Bacon: The New Tylenol

Get Sick.

Play up a blind level for an hour after reading: Waffle's Guide To Bankroll Management Vol. 5 "When In Doubt, Double It Up".

Win back all losses over the past week.

Eat an egg and bacon sammich.

Sleep in fatty Nyquil induced bliss for 15 hours after missing work.

The poker hasn't given me that extra inch of erection lately, but the games at Full Tilt have been very good so if I want to see Al's barstool at the new bar in September, a grinding I must go. Or at least have a draw or two come in :)

I pimped this on my poker site, but if you haven't heard about the return of "Saturdays With Dr. Pauly", I suggest using the link to the PLO tourney happening at 4:20pm at Stars.

Bring your "A" game, and two drink (or toke if you're into that sort of thing) minimum to the tables for some laid back four card bingo.

Geriatric Tough

My day is complete.

The New Kids on the Block are back baby!! WHOO WHOO!!!

Feel free to enjoy the rest of your day but only if you thought Joey was the cutest.

Navel gazing will continue in the future because that's what I use this space of internet for. That and to bitch about being hooked to the mistress of Omaha and her bitchy yet sultry cousin Variance. But its the chase, not the act that is the fun part.

Bodog and Blogger Skillz tourneys tonight for those who wish to start a flame war on your fellow low rolling internet scribes. No word on if I'll go for two in a row as the little ones have tried to pawn off as many germs as possible to their dad and I'm left sucking down a Nyquil/Vitamin Water cocktail to remain in the upright position today.

The Brick Wall (part 1)

Each day was non-descript, sitting with a back to the elementary school’s brick wall staring down at the patchy yard with a mix of grass, weeds, and an occasional ant hill. Noise surrounded the child but he couldn’t differentiate the sounds of the makeshift football game being played near the long strip of land along the baseball fields or the girls lining up near the sizable playground pointing, laughing. Instead of trying to make conversation or offer a pair of fast legs and sure hands for the football game, he sat not knowing whether to chance getting blank stares from the wonderment of this lanky kid trying to fit in.

They knew he was different, that’s all that mattered. Words did not come out with a rolling Minnesotan accent but rather choppy and sometimes pronounce differently then found in a Webster’s dictionary. If you tried to say hi from behind he would ignore you instead of realizing the dark brown haired kid with the powder blue H and D Video baseball jersey couldn’t hear. Sure those strange adults from the Special Ed room came into the class once in a while between spelling and math lessons to educate them on how to deal with the shy kid in the front of the class.

Deal. Embarrass. Class Pet. Target.

Teachers would wear hearing devices around their necks and play tapes of muffled sounds and invite the classmates to visit his cave, his disability, and his attempts to fit in. But all it did was paint the target in fluorescent yellow and drive his back further into that brick wall. Many recess periods were spent feeling empty and counting down the minutes to being able to hop that last ball field fence to his house which lay adjacent and within eye sight of the school.

Home. Warm. Caring. Understanding.

Home was getting scrambled eggs with Bacos and Mickey Mouse shaped waffles with melted chocolate chips. Not this place of learning that twisted his very existence into some Quasimodo to be poked at until he finally gave up on seeking friendship and sunk into books and any kind of athletic competition that didn’t require a second participant. Sure after school when he took the hill on the baseball teams or one-timed a game winning goal while on the ice, the temporary friendships were as strong as Britney Spears’ grip on reality. Never invited back to someone’s house for some Atari 2600 action or thumbing through a secret copy of Playboy that someone found in dad’s underwear drawer.

Some people played sports for the thrill of victory or to get in shape. He played so he could feel like he belonged even it was only for three periods or nine innings. Almost like a barfly saddling up to his seat for a night of conversation at the cost of the beer, he would strap on the shin pads and helmet for a night away from the insults, the hurt. Sure, his supposed aloofness didn’t allow him to fully enjoy sports, there were embarrassing moment when a coach’s direction caught nothing but air, but it was more comforting then that school yard brick wall. (to be continued)

Pai Gow Bonus!

