Getting it in under the wire: Drizz made me do it

"Luck never gives; it only lends." -- wedish Proverb

It's that time again; I have a belly full of Guinness and a ton of material to get out because I've been too busy skiing in Ireland and riding tour buses with old people in Aspen. Or something like that.

But first, let me get this out of the way: Bonus Code Iggy! Now, on to Destroying Workplace Productivity.

Wait a minute: That Gary Carson is a cranky, funny fuck.

That's all. I don't have anything to post, but Gary pays me $20 to publish his name at least once a month.

Second, how about a funny picture that has nothing to do with anything I'm about to cut-and-paste:

Now, let?s hear from JoeSpeaker:

April Fool's Day "Be Your Favorite Blogger" Submission. Seven Hours Early Because I'm Going to Morongo Tonight. Bitches.

There are things about which I am serious and things about which I am blase and, without a doubt, soap scum--and the eradication thereof--falls in the former camp. Even the slightest hint of that filmy plague can send me into a furious pique of dervishry, and if you've ever had one of those, you know it can be both frightening and hallucination-inducing. It was in such a mind that I donned my rubber gloves (a
light blue to match my fabulous eyes) and my cleaning product of choice,which is so downright lemony that its mere presence makes me feel like I'm being propelled down a citrus waterslide.

So I'm scrubbing away with the elbow and grease both working in maximum and syncopated overdrive, the poor little 49-cent sponge disintegrating under the pressure--like the occasional Space Shuttle--when I let my concentration slip. It was only the briefest of moments, but the scars will last at least until I win the $17K again.

What happened was this: I had buffed the porcelain of our bathtub to a shocking whiteness. The sun that FINALLY peeked through the clouds was intense in its glare and with laser-like precision, bounced a ray right off that shimmering sea of cleanliness into my eyes. Momentarily blinded, I threw up my sponge hand in alarm, slamming it against the vanity mirror, which cracked, sending splinters of glass, both large and small, throughout the room. One of them, particularly ornery and opinionated, flew right through the loose shoulder of my fabulous sweater (much like Barbara Billingsley, I clean in only my finest garments, or nothing at all; unlike Barbara Billingsley, I'm not afraid to tell the PTA ladies to "suck it") and into the wall, actually pinning me there, as if nailed to a cashmere cross, or to a cross wearing cashmere or something, quit being such a pedantic twit.

Recovering from the shock, I called out for my husband, Hugh Beaumont...no, that's not his name...I forget his name...I haven't seen him since the Carter Administration, but he's a furry guy, huggable like a bear or a giant ape. I then screamed for my impossibly cute kids, but they were playing Pot Limit Omaha all the way down stairs and from the shouts and table-slamming, the game was pretty raucous. So I sat there for a while, contemplating my fate, wondering why my arms were paralyzed, as if someone had put Durex Maintain inside my gloves. I could not free myself.

Maybe I was just in shock. I don't know. But I fell asleep there. In the morning, I woke to find myself freed. And wrapped in my favorite blanket. That was nice, whoever did that. Fucker didn't have to leave me on the bathroom floor, though.

And...scene.

Wait, here's another non-sensical picture:

And then Drizz weighs in:

860th Greatest Poker Player

As the 860th greatest poker player (as of 6/3/05) I often have to fend off pesky things like women wanting me to autograph their newly minted 36 DDDs on the way to work. This greatly annoys me as there?s only so much Bobby Bracelet I can give back to the community while keeping it real.

And keeping it real I do.

Between my charitable work of exterminating the world of douchebaggery and making sure Playboy Bunnies are sexually satisfied daily there?s little time for Bobby Bracelet to think about Bobby Bracelet. When I stand in front of a mirror and admire the hunk and the junk looking back at me, I often theorize how difficult it must be for people to go through life and not be me. Alas, this my way of giving back to the people (even that fuck-tard at Arby?s who spent five minutes at the drive-thru window deciding between a curly fries and a potato cake only to ask for sliced apricots instead because his shoe size IQ wouldn?t allow his Michelob Ultra bottle cap sized brain process the fact that Arby?s doesn?t serve sliced apricots and he should stab himself in the face for displaying an act of stupidity unseen since Larry the janitor used his 1000 original shares of Microsoft as toilet paper back in 1979 and now is resigned to playing bingo every night at the VFW for beer money).

Where was I?

Oh yes, giving to the people. I am a giver, just ask those three ladies that confirmed my junk and lived to tell the tale. I hear they have orgasms from just hearing the word ?Bobby?. I, Bobby Bracelet of WSOP and iPod fame will teach YOU how to not suck at life. I introduce this awe-flipping-some tome of daily affirmations so you too can block out all the ass-tards in your life.

OneTooMany: The Guide to Becoming a Poker God (like me)

Chapters will include:

- ?Yes, my junk is huge, but I have standards? (how to get women begging for more)

- A guide on check-raising douchebag tourists off their straight flushes

- What to do when faced with a decision of going home with the blonde or a brunette

It pains me to give away my secrets, but Bobby Bracelet is giver not a receiver I just don?t swing like that.


Run don't walk to buy my book now before it?s too late. Peace.

And Jordan speaks up:

Country Livin'

I got home last night from the bowling alley (236, 270, 178-don?t ask) and I was itching for a game. I IM?ed TripJax and he was done for the night. The regular 45-person SNG was not filling up very fast, so, against my better judgment, I entered the $6 + .50 Turbo 45-person SNG. Apparently, my judgment sucks! I took 1st.

I played the entire game very loose, seeing a 15% of the flop with such questionable hands as JJ and TT!!! I know, I usually like to keep it tight as a rock, but last night I felt like gambowling...that's a bowling joke. I was the short stack once ITM, but I expertly played my AA, KK and AK to win it in the end.

I haven?t done much playing on the laptop since I got it, in fact, I?ve only played one SNG on it so far. The biggest problem is clearing the screen. My old laptop was easy. All I had to do was pick it up and shake it and the pictures would all clear. It was a real perty one too, all cherry red with two white

I'm looking forward to going to the summer home, which is surprisingly further in the sticks then my present location in Bumblefuck, Oklahoma. The plan is to cut down some trees, hunt some coons for dinner, (racoons, because the other ones are not in season), drink some Keystone Light and sing karaoke country songs. I'm not sure which one I'll start with, but it's between the song about kissing cousins or the song about losing my job, my wife, running over my dog, and getting a headache. I sure do love me some country music! YEE HAW!

Happy hump-day.

J

I'm posting this picture taken the last time I was in Barcelona because it's important people know that Catalonia is its own country:

Here goes Scurvy, opening up old wounds:

By ScurvyDog

Things are still going great. I'm really not sure what the fuss is with some people, because every time I sit down to play 3/6, it's like some creepy old dude keeps slipping $100 bills in my thong. I added up the totals for the month and I'm $19,202 ahead, if you count the $4,182 I got in bonuses.

Some people out there keep accusing me of lying but I just don't get it. It must be that cranky bitch Felicia who's pretending to be all of them. They keep saying that my math is wrong, that there's no possible way I can make that much money at 3/6 playing as few hours as I do. But what can I say, every month I seem to win more and more. I think they're all just inbred like Felicia.

I continue to play 3/6 and just play as rocklike as possible, though I have found of late I am actually having more success by calling more and raising less. I have been calling with AK and AQ in early position, and dropping them if I miss.

I think people just don't understand what it takes to be a pro. Just play like a rock and stick to 3/6 and you'll be living the high life like Pat and I. Every month since I turned pro has been better than the one before it!

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