I dislike poker again.
What a stupid, stupid, lucky game. I've started lumping it along with fantasy football in the "inane pastimes" section of my life. The only pursuit I have right now that has anything resembling a consistent payout is beer, and that's only because I haven't produced an infected batch in the year I've been homebrewing, and it makes me all smiley and drunk. Now that I've said it, though, the infected wort is coming. I'm sure of it.
I feel like Iggy when I say that I sit down in front of the computer and want to write an uber epic blog post(possibly tonight, I swear. This time for real!), a post for the ages, and then...squadoosh. Nothing. The only reason I want to write between now and December 11th is that hopefully, by some miracle, my one advertiser will renew and I'll have an extra few clams in my pocket for Vegas. That would be nice. But, I'm not holding my breath on that one.
Speaking of Vegas, my only plan is to hit YardHouse (down by the airport) for happy hour on Friday from 3-6pm. Please won't you join me? So many beers that I haven't tried that I'm getting a little bit moist just thinking about it. That reminds me--must turn down thermostat in office.
Other than that, I have no real plans. I also don't have a poker bankroll, so sitting down at the MGM, or may God have mercy on our souls, the IP of all places, probably won't be happening. I suppose that also works well with my goal of not returning home with the Cold of Death, "Vegas Pneumonia", this trip. I can chalk that up as a win.
What else, what else. Oh!
The best thing I can say about Tuesday being over and done with, is the lack of tv commercials bashing an opponent. Thank god, because I'm a moron and almost fell for the ad about the time Franken ripped the head off a baby and drop-kicked the torso through the uprights at the Metrodome, resulting in a buzzer to go off, the crowd to go wild, and Abe Vigoda to finally die. A smart man knows that Abe Vigoda will never die.
The one that really got to me is the ad about Coleman starring in a Czech DVDA video, as the starlet. I mean, come on--how is that even possible?! His accent is not even close to eastern European, for fuck's sake!
What a stupid, stupid, lucky game. I've started lumping it along with fantasy football in the "inane pastimes" section of my life. The only pursuit I have right now that has anything resembling a consistent payout is beer, and that's only because I haven't produced an infected batch in the year I've been homebrewing, and it makes me all smiley and drunk. Now that I've said it, though, the infected wort is coming. I'm sure of it.
I feel like Iggy when I say that I sit down in front of the computer and want to write an uber epic blog post(possibly tonight, I swear. This time for real!), a post for the ages, and then...squadoosh. Nothing. The only reason I want to write between now and December 11th is that hopefully, by some miracle, my one advertiser will renew and I'll have an extra few clams in my pocket for Vegas. That would be nice. But, I'm not holding my breath on that one.
Speaking of Vegas, my only plan is to hit YardHouse (down by the airport) for happy hour on Friday from 3-6pm. Please won't you join me? So many beers that I haven't tried that I'm getting a little bit moist just thinking about it. That reminds me--must turn down thermostat in office.
Other than that, I have no real plans. I also don't have a poker bankroll, so sitting down at the MGM, or may God have mercy on our souls, the IP of all places, probably won't be happening. I suppose that also works well with my goal of not returning home with the Cold of Death, "Vegas Pneumonia", this trip. I can chalk that up as a win.
What else, what else. Oh!
The best thing I can say about Tuesday being over and done with, is the lack of tv commercials bashing an opponent. Thank god, because I'm a moron and almost fell for the ad about the time Franken ripped the head off a baby and drop-kicked the torso through the uprights at the Metrodome, resulting in a buzzer to go off, the crowd to go wild, and Abe Vigoda to finally die. A smart man knows that Abe Vigoda will never die.
The one that really got to me is the ad about Coleman starring in a Czech DVDA video, as the starlet. I mean, come on--how is that even possible?! His accent is not even close to eastern European, for fuck's sake!
