Monday, August 15, 2005

Dumb Plays, Boogers and Come Home Michael

I have nothing to say.

Never stopped you before.

Good point.

I was gonna re-hash my ignominious exit from the Crazy Re-Buy on Saturday night, but, in the end, I decided it won't be all that constructive to curious readers out there. It's pretty simple. I was on a bit of a rush, over-burdened with hubris, a little drunk and a lot stupid. No defense for that.

I didn't stop to think. "Steal" flashed into my head and I went forward--plunging, headlong into the abyss--from there. Stack size, range of hands, new table, position in tournament...none of 'em even registered.

Well played, sir. Well played.

Thanks though to the commentors who pointed out my idiocy. Very insightful, along the lines of "You're brown" or "You need a haircut."

I keed, I keed.

By the way, my pet nickname for pocket 4s is Mr. October. Maybe that had something to do with it. But I see '44' and I immediately think Reginald Martinez Jackson, even though he wore 9 with the A's. Is there a more famous 44 in the sporting world? I think not. Just for the record, after I think Reggie, I think Robert Newhouse.

******************************

Spent most of yesterday on yard work, the only quasi-interesting thing about that being that I have a sun-burned butt crack. Yes, I was sans shirt and bending frequently, driving all the Desperate Housewives in the tract mad with desire. Or repulsion.

This whole home-ownership thing is really quite the pain in the ass. We've lived in our home about 15 months and are slowly--and not so surely--getting it in the shape we want. But each project takes months and in the meantime, you still have to maintain everything else.

I finally renovated The Booger Room. What was once to be my den, and indeed it was where I first logged onto Party Poker, had become a storing house for all things AJ. It was just an absolute mess, so much so that the dear and patient wife and I just surrendered. Do with it what you will, my son. Someday, after you've destroyed it beyond repair, we'll figure out what to do.

That kind of thinking only works for a while on me, though. I get frustrated with mess. Which is not to say I'm the cleanest guy around. Just that I'm very likely to go off on a major cleaning binge when I get fed up. So it was the The Booger Room.

About three weeks ago, I got the idea to convert it into AJ's playroom. Why we didn't take this particular tack from the start, I don't know. It's the perfect spot for it. But it said "den" on the blueprints, so I guess we were brainwashed. I dismantled the desk and bookcase and removed the rest of the furniture. I steam-cleaned the carpet, resulting in a shockingly pristine shag considering the playdoh, juice and godknowswhatelse stains my boy perpetuated lo these many months. I white-washed the walls, removing crayon, pen, dirt and yes, boogers.

See, that's why we called it the Booger Room. AJ would pick himself a winner and casually wipe it on the wall. No matter how many times he was warned off this behavior, it persisted. He's gonna be quite a hit with the ladies, doncha think?

I brought in a TV for his video games, bought all manner of shelves and containers for his toys and last, but not at all least, held an hour-long lecture/demonstration with Booger Boy about the proper way to care for his shiny new playroom.

So far, so good. Of course, I've yet to figure out where to put all the shit that was previously in the den. Which is the point of all this. Now I have to do the same crap to another room. Then another. You'd think I'd run out of rooms, but there's this whole domino thing and I fear simply running around in circles for the rest of my natural life.

To wit: My mother is giving us this very nice old wardrobe which will go very nicely in our bedroom. Instantly, the dear and patient wife starts in with all the things that will go so well with this piece and how we can move x to y and q to....STOP!

I'm still a little shell-shocked from scraping boogers off the wall.

*****************************

Disappointing start to the Premiership for Liverpool, their road woes from last term seemingly still an issue. They were the better club, created the better chances and Gerrard should have had a couple. But the attack is still fair, at best, failing to dent the scoresheeet even with a man advantage late on. New (and relatively new) boys Morientes, Cisse, Zenden and Sissoko were all sub-standard. When Baros is shipped elsewhere, it's incumbent upon Rafa to bring in another attacking option.

I have a fucking suggestion.

16 Comments:

At 4:12 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

44, huh?

Ummm...

KEITH VAN HORN!

Uhhhh...

BUSH'S IQ!

Mmmm....

HIGHEST DOLLAR AMOUNT IN ANY ONE OF MY POKER BANKROLLS!

Yeah, that's the ticket.

 
At 4:18 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Seriously though, it could sound just like this...

"I'm holding Pocket Rockets and some dumbass acting UTG goes all-in preflop. I call, and this freaking Emu was holding Bush's IQ! Can you believe it? Bush's Freaking IQ!"

 
At 4:19 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Honestly, I like the sound of that. We should make it official.

 
At 4:21 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

I'm not fully sure that my previous comments read as seriously as I meant them.

Bush's IQ.

It's gold, Joey...GOLD!

 
At 4:21 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

That was a Seinfeld reference.

(Just in case you didn't catch it.)

 
At 4:22 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Looking back, it seems that my use of parenthesis was not really necessary. I was hoping I could just make that clear really quick.

Sorry for any confusion with the pointless use of the parenthesis.

 
At 4:23 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

It just dawned on me that I just apologized for something as dumb as using parenthesis.

For that I wish to apologize.

 
At 4:25 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Looking back now, it has become abundantly clear that I have too much time on my hands.

For that, I apologize again.

 
At 4:26 PM, Blogger Julio said...

wasn't Hank Aaron a #44?

what about Tom Rathman???

 
At 4:26 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

People often say,

"Third times a charm!"

and I don't know if it's really supposed to apply in this situation, but I just apologized three times in a row. Shouldn't something "Charm-like" have happened upon that 3rd apology?

Just wonderin...

 
At 4:27 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Seriously, scratch that last question. It was a dumb question and I shouldn't have wasted a comment on it.

I should read my comments before I hit post, just to be sure I don't put something stupid in there.

 
At 4:28 PM, Blogger Huge Junk said...

Damn you Jules...

 
At 8:25 AM, Blogger Drizztdj said...

All-in with.... 44!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

That's funny right there.

And I want whatever Bob was smoking while coming up with 11 comments.

 
At 8:35 AM, Blogger Poker Nerd said...

All the great Syracuse running backs (Jim Brown, etc.) wore 44.

John Riggins too!

 
At 11:19 AM, Blogger Otter Chaos said...

Looks like the Scousers might just be contemplating signing some midget from Spain. If they do, then annoyingly he might be around by the time the postponed Charlton game (some non-League competition or other seems to be interfering here) is played. Hurrah. (He thinks, wryly).

 
At 11:23 AM, Blogger StB said...

I don't see how you could not think of Hammerin Hank Aaron first. Though I do like the though of Robert Newhouse second.

 

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