Watch this because you have nothing else going on this morning besides filling out TPS reports and your cube-mate stole the last cruller again.
Is it sad that I did not see one movie that was listed at the People's Choice Awards (except "Cars" which I viewed as many times as I've seen my wife's back while climbing into bed)? Did anyone watch Robin Williams get lost inside Queen Latifah's dress while attempting some ill-conceived dry hump? And you thought walking in on your parents was bad.
I quickly changed the channel to Commando to watch the Govenator blow things up, spout some bad one-liners “don’t disturb my friend he’s dead tired” and Alyssa Milano in her days before lesbian flicks and showing off her witch boobies with that chick from 90210. All in the attempt to deflect another ho-hum day at the virtual tables in which I managed to lose a single digit amount and feel assy towards anyone I chatted with.
Hell even Speaker couldn't lighten me up to play in one of my favorite tourneys (HORSE token tourney at Full Tilt). And it’s not the poker causing a foul mood.
This mystery cold/flu bug has cast a germ ridden blanket over our house for the past six weeks and shows no signs of leaving. Sick + Tired = Shorten Patience, which of course leads to the dark side of the force and potentially crappy sequels. Faith I have an abundance of, but I’d be lying if I said my outwards appearance of smiles was genuine right now.
A deflection is set for Friday as my friends are getting together for some good old fashioned donkey poker with wild card games, Guts, Baseball, Maverick, and probably a Texas Hold Em’ tourney to appease Jay’s appetite for the game. No wheelchair rides will be necessary but I’ll hoist a few Cap’n Cokes in search of having a good time.
And please if you chat with me this week; tell me to put a goddamn stitch in it. I hate being a sourpuss while being around friends. Veneno... Thursday night will work :)
Thanks for dropping by, now if you haven’t been reading the REAL PokerStars Caribbean Adventure blog by Mrs. Otis (one more mention of “Otis is a hunk of Man Candy” and I think I’ll have to refrain from drinking around him during the next blogger meet). Check out her lushing it up with a couple of Brits and regretting the hangover the next day.
But, if you want the fruits of labor from this Adonis with a goatee… the WPT final table is set.