What To Do, What To Do
I seem to have emerged victorious over the germs which inconveniently assaulted me the past two days. Got a few turnovers in the backcourt from my defensive specialist zinc and Vitamin C drained a couple key treys. As such, the team bus will be leaving tonight for Vegas, instead of in the morning. A shootaround is tentatively scheduled for 11 p.m. at the IP. I will be calling all of you from the road to ascertain your whereabouts and to make you entertain me during the monotonous drive through the desert.
Gonna be a long day. A bunch of folks out there already, others on their way, which means blog reading is thin this morning. Damn you all. How the fuck am I supposed to fill an 8-hour work day? No, work is not a valid suggestion.
Played a little Omaha with the boy last night. Got stuck almost immediately, but then came back to break him, prompting this admonition from the dear and patient wife, "Flopping the nuts against your four-year-old is nothing to be proud of."
My WPBT tourney bounty is...well...I'm not going to tell you, but it's been mentioned here recently and it's the funniest thing I've ever seen/heard that is not a comment or post from Daddy.
T-minus 14 hours.