. Place is barely hanging on now… kills me a little.
School? They dubbed me “Human Calculator” – numbers just clicked, history put me to sleep. Spoke Spanish at home, Portuguese outside, picked up English from action flicks. Die Hard taught me more than any textbook.
First gambling? Street games mostly. Marbles, this card game Sueca, betting my last pastry. First win? Soccer ball at 10 by out-mathing everyone. First crush? Redhead Lucia. Wrote terrible poems, blew all my cash trying to win her a stuffed bear. She moved. Story of my life.
Uni & That Heartbreak
Went for economics – parents’ idea. But my brain lived elsewhere: online poker, stats, early slots. “Calculadora Humana” nickname stuck harder than gum.
Then… Alessia. Italian exchange student. Dark hair, killer green eyes. Fell stupid hard. Learned Italian in 3 months? Did it. Wrote “Mia Cara” letters? Yep. Spent winnings on her? Every cent. Bought a silver ring with turquoise after winning €15k poker – thought it matched her eyes.
Got wrecked May ’07. Walked in on her with some hotel trust fund kid. Her words? “Your card tricks? Cute pocket money. He’s actual future. You’re… temporary fun.” Ring went in the river. Failed exams, drowned in bottom-shelf tequila. Trust women? Yeah… still working on that.
Becoming a Nomad
June 2010, econ degree collecting dust, dropped the bomb at dinner: “Not gonna crunch numbers in some office. I play slots. That’s my math.” Cue family meltdown. Only Granny Ana got it: “Go. But remember the Eye.” Grabbed:
- My beat-up laptop
- Last €2000 to my name
- Bottle of Jose Cuervo
- Cheesy Mexican sombrero (€50 tourist trap special)
- That Shaman’s Eye pouch
First tequila shot at Lisbon airport? Burned like hellfire. Cleansed. Flew to Istanbul. Game on.
My Circus Now: Slots, Travel & Ramblings
Whole damn planet’s my cubicle. Budget flights, sketchy hostels, cafes with questionable Wi-Fi. My survival kit:
- Laptop (now a sticker-bombed MacBook)
- Giant power bank
- Universal plug – lifesaver
I don’t just play slots – I outthink them. Luck? Overrated. My playbook:
- “Slots? It’s tango with Lady Luck. Feel the reel rhythm, memorize the steps, lead the damn dance.”
- Bankroll discipline? Non-negotiable. 1% per spin max.
- Obsess over RTP, volatility, bonus mechanics – the boring stuff wins.
- Go-tos: “Starburst” (first big score), “Book of Dead”, “Gates of Olympus”, “Sweet Bonanza” (sweet torture!)
April 2018, after winning €42k on “Starburst” and rescuing some Americans from loan sharks, launched FidoSlots.com. My therapy couch. Where I dump:
- Travel disasters (chasing Wi-Fi with Mongolian goats? Been there.)
- No-fluff slot guides
- Raw win/loss diaries
- Stories – sarcastic, messy, painfully real. Like yours truly.
Life motto? “Slots pay rent, adventures keep me sane, tequila fuels the engine, women? Glitchy bonus rounds. Life’s the wildest slot machine.”
Right This Second? July 2025.
Just scooped €1200 on “Gates of Olympus”. Huddled in some Vietnamese shack, sipping tar-thick coffee. Feel completely drained. Guilt, anger, blues all crashing in. But the reels keep whispering. Time to spin again.
My anchor line: “Life’s the most unpredictable slot. Just pull the damn lever already.”
– Fido.