Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Dearest Captial One

An open letter to Capital One:

Dearest Sir’s, Ma’am’s, and dipshit credit computers:

Two years ago my life was changed forever.

After nearly seven long months worth of seeing my wife nurse our son into becoming a social security number, we would name him Wyatt. Today we cherish his affection for hot dogs and Thomas the Tank Engine products. His laughter immediately brightens my day even if the short bus riders on PartyPoker line up in a row to place a steel toed boot to my lower regions with bad beats.

It seems like only yesterday he was burping up some nasty Gerber’s apple/pear/plum mix that only a baby or bong lover could enjoy. Last week he made a turkey out of a paper bag, some glued on feathers (colored by crayons), and stuffed it with cotton so it was nice and fluffy! Yesterday, he told me all about the “icky bug” that was crawling along the carpeting in our basement and helped me capture it. Pretty smart kid, eh?

I know you took these things into consideration when you mailed him not one but TWO $2,000 pre-approved credit lines through your credit card division. Do you think you could bump it to $4,000 if I told you about his wicked slap shot with the mini-hockey sticks I gave him? How about we go for an even ten grand if I relayed the story about his ability to make 24 different animal noises, just by saying the name of animal! WOW!

I am not sure what angle your company is trying to shoot when offering him credit since he is currently unemployed, and his educational background consist of Little Einstein movies and Clifford the Big Red Dog pop up books.

In the future it may be your best interest to narrow your marketing for credit applicants to giving out free pens to college students and elderly folks at the state fair, and sponsoring everything related to football.

Please cease and desist all mailings to Wyatt immediately, or I will be forced to spam your company with cute pictures and adorable kid stories until the headset melts off every one of your customer service representatives in your call center.



God bless our backward ass credit system.


I took a relaxed approach to the game last night, in playing a few orbits of limit O8 with SirWaffle while finishing up a PokerStars reload bonus. Wow, I had forgotten how bad low limit O8 players are. Trying to put them on a hand was like trying to solve Beal’s Conjecture with a county fair yard stick and a healthy dose of LSD. I think I finished a couple of BBs down but it was definitely eye opening to watch the horrible play. If you’ve stayed away from PokerStars in the past because the players are better… its safe to swim in this waters again, 30 minutes after eating of course.

Then I tried hoping on Full Tilt to tame my Razz cravings for the week, and G-Rob was at the table discussing the current situation in France with a intellectual political science major railbird. I think the word Xenophobe came out a few times. But after a few orbits my screen would freeze up, my chip stack would waver depending on if I held cards or not, and I got timed out on a big hand where I held 4 to a wheel. Not excited about that. But, I’ll let it slide if someone from the Tilt team could assure me there was some technical issues last night, or if it’s detrimental to have three videos of cheerleader porn going at the same time as playing.


I just got word that Burnsie wants to go on a Midnight Run for his birthday on Thursday. This brings flashbacks of Calculus class, blue balls, bad skin, and pitching for the Osseo Orioles. “A Midnight Run”, was our slang for heading to the casino at ten at night and maybe getting back in time to go to class the next day. Hey, the breakfast at Grand Casino Mille Lacs was worth missing Deutsche class for. Ich liebe deutsche Lektionen! In reality I didn't care much for German class due to the spray bottle the teacher would use if you tried to catch a cat nap in her class. Gambling is hard work, I need sleep!

Of course we’re both responsible parents now and would never stay too long or hit up our credit cards for cash advances when the stupid dealer pulls a six card 21 after splitting sevens and getting 20 on each. Nor would we drink too much, so we’d be forced to wait for the 5am breakfast special to sober up. Naw, would never happen :) I'm hoping he's up for going to Canterbury, I'd love to get in some live poker before swimming in the fishy waters of the bloggers mixed game.

Thanks for dropping by, now what’s in YOUR wallet? Take out that damn condom already, you're not going to get laid! Sheesh!

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