Since Kyra decided to forgo sleep after waiting until 1:00am to eat, I am feeling a bit zombifyed or zombified, maybe there’s a sci-fi geek out there with proper spelling knowledge. Luckily I lasted long enough in a PartyPoker dollah tourney to pass the time, collecting a whopping $1.88 for my efforts.
Note to dollah tourney enthusiasts:
Stop n’ Go’s don’t work on 99.9% of these single-celled opponents. And for the love of all that is holy MIN-RAISING DRIVES ME MAD. Absinthe had the same sentiments on the girly IRC chat box, wishing death upon these pox of poker society. On my way to the cash last night I saw no less then eight min-raises by various positions:
Three times = Aces
Three times = Ace + Queen/Jack (not AK)
One time = Jacks
One time = 98o
And to the tool who limped in from UTG + 1 with Aces and got six limpers which included the always dangerous SMTL (that’s Snowman Tater-Legs 83o for those who haven’t read the poker blogger dictionary), don’t bitch about bubbling out of the tourney trying to pull this “move”. If six people are in the hand and the board reads 4 5 6 7 K, you may consider making a Hellmuthian lay down when you get MIN-RAISED on the turn after checking the flop.
I put min-raisers quite high on my hate list, right next to women who get shocked when men stare at them while wearing reveling clothing, and people who think its super-cool to change lanes while private room text chatting with Mammoth Missy on their Treo with Bluetooth at Melonballers.com (only $1.75 a min for first time perverts!) without actually seeing my sister’s shiny green Chevy Cavalier in the other lane.
Mexician Police Groom: YOU GO TO HELL!
Curly Bill: You first [caps his ass]
- Tombstone (1993)
I’m going back to fending off the zzzzzzzzzzzz’s and impure thoughts of a nude Lindsay Lohan in my hot tub asking why I haven’t joined her yet.
Can you tell its been awhile?
I’m usually like this? Oh, nevermind then.
As we were leaving the hospital last Tuesday the doctor’s “post-pregnancy release health guide” proclaims the wife needs 5 weeks of “pelvic rest”. I assume that’s Christian doctor-speak for “no banging the wife”. At least the internet is kind enough to display various female forms for um… modeling?
My bottle of peppermint lotion should last at least those five weeks.
Thanks for dropping by, now if you haven’t signed up for the blogger tourney on Saturday through PSO, well you suck.
And if you haven’t signed up for the next WPBT event (hit the link for details), you just might be a redneck.
Final note to any one that watched Sportscenter this morning and saw the Peter Gammon’s bit that posed this whopper of a “fact or fiction” question:
“Did Russ Springer try to plunk Barry Bonds”
Are you kidding me? When a ball goes behind you, then near misses your back heel, two more almost hitting the nub of the bat, THEN getting hit in the back. Captain Obvious just had a stroke from laughing too hard at good old Pete there. It was about as obvious as to what Springer was trying to accomplish as watching the slick haired Italian stallion showing up at the doorstep of the desperate housewife and suddenly “chicka-chicka beep beep a-mow mow” music starts in the background.
“Wanna play some gin rummy?” asks the Italian stallion as she bends over seductively to turn off the “Maury” episode that feature the chick who after 17 tries can’t figure out who’s sperm did its duty for her two year old son.
Someone at ESPN was stretching for filler space this morning.