Play Pai Gow for an iPod touch?

Get the details at Bodog... come to think of it, I think I finally have some money there :)

Sleep Is For the Weak

I promised literature this morning. A short story of childhood memories through the memory of a jaded adult that can't stand his reflection in a mirror and throws a couple prayers at whatever deities are out there daily, that his kids do not have to go through life with similar handicaps.



Instead you get a poker blog brag post because due to not thinking of potential slept deprivation of entering a 9:30pm tourney (THANK YOU GUITAR HERO GEEK!). At 2:30am I finally closed down my date with Lee Watkinson at the final table of the nightly Limit Omaha 8 token tourney.




I fought, but came up short in 7th when Lee paid off the Full Tilt RNG (not true) to hit a full house versus the crap low cards I was forced to push with. My applause to Lee for answering questions and being a great representative of the site despite not giving me his bust out t-shirt.

Data Entry and TPS reports today? Yes, please.

Edit: Moment of Truth on Fox... any prop bets on how many contestants before the first wife/husband walks off the stage? Time in between questions needs to be sliced, much like American Gladators, show the guts, go light on the jibber-jabber.

I Hit It Bodoggie Style For the Win

I was ready to put out some good non-poker content (if I've ever done so without hating on the asshole who doesn't sweep the snow off their car and you're driving directly behind them while getting pelted like a white guy telling racist jokes at the Apollo). I even lost the lock bets with CK and Bayne (gg sirs and ma'ams) while bombing out of the blogger O8 game.


But my story of the lost child will have to wait until I get some sufficient rest or that handle of Cap'n calls my name as the itchy balls need to be tamed by something other then a frozen medley of peas, corn, diced carrots, and Vicodin.





Got some cards early, stole late, got my money in good heads up while down 3 or 4 to 1.

That hot chocolate better be strong tomorrow.

Blogger-trotting Across the US

Let the Super Bowl hype begin. Brady hurt?? Thanks to the media for trying to lower the line to single digits!!

For fans of the oblong pigskin, what’s more annoying:

- The length of time between the end of the college football season and the BCS bowl games.

- The length of time between the NFC/AFC Conference Championships and Super Bowl

Can’t they have the 3rd place game this week between Green Bay and the Super Chargers awarding the Marty Schottenheimer award to the winner?

I just took a look at my itinerary for the year and by far this is the most I’ll be away from the glacial ice caps of Minnesota:

- February: Southern Texas with the wife and two other couples: I’ve explained to April that this trip better not suck or I will hold her responsible for no other reason then being a resident of this rather large state. Any suggestions out there for the McAllen/South Padre part of Texas for fun?

- March (on the fence): Vegas. Sportsbook. Good cigars. College basketball. Wheelchair possibilities. With the stupidity I’ve been viewing at the PL/NLO8 tables I might get the funding necessary for a quick weekend of liver punishment.

- June: Charleston/Isle of Palms/G-Vegas: Family reunion with nearly 40 other pale skinned Minnesotans and two relocated family members in South Carolina. Still checking to see if a side trip to G-Vegas for a day to take the rest of BadBlood’s bankroll is possible since the kids will want ice cream at the beach. Might imbibe a dirty martini for the first time if provoked or otherwise impaired. Definitely going carry my 30+ handicap onto the golf courses, and take down the nightly beer pong games with my college aged cousins.

- July: Gentile Summit 2008: I am BoxerChamp. Even A-listers like Joaquin can’t contend with my softball swing technique.

- September: The Bash: Again dependent on poker. I'm looking at you Mr. Full Tilt Random Number Generator!!!

- December: I’ll see you all again around my birthday in Vegas (I hope there’s like someone who doesn’t mind herding cats again and the IP sportsbook hasn’t been demolished by NFL mid-season).

