Thursday, January 20, 2005

Damnit, I really wanted to blog about addiction and poker and life priorities per GRob's great post and Rama's followup, as well as biting into the ripe subject of, "Are Blogs Gay?".

Sadly, I'm flying out at 9AM. My humble apologies for the lack of uber-post. Just jumping on here to ramble for a minute.

Because this whole leaving my job thing is still nagging at me, I'm actually repining for my old job. I suppose this is natural.

I miss the structure. The people. The unwavering paycheck. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. With a tough job that you even semi-enjoy, you still feel a sense of purpose. Not to knock poker, but grinding ain't exactly enriching in the traditional sense.

It is what it is.
Guinness and poker.

But still:
poker > job

That said, Grubby is having FAR more fun with the whole "leaving corporate life behind" thing. Maybe I should move back to Vegas.

Grubette sent me this link: Rent a Midget. I hope they are more punctual than my Little Person was.

One quick anecdote per blogging ...last week, a non-poker friend called to mock me for this here humble poker blog, and he did it very well, thank you. He was surprised with the amount of content and asked if blogging had become a compulsion/addiction for me.

I told him what he called compulsive behavior, I considered 'work ethic'.
"Writing an interesting blog ain't easy," I said.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.
And mocked me some more.

Oh the humanity.

Alrighty then, that's all I've got time for.
Consider this a hiatus.

Please consider Bonus Code IGGY if you aren't yet playing at Party Poker.
Seriously, if you aren't playing there - cut back on the huffing.

Johnny did and popped $1700 on Tuesday.

Allow me to leave you with this brilliant (and fitting) poker literary gem.


By: Phil Cerasoli

'Twas past midnight, damp and dreary, I in bed awake but weary
Trying vainly to establish with sound slumber a rapport,
When I heard a sound so muffled, sounded like cards being shuffled
Coming from the other side of my sturdy bedroom door.

I tossed and turned and said, "It is the wind and nothing more".

But the sound it was remaining. With bravado in me draining
I donned my robe and tiptoed to my sturdy bedroom door.
I opened it a crack, peeked out and saw the back
Of a man who was just sitting, playing cards upon the floor.

"'Tis a nightmare of my mind," I said, "Just this and nothing more".

'Twas a cloak draped 'cross his back and a Raven, shiny black,
Was facing him and pacing in a circle on the floor.
My jaw dropped when I heard the soft voice of that huge bird
Saying, "Deal me in this card game for a couple hands or more".

And the man tossed four chips to him; four blue chips and nothing more.

Then I must have made a sound, for he slowly turned around
And his face was pale as misty, eerie fog that hugs the shore.
Then he whispered to me low, "I'm the ghost of Allen Poe
Who has come here to play poker as I did in days of yore.

'Tis a poker game I'm craving. Only this and nothing more".

"Won't you sit in for a while?" he asked me with a smile,
"It will make a better card game than it was an hour before".
And, not wanting to incite him, I slowly walked beside him
Meekly asking what the stakes were as I sat down on the floor.

"Penny-ante," said the stranger. Quoth the Raven, "Nothing more."

From the start I had a streak of luck that reached its peak
By my winning all the pennies that the two had owned before.
Then the man said, oh so slyly, (as the Raven grinned so wryly),
"This low stake game we're playing I'm beginning to abhor.

"Then by all means", said the Raven, 'we should surely play for more".

Then the man, with gesture bold, from his cloak withdrew some gold
In a bag that was so heavy that to move it was a chore.
His sly look I failed to heed for my soul was filled with greed
As I saw the golden coins from the sack begin to pour.

"Yes," I whispered weakly, "We should surely play for more".

Then he said in voice so solemn as he stacked coins in a column,
"The hour grows late; I'm weary, so we'll play but one hand more.
If you win, my gold you'll own. If I win then it's your home
That will be mine to have and keep...to keep forevermore".

Quoth the Raven: "Evermore".

I said, "That's fair, I feel." Then the man began to deal
And the cards I had were aces and the aces numbered four.
I said, "My hand is pat and I'm only sorry that
The pot has been established and that we can bet no more."

Quoth the Raven: "Bet some more!"

"He speaks true," I then was told, and the man pulled out more gold
And tossed it with the other coins that were strewn across the floor.
"But I cannot match your bet," I sadly said, "but, yet,
I must have something left; something you two would adore".

Said the Raven, "You in bondage. Only this and nothing more".

"He speaks wisely", said the man. "If you want to bet, you can.
But lose and you're our slave and servant now and evermore".
I stared at my four aces, smiled and looked at my guest's faces,
Sealed the bet and spread my aces down and out across the floor.

Said the Raven in a whisper, "I see aces numb'ring four!"

The face of Poe just glowered as his poker hand he lowered
'Til it covered my four aces that were resting on the floor.
Then amid a quiet hush, I saw his small straight flush
And knew that I was beaten and was doomed forevermore.

Said the Raven, "You in bondage here and now and evermore".

Now on dark nights, cold and dreary, my sore body grows so weary
As I dust and wash and clean and sweep the droppings on the floor.
While my master and his Raven live in comfort in their haven
With their slave who's held in bondage, held in bondage



Link of the Day:
Death-Dealin' Dilberts
The creator of the Office Bow of Death warns people who make one at work today: "This weapon can actually penetrate flesh, muscle and eyeballs."

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