Insomnia

Well, here it is, 8:00 am on a Sunday morning, and I should be deep into my REM cycle right about now, but as tired as I am, I just can't seem to fall asleep.

I came home from work about 2:30, passed Rob as he was heading in, and decided that instead of the usual hot tub/rum drink/cigar ritual, I'd just take a shower and head to bed. Good plan, but sleep never happened for me. I don't know why, but my mind has been racing ever since I got home, and I have no explanation why. It's just one of those days, I suppose.

And I *really* want to sleep, too. There's no good NFL games on--the NFL, in it's infinite wisdom, has seen fit to make sure that if you're not one of the people fortunate enough to have the DirecTV Sunday Ticket package, you're stuck with one shitty game in the morning--Giants and Dolphins from London.

Oh, and while I'm at it, let me just call a spade a spade and say what a bunch of f*cking HYPOCRITES they are. The NFL wouldn't allow Vegas commercials on during the Super Bowl broadcasts these past few years--they reason they gave--because we have sports betting out here.

Well I got news for you, dumbasses--There are bookie parlors ALL OVER London. For f*ck sakes--they even have a betting window INSIDE the stadium where today's game is being played. Granted, they've asked that it be closed today, but that doesn't count the half dozen of the other shops within a couple of blocks of Wembley Stadium that are still open and taking action on the game! Morons.

I could go on a huge Pulitzer-winning rant about this, but it just makes me so damn mad that I wanna cock-punch whoever is making the decisions in that Ivory Tower they call NFL Headquarters. But what do I know? They're running a multi-billion dollar enterprise and my personal net worth is still expressed in red numbers.

Anyhow, I'm boycotting the NFL this morning and avoiding that piece-of-shiat game completely. My TV won't come on until 1:00 pm at the earliest. I'll get my scores and updates on the internet--that's right bitches--I made BETS on a few of today's contests. And if I win big, I'm gonna send a check for TEN whole American dollars each to Randy Moss and Tom Brady, C/O the New England Patriots, and kindly ask them to start shaving points for me. Because, you know, we gamblers like to influence the outcome of games. The rest of it, I'm just gonna piss away on hookers and blow.

Actually, my guess is that I'll probably finally fall asleep about the time the first game kicks off, and sleep my way all the way through the afternoon, waking up just in time to go back to work. Not to worry, though, it should be another easy night--I'm scheduled on two Pai Gow Games and Deuces Wild, so it'll be almost like a vacation day. That is, if they don't jack with the roadmap and fark up all the strings, like last night.

For instance, on Saturday night, I dealt all of the following games at some point in my shift:

1. Blackjack
2. Pai Gow
3. Dice
4. Deuces Wild
5. Bonus Holdem

I guess I'm a jack-of-all-trades as far as the casino is concerned. If this were the big leagues, they'd call me a five-tool player. A valuable guy to have on your team! Unfortunately, as far as my poker-playing goes, I've only got warning track power, so I'll probably just toil in the minors for several years, dragging the odd pot off of unsuspecting tourists and drunken T2Vers.

I think I'm going to try and sleep again before I start rambling like a complete doofus.

Mikey