Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Good Word

Yesterday was very refreshing. There's something about working overnight then hitting the covers for an afternoon that feels cold side of the pillow or feet-hitting-fluffy-carpeting good.

Due to the extra work at PokerStarsBlog yesterday and this coming weekend (Go over and check out our WCOOP recaps!!) for the WCOOP, this page will lag a bit since my co-worker is on leave and hometime is at a premium with Wyatt's soccer team is in full practice/games mode while Kyra starts up gymnastics next week and I'm finishing up my two adult t-ball (softball)leagues there about enough time to check the phone for messages (sorry about that Otis, my phone was dead) and head out to activity #1,945,023.

In other news, busy is good.

There's an enjoyment beyond typed words that I derive from being called on to work since my usual duties consist of keeping numbers alligned and stacking TPS reports alphabetically. My 9 to 5 is not the most thought provoking job in the world but I love the company and it pays the bills. Since I'm a low-level grunt with nothing more than a 2-year degree, professionally I'm stuck with what is given versus outreaching for what could be. Sure, going back to college and picking up a piece of very expensive paper could open a few doors but anyone want a half-deaf manager with a penchant for overplaying aces and tendency to make gag worthy white-boy dance moves everytime there's 80's hair metal music on after a few Captain and Cokes?

Aside from the finances and time that I don't have, there's a million other excuses that could be thrown at this college thing that keeps nipping at me but I rationalize it like this:

I'm happy right now, I'm satisfied where I'm at, and my family is taken care of.

Why throw those things into a spin cycle to be washed at high speeds for the sake of an educational facility to proclaim that I managed to break down a math problem or memorize an equation that will never been used again outside of a test with my name politely written at the top with room and period number.

Until those three things are threatened or in the forseeable future need to be upgraded, there's no desire to complete a bunch of mind-numbing textbook reading just for credits. Learning a new language, improving my writing, learning SQL... those things I'm interested in but don't cover the 8 credits of art history or Calculus III (better known as lets-give-you-one-problem-that-takes-four-pages-of-calculations-to-complete) needed to get a degree.

I'll choose happy for the first time since, ever. My inner-anger is gone (until of course someone brutally cracks my five million outs twice tonight and my laptop ends up embedded in the neighbor's overused hot tub), and for once in my life I don't feel like there's a need to prove myself of anything. Stable job (but need to cross fingers thanks to the economy), good friends that are trusting and trustworthy, and a renewed marriage/family life now that I can be the person they want and I want thanks to my bionic ears and refound need to stay in shape.

Don't worry, there's no attempt to become "born again", as I respect others' faiths, I hold true to the house of the present. As my belief is in family, friends, the angle of the dangle, and good drink with conversations not a book or teachings of the past. I had an old school-mate try turn me to biblical readings and living a more "clean" life. I told him I'd rather live how I want and not limit myself due to 2,000 year old "rules" or interpretation of those rules handed down through a book. I won't get into stances of abortion, homosexuality, etc. etc. because you're going to believe what YOU want, and I'll believe in want I want. To press someone's beliefs on another (unless you have the inside scoop on an NFL line SHARE WITH ME PLEASE) its best to keep it to yourself.

Rant over, feel free to recant and tell me I'm going to burn in hell.

Done blowing sunshine up your asses today. See you tonight as there's no WCOOP on tap for myself, so I'll be murking in the low limit tourney waters with a 52 ounce liquid stress reliever in my right hand.



As for what you should be reading... Truckin' is coming back at ya, read the latest issue below, that Human Head poked his Jupiter-sized melon into. I have a story swirling around for the good doctor once the WCOOP madness dies down and the temperatures make it less desirable to step outside for a walk.

1. Tangerine Rockets by Paul McGuire Lennie was an international legend. His father walked away from a plane crash and passed along some of those good luck genes over to Lennie.... More

2. The Red Pill by Sigge S. Amdal She dropped the face and began to cry, as tensions rose around me. The waiters stopped waiting tables, people stopped talking; they were just exchanging knowing glances and judgmental comments... More

3. Fine Tuning by Milton T. Burton He looked perplexed. I slipped my hand beneath my coat, came out with the little silenced .22 Magnum auto, and shot him right in the center of the forehead. The hollow-point bullet exited the back of his skull, making a colorful little jet of blood and brains as it went... More

4. On Scoring by Human Head One look at the eyeliner, eyebrows, gold hoops and herringbone chains, and I knew this was the Angel we were supposed to see. As she drew closer to the door, the tattoo's left little doubt. She didn't say anything. She just looked at me... More

5. The Joys of Gambling by Johnny Hughes Saratoga Springs, New York in August was the gambling capital of America in the 1920s, with the horses, the spa waters, large and ornate casinos, and America's wealthiest citizens in a gilded age, when money and wine were treated like water... More

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