Here’s to the Omatards at Full Tilt banking my frequent flyer miles for the year because my $7.54 an hour flipping Whoppers isn’t going to get me further then Hudson, Wisconsin. One such player as offered another last longer in this evening’s Blogger Skill Series game of Omaha 8 or better. She likes funding my blogger tourney addiction. For that I thank you CK. When you transfer the money, remember my avatar is the busty nurse, much appreciated.

No Titletown, No Cry

Farve throws a wounded duck and the stadium’s blood alcohol level zooms pass drunk into blackout stage. Half the stadium wearing deer/duck hunting gear immediately yelled for their dog to fetch after the football left Farve’s hand then went to back to mainlining Milwaukee’s Best Light and whatever two dollar whiskey they found in the supermarket bargain bin.

Someone in Wisconsin is holding onto a warehouse full of unsold cheeseheads right now after speculating a win and may commit suicide after taking out a second and third mortgage to pay for them. Any guesses on how many Packer fans called in sick today (yes, I know it’s a national holiday)? Its more then you think.

Poker still sucks, but while lying around this weekend I managed to play enough to get SilverStar status at PokerStars in three days. Considering the stakes I play at, that’s too many wrap draws. Blogger Skill series HORSE tourney at Full Tilt… I came, I fought, I got rivered at the final table, Razz can suck my swollen sore balls. Kudos for the superstacks, loved the amount of play, I’ll be there for the next one.

Someone please turn off the 1 or 2 from the tournament money button on my PC? I promise to stop kicking the cat and forcing the kids to watch the radar weather channel for 12 hours straight. I might even feel remorse for Packer fans this morning if it means cashing/winning instead of watching some virtual card that matches my opponent’s hand instead of mine and kissing three hours of my life away because T4o felt he was getting pot odds to call.

At least I can buy a bunch of stress balls and t-shirts at Stars now.

Snip, Cut, and Swat

Al comes through in pornorific fashion...

... after I get my snip so I can't truly appreciate the fine semi-naked body of Zack Morris' girlfriend. Thank you sir, and bless your Google abilities to find the boobies.

Chatted with the doc for twenty minutes about poker while he poked and his semi-attractive female assistant flicked my dick like a kitten with a catnip swat toy, maybe she was preventing it from hitting the floor. I choose to stay in the prone position laying down without looking because two people playing around with the jewels at the same time was a first, too bad the novacaine and the fact one was a male with sharp neddles and a beard put a damper on the experience.

Yesterday was the longest I played online poker since my bonus whoring days and managed to make a nice score on the NLO8 and PLO8 tables at Stars and Full Tilt.

Now its time for breakfast in bed :) Have a good weekend folks!

Asshats Need Not Apply

Why is a re-steal a brilliant play except when your opponent flips up Kings or Aces and it becomes “I got impatient”. Got into the moneys last night in Full Tilt’s 28K and managed to blow a par stack deep because fighting it out blinds versus blinds with A3o is a secondary qualifier for the Special Olympics.

Missed American Idol due to more internet hijinks that were solved it time to sign up for the Mookie and go out near Gigli-like place with Aces falling early. At least the dOOkie provided a freeroll for finishing third in a PLO format. Is it me, or is the asshat rating of the newer players in these going through the roof? Sarcasm is always welcome, jokes are a cornerstone of having fun, but being an asshole in these is like the dumbass at a keg party who goes into the parents’ room to steal mom’s favorite pink panties.

It doesn’t make sense.

Go show your superiority at the cash tables, go question some donkeys play in a $2 SnG for a half hour after his/her 56o “got there” versus your high pocket pair, but don’t come to these semi-private tourneys and tear into players that you don’t know. I think dry humping a cactus with a Prince video in the background while staring at a poster of Tiffany Amber-Thiessen (I'm sure if prodded Al will find you better pics) is more constructive then trying to win $150-$200 via the Mookie or Riverchasers. Wanna show off that mental acuity and brag about it? Go play NTN trivia at the bar, and hit on that neglected busty MILF with the watered down appletini in her bejeweled hand at the end of the row while sipping on your 2 fer 1 Sex on the Beach with a giant pineapple wedge in it.

Or feel free to allow a bullet to carve a wind tunnel through that thick skull of yours.

On a lighter side, if you’re not hitting up Pauly and Change100’s work down under at the Aussie Millions stop beating those kittens with plastic sporks and do something right in your life for once.

I'd Like a Side Order of Valium To Go

I call in for my prescription for the Valium for Friday while at work:

"Name"

"Dave"

"Date of Birth"

"Given to her, I'm calling to get the prescription filled that the doctor wanted"

"And what are you coming in for?"

"I'm having a procedure done on Friday, a vasc...."

"A WHAT?! I don't understand sir"

*me blankly staring at my cube wall wanting to beat the nurse with the phone because I have five lady co-workers within hearing distance and they love to tease the only guy in the department

"I was told to call in on Wednesday or Thursday prior to the procedure to get this, please look my record for details to get a prescription of Valium filled"

"What procedure are you getting done?"

*mentally up-ing from phone beating to my softball bat and possibly a rabid pit bull

"I'm at work right now, could you please review my record"

"Why are you calling?"

"I don't normally go to this office, could you please review my visit from last Thursday, again my name is Dave (and repeated DOB)"

"Oh oh oh, I'm sorry, I had (different DOB), I'll forward this on to Target Pharmacy today"

"Thank you"

Don't Tell Me What Happened

“Hon, go ahead and start my engine” she said while close enough to touch lips. Her hazel eyes hid a fire that hasn’t be stoked for awhile, and her hips started moving back and forth much like they did the previous Sunday when the kids slept a little later then usual and the adults had the freedom to not worry about being asked to pour a bowl of Cookie Crisps mid-stroke.

She did a 180 and glancing back over her shoulder walking back down the hallway with a slight devilish smirk on her blushing face. Her lustful actions had me wondering why instead of ejecting her new black lace panties from Victoria Secret out of bed, I was two inches deep in poo with remains of the pepperoni pizza dinner from last night while getting tax deduction number two up and ready for nana and pa’s before work and I had to suffer with a cold car while her vehicle with a heated seats would be as toasty as a summer day in Key West.

I live in exciting times folks.

And with my electronic internet machine spitting out error messages all night I missed all the girly chat about American Idol and no Bodoggie fantabulous overlay tourney but managed to TIVO the aspiring new singers before passing out on the couch. Vista > Drizz.

“Do you want to repair the internet connection?” Yes please.
“Do you want to diagnose the problem?” Yes please.
“Do wish I could serve blow jobs and Cap’n Cokes?” Duh.

Mookie tonight for those who enjoy these blogger tourneys. I’ll be there if I can defeat the evil Microsoft empire and regain my access to hot MILF on dwarf action. And remember, next time you’re at the Minneapolis airport bathroom and need to relieve yourself with the aid of a magazine in shrink wrap with a curly blonde showing too much make-up on the cover of Penthouse, Playboy, or Score?

The ACLU says its ok!

Will Sanjaya Be Topped?

Its time.

Who's in to the rate the best of the best and the worst of the worst on American Idol tonight?

Jessica Simpson Stole My Oven Mitts

How to pay for some oven mitts for a new kitchen (almost done pictures tomorrow!):





1) Bet a four team parlay with 80 to 1 odds





2) Watch in amazement as the first three legs of the parlay hit





3) Curse the Giants and Cowboys for not making the over





Chargers moneyline - Check


Chargers/Chokolts over 46 - Check


Giants moneyline - Check


Giants/Chokeboys over 47 - FUCK YOU JESSICA SIMPSON!

I know she's hiding my oven mitts in that shirt

Actually, Cowboys fans shouldn't blame those spectacular breasts for the loss. Really, just forget the threesome they had with a donkey in Mexican strip club*.



Blame the drops, blame the coaching, blame the quartback who doesn't know how to get rid of the ball without taking a sack or getting called for intentional grounding, blame Jerry Jones for not putting Moss, Chad Johnson, and T.O. on the same team (could you imagine that smack talk?).



I really wanted free oven mitts. Bracelet mentioned getting some PacMan styled ones, and sadly my Google search skillz couldn't even find them on EBay.



And thank you guys for the stories in the comments about the impending procedure but how many of you were given drugs or otherwise impaired? Two of my friends are shooting blanks and they got nothing, on a copyed piece of paper explaining the whole thing from the doctor, I'm supposed to get some Valium.



I was going to do a half of a handle of Cap'n, but this way it will limit the chances of pissing in the assistant's face or hitting on her when the novacaine shot goes in.



Poker still sucks but I'm loving the games, horrible players in bunches are swimming to the PL/NLO8 tables which is good because for a while it would be 4 or 5 regular solid players at a 6-max table. See a push with 689Q all black after a raise preflop? Its a good game. Push with a flush draw on a paired board? Its a good game. Lose both these hands for the weekend's profits? Its a good game.



If you can handle the variance, its about as good as it gets if you've read a couple of books and 2+2 forum postings.





*not true, at least I can't prove it

Porn, Its What's For Breakfast

I should be sitting with a permanent case of blue balls today but the doc had to postpone it till next week. As I told DP last night, I was fairly close to sliding the doc $100 if he'd explain to my wife that blowjobs are the easiest way to get rid of the unwanted sperm for the three months following the surgery.

Instead of lying here wearing my jock strap while munching on a McGriddle with the door locked to prevent unwanted headbutts to the less then fertile boys below, I'm whining about my luck this week while playing the usual blogger tourneys:

Tourneys entered: 3

Final tables: 2

Final table bubbles: 1

Total amount of time spent playing: 9 hours

Total amount spent: $35

Total amount won: $0

Guess the poker karma gods knew the snip would get rescheduled too. The reschedule was also welcome due to a link I fully got to enjoy before the kids woke up this morning on FlipChip's run around the AVN Adult Expo.

The man knows his boobies as seen by a couple of perfect side boob shots. Go check em out on the Poker Prof's site.

Two Things Getting Cut Off

Man goes Evil Dead on himself, finds it tough to play Guitar Hero afterwards.

I, on the other hand, found it quite easy to play after yet another one off the bubble finish in a blogger tourney despite being all out sick and after midnight. Number of the Beast called, I answered with the fake whammy bar and managed take out all frustration on the nerd screen. How anyone could not have fun playing Guitar Hero or Rockband is beyond the comprehension of this simple minded blogger.

Today I go in for every married man's walk of shame. No, I will not be purchasing the heavy period styled kotex maxi pads at Target. "My flow is REALLY HEAVY honey get those!" Yes, please say that a little louder I don't think you scared off the hunched over senior citizen that just tripped over his oxygen tank after your declaration of vaginial blood gushing.

No, I'll be learning all about shooting blanks for the rest of my life. Not sure what or how to feel yet, or if they'll put a cone on my neck so I don't lick my dick. I made a rhyme isn't that fine!

Actually I'm ok with it, except for the "why am I doing this" part. I need a reason, the wife won't give me one besides "I don't want to take pills for the rest of my life". Understandable, but doesn't growing a little Drizz inside of her require having sex in the first place? At least that's what I learned in the awkward Eighth Grade health class with Mr. Norris the former football playing physical fitness teacher forced to point to boobies, vaginas, and penises for horny middle school students on a chalkboard. Intimacy is there, sex isn't. She's tough to open up literally and figuratively so this isn't a new issue.

Wish my boys some luck on being handled with the TLC of a high priced hooker.

Four Card Blogger Bingo

Skillz game fun.

Chat fun.

Losing one off the bubble in 8th while 70/30 ahead on the river on a bad call, not so fun. I said my four letter word with a force that sent the cat downstairs in sound barrier breaking fashion and calmly turned off the electronic internet machine to go hock up another softball size phelem ball.

Let us thank BWOP for freerolling this webpage in last night's tourney! As a certain sexually questionable hat toting Guitar Hero rocker would say "Bonus money is the sweetest money".

Crush Me

Since my head is as dense and cloudy as the unseasonable fog rolling through Minnesota right now. I'll point you towards Pauly's place for degenerate talented writers that give you stories that make you nod in approval every time. And if you even for one second thought OSU was going to win after the decent start, you need to change the password on your sportsbook account or lose your bookie's number. Tressel looks like a deer in headlights during these big games.





Oh, and Lindsay Lohan is so 2007, my new crush is...

Please don't cancel Gladiators until I get her phone number

Truckin' - January 2008, Vol. 7, Issue 1


1. The Squirter by Paul McGuire


Joey was the cream of the crop circa 1992. But now her looks have started to fade and she's slumming in the afternoon shift. The booze perked her up a bit and she told me the horror stories about the last few days. Cowboys in town for the rodeo didn't tip and took up all the seats. They liked to look but not pay... More





2. Blackouts by Garth Elliot


Once or twice a month I experience another blackout. Usually I wake to find myself lying on my bed, still in the clothes I went out in, shoes and all. Other times I've woken up curled up in some park somewhere. More than once I have come to on a beach, usually when I am on vacation. On the rare occasion I wake up in a stranger's bed... More





3. The Ring by Johnny Hughes


Cody was a hero in the fifties. A perfect bopper. Heavy greased ducktails. The Chevy. Sandy Kay. Football. Cody peroxided his hair for the Gold Team. Cody Slaton was a James Dean impersonator long before the hoard of Elvis impersonators sought to clone the King... More





4. Vaguely Moving by Andy Harbuck


I spent precious minutes of wakefulness in the dirty restroom, contemplating buying the studded condoms for added sensation. When I got to the car and mentioned the close call to my girlfriend, she looked relieved. I'm not sure if it's the studs that scare her, or just me wanting sex... More





5. Vegas Virgin by Kajagugu


I just picked up the dice and threw them to the other side of the table. One bounce. Hit the wall. Roll back and stop. That bead of sweat now rolled right into my eye and blurred my vision. I tried to wipe my eye clean but all I could hear was a huge burst of applause and screaming and before I knew it the Texan was lifting me up in the air in a huge bear hug... More

Gray, Like a Minnesota Winter Day

Ball shaving? I need to limit my drunken typing.

I have difficulty typing out my feelings for things lately. A jumble of stories, words, and badly phrased metaphors swirl around like a tornado that never lands or sends Dorothy off to Oz.

I’ll be vague because I’m not sure what is passing through, if its passing through, or is it just another one of life’s test waiting for the circle marked A,B,C, or all-of-the-above to be completely covered with a No. 2 pencil (they still do this, or am I that old?). Its not poker, its not my kids, its not my marriage, family, friends, work or any one thing that is flashing a bright red, WARNING sign in my face. A little bit of this, a little bit of that has me as confused as boy who just found dad’s Playboy and wondering why he’s interested in only the articles of course.

So, in the mean time I fill my void with disgruntled sarcasm, raising my blood alcohol level to deep end of the pool depths, and fake smiles that look real because even though I’m a horrible poker player, I can show whatever emotion fits the part on the green felt and in my partially finished kitchen.

Maybe I’ll make sense of the past paragraphs sometime as right now they’re what pops into my single digit IQ brain and needed a home. I would like to thank the Brit Bloggerment for bringing back everything I enjoy about Blogger Tourneys (despite me having to leave for daddy duties in the middle). The small field, and lively chat about Football (proper not pigskin), and even some parental sentences being thrown out there made it a cozy chat box versus berating each other’s play as the cards hardly mattered.

Anyone with thoughts on American Gladiators going the way of the WWF? Cut the cheese, keep the breast sizes, and bring back the Saturday morning show many of us watched while waking up late and eating some bacon and eggs. Hellga? Dear lord that woman looks like she could castrate men with one slight thigh squeeze.

I'm Number 44!!!

Which isn't exciting nor important.

The SnG maddess plus 52oz. keg glasses of Cap'n Coke equal plus $50 on $6 SnGs, and I'm not telling how many I played because either the number is degenerate or obscenely low to you dear reader.

Kitchen almost done, pics to come. Me? I come around the next time we line up for the WPBT Winter Classic.

Peace. And have a good weekend.

One question... is it correct to shave your nether regions if your partner doesn't care?

Cooking Up Tilt

I think limited myself to two lost buy-ins last night as a last minute decision to play the Mookie turned into a multi-tabling fuck fest that is the reason why I play this four card bingo.

I lost big, but limited myself on much I gave away to the plethora of gentlemen who have to use a calcuator to figure out how to breathe through their noses. I still love this game, I hate the streaks you go through however. Anyone who enjoys sniffing rubber cement before quaffing down a bottle of Everclear and a basket of three-mile island wings would enjoy watching the chips fly around the table like Peter Pan sprinkled some of Tinkerbell's fairy dust on them.

Love the action, hate the variance.

Tomorrow the cabinets and new appliances are being dropped off for me to stare at while others put them in. I'm still not allowed to touch the tools, so Daddy Drizz needs to come up with an afternoon of misdirection for the kids. I thought we'd hit up Canterbury's back room for some Pai Gow action followed by a game of quarters at the bar.

Anyone else need babysitting?

2008? Are We Old Yet?

The toys have all the necessary batteries, some have already fallen to misuse, and others have had Full Tilt installed much to the delight of players who enjoy poking sharp sticks at me playing trash and hitting. But, poker and I are doing fine despite the results not turning around recently to a positive note or general increase under the balance section.

New Years started with a chick fight, and ended with hugs, kisses, and numb fingers wrapped around decent cigars out in the garage knocking back stories of wasabi, golf, and drinking a little more then the gas tank can handle. Always a fun party with little ones running around, all one year older, one year wiser, one year towards growing up too fast. Even though this year was probably the most sober I’d spent ringing in the new year since the great Captain drought of aught one, seeing all of my friends is all the buzz I need for a good time.

That and some kick ass chicken wings.

At home I’m reliving my college days of eating with paper and plastic utensils and wondering which roommate stole my Rush CD, and smoking clove cigarettes at the dorm with the hottie from the tri-delts as the drywall is up and taped, and lighting fixtures are screwed in awaiting the new cabinets and refrigerator (anyone need a throwback fridge?) that doesn’t produce off white colored ice. I have had zero hand in finishing this project other using my wallet to hand over my paycheck to Home Depot and hauling the battered remains of the 70s styled kitchen to the frozen trailer outside.

Did you know its cold in Minnesota? Its true, my glasses stuck to my face this morning like Flick’s tongue to the pole after the triple dog dare. Luckily, the wife decided we needed to go to Texas next month for no other reason other then to get silly off dollar margaritas in Mexico and golf with two of my closest friends and their spouses.

Life Alert.

You need a new commercial.

Although “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” never gets old and causes a chuckle or four, C. Everett Koop is looking a tad tired after peddling this product for the past three decades. Maybe Tom Emanski will follow this advice and upgrade to Joe Mauer over the Fred McGriff.

Enjoy the new year, maybe I’ll do a clichéd resolutions post tomorrow as I need some goals to continue this madness of watching people calling pot sized raises with 668J in Omaha hi/low out of position heads up and hitting. Or I’ll just spend the next 12 months trying to get to the expert level on Guitar Hero.

Hope everyone enjoyed the holidays, and hope to see you folks again soon.