Meredith O’Connor
Name’s Meredith O’Connor. And yeah — I’m the one behind this glorious chaos of no deposit bonuses.
Born July 14th, 1986, in Hastings — one of those New Zealand towns where even seagulls seem bored — I grew up fast. Not because life was hard (though it kinda was), but because I just couldn’t stand being clueless. Fairy tales? Nah. I learned early that the tooth fairy was just Mum’s late-night guilt money.
My first bets weren’t in casinos — they were on common sense
My parents were good people, salt-of-the-earth types. Mum was a primary school teacher at Mahora School, Dad fixed cars in a dusty little garage that’s now a bloody Countdown parking lot. We never had much, but I always had this itch to figure things out. By age seven I was tracking our family expenses in a notebook, calculating what went where and why we were still broke. By eleven, I could explain compound interest and file a basic tax return (no joke — I did Dad’s). At fifteen, I got curious about gambling. Not the “slot machine go brrr” type of gambling, but the psychology of it all. The patterns. The edge. The bullsh*t.
University? Yep. But I wouldn’t brag about it.
I studied at the University of Otago from 2004 to 2008 — marketing, finance, and a bit of sociology thrown in to understand why people keep making the same dumb mistakes. Did it teach me much? Eh, sort of. But the real education came later — working with shady offshore casino platforms and watching how they sweet-talked folks into burning their paychecks.
Some people see the mess and walk away. I saw an opportunity. Not to scam — to fix things. If the game is dirty, make your own table. That’s what I figured.
Merediths wasn’t built to “promote slots.” It was built out of spite.
On January 12th, 2023, I launched Merediths.co.nz. Big day. My coffee machine broke that morning and I almost gave up on life — but instead, I bought the damn domain and started writing. Not to pitch casinos. To filter them. Ruthlessly.
No deposit bonuses? Only from operators that won’t ghost you when you win. Free spins? Only if the terms aren’t wrapped in a 10-page trap. No sugarcoating. No fluff. Just real offers, filtered through my slightly grumpy, caffeine-fueled brain.
I test every platform myself. Read the fine print. Chat with their support teams. Sometimes I even pretend to be a clueless grandma just to see how they treat newbies. It’s not glamorous — it’s work. But someone’s gotta do it. Then I take all that info and wrap it in plain talk. With a little sass, a little sarcasm, and a whole lot of “cut the crap.”
“I don’t believe in luck. I believe in Meredith.”
— Not me. Chris said that. Old mate from Wellington. Hit $480 on one of our free spin deals and called me a “bargain bloodhound in lipstick.” I’ll take it.
From burnout to editing — and back again
These days I’m the editor-in-chief of this circus. Got two folks on my team — one’s a realist, the other’s basically a walking eye-roll. Between the three of us, we keep each other sane. I write the reviews, hunt for new promos, deal with user complaints, and occasionally scream at my screen when some idiot site breaks down mid-test.
Outside of that, I live on strong coffee, ride a vintage Yamaha SR400, and cohabitate with a cat named MicroBonus. He doesn’t believe in luck either. He believes in kibble.
In 2021, I nearly burned down my flat in Dunedin trying to claim a bonus while frying a burrito. Since then, cooking is strictly post-bonus activity.
My writing style? No fluff, no filter.
If you’re looking for shiny promises and fairy-tale wins — wrong address, mate. Merediths is for folks who want the real deal. No filters, no fairy dust. Just solid offers, no-BS reviews, and a woman who’s made peace with both cynicism and spreadsheets.
