Monday, November 23, 2009

Oh Dear God What a Boring Post.

Re-reading last night's post (the one directly below this one) