Thursday, December 18, 2008

Clean Up Aisle Nine

Today I was intent on bullet pointing another "successful" WPBT Winter Classic trip to Vegas.

Instead I...

  • Showed up at the in-store Target health clinic right after work to receive word that my daughter's ear is fine and there's no infection. While carrying the boy two steps out of the small clinic he decides to unleash a furious puking show unseen since the pie eating scene in Stand By Me
  • Got home, cleaned up the remaining vomit, daughter decided for the rest of the evening that I was not her favorite sperm donator in the world and proceeded to resist bedtime pleas for over an hour with Thor-like hammer wailings against her door/wall/dresser/house. Headache at Defcon 5.
  • Played the Mookie, got a big stack, lost one big suckout which would have allowed me to coast, then proceeded to get pummeled by the short stack card rack sitting to my right on five different all-ins for him, bubbled in 9th
  • Played the WBCOOP at Stars for the only event I would be home for. Luck was on my side as the game was PLO8 (was feeling good F-Train, congrats on the finish). Luck was not on my side when 40 spots to the main event ticket, someone decided 89TJ rainbow was a shove worthy hand versus my obvious connected AAXX when I 3-bet him and he still had plenty of chips to fold and wait for another hand, he hits two pair, I do not recover nor receive a ticket.
  • This morning I attempt to get the one thing that makes me happy right below a wake-up blow job, a nicely crafted hot chocolate. The vending machine $.75 stuff kicks much ass for despite its three quarter cost, but today it spat out dirty hot water instead. I contempated getting my softball bat from my car at this point to unleash the fury at this ineptitude with a swift home swing that would make A-Rod jealous.
  • In the continued search for a hot chocolate I bit the .45 calber bullet and attempted the vapid Starbuck route of obtaining my liquid sunshine. Overpaid for warm Nestle Quik in a fancy loco'd cup. Mix that in with what I lost in Vegas, plus the wonderful cold shoulders at home I may need a padded room very soon.

If there's a news story coming from about a man running down Hwy. 610 with a Starbucks cup in one hand, softball bat in the other singing "Bicycle Race" please call my wife to come pick me up.

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