I hear there's this big month-long "tournament" in some place in the desert, where the participants play a game with cards, called poker, with "chips" in place of money. It all sounds entirely fictional and also made up, but boy I do likes me some potato chips, so I'm inclined to believe it if the chips are of the kettle variety. Mmmm, mmmmboy.
It's tough to get excited about the WSOP since I've not been playing any poker for the last few months. It's great that many of the people that I've considered friends over the past few years, (even if they are of the crazy internet kind), are out in Vegas right now, whooping it up, having a blast, and catching feline AIDS from all the stuff floating around a nice chip stack. Now that I think about it, poker is a filthy, disgusting game. Yuck-o. But good for them!
The past few months I haven't really had the time, the money, or the desire to play poker of any kind. I've been spending a lot of time in planning the move in with the girlfriend, and that move just happened last weekend. Word of advice--if the only help you can find to move a behemoth of a couch with double recliners in it is two non weightlifting girls, it's better that you just try to sell the damn thing on Craigslist, because if you don't, you're surely going to wedge the fucking thing in the doorway of your old apartment, and spend well over an hour stumped on just how you're going to get it out without a chainsaw, Sawzall or a backpack full of dynamite. I chose a chainsaw full of dynamite.
Now that it's done, though, I should have plenty of time to sit behind, and curse at, my computer, while invisible idiots half way around the world do stupid things that defy logic. I might even play some poker, too! I may have to wait until my arms work correctly again first. I walked out of Costco with a 6.5lb bag of chicken and a case of Gatorade Rain today, which can't weigh more than 15lbs at most. At one point I thought I was going to lose both of my arms, that's how bad they ached, but I perservered when I realized that the BangBus would mean nothing to me after that. I'm a trooper, if nothing else.
If, in fact, I do start playing poker again, you may see in increase in postings, perhaps as much as one time a week. I don't want to go balls-out and give you too much of my wicked, wicked blog posting, don'tchyaknow. You can be sure that I'll be posting a lot of mis-formatted hand histories, where nothing lines up and they have that cool white text that builds suspense, saucy tidbits about the bad grandmas of poker, gross misuse of vocabulary and punctuation, flagrant disregard for anything and everything grammar related, and superfluous use of the word "fucking".
Who are you to resist it?
It's tough to get excited about the WSOP since I've not been playing any poker for the last few months. It's great that many of the people that I've considered friends over the past few years, (even if they are of the crazy internet kind), are out in Vegas right now, whooping it up, having a blast, and catching feline AIDS from all the stuff floating around a nice chip stack. Now that I think about it, poker is a filthy, disgusting game. Yuck-o. But good for them!
The past few months I haven't really had the time, the money, or the desire to play poker of any kind. I've been spending a lot of time in planning the move in with the girlfriend, and that move just happened last weekend. Word of advice--if the only help you can find to move a behemoth of a couch with double recliners in it is two non weightlifting girls, it's better that you just try to sell the damn thing on Craigslist, because if you don't, you're surely going to wedge the fucking thing in the doorway of your old apartment, and spend well over an hour stumped on just how you're going to get it out without a chainsaw, Sawzall or a backpack full of dynamite. I chose a chainsaw full of dynamite.
Now that it's done, though, I should have plenty of time to sit behind, and curse at, my computer, while invisible idiots half way around the world do stupid things that defy logic. I might even play some poker, too! I may have to wait until my arms work correctly again first. I walked out of Costco with a 6.5lb bag of chicken and a case of Gatorade Rain today, which can't weigh more than 15lbs at most. At one point I thought I was going to lose both of my arms, that's how bad they ached, but I perservered when I realized that the BangBus would mean nothing to me after that. I'm a trooper, if nothing else.
If, in fact, I do start playing poker again, you may see in increase in postings, perhaps as much as one time a week. I don't want to go balls-out and give you too much of my wicked, wicked blog posting, don'tchyaknow. You can be sure that I'll be posting a lot of mis-formatted hand histories, where nothing lines up and they have that cool white text that builds suspense, saucy tidbits about the bad grandmas of poker, gross misuse of vocabulary and punctuation, flagrant disregard for anything and everything grammar related, and superfluous use of the word "fucking".
Who are you to resist it?
1 Comments:
+1 for well-placed usage of Bang Bus.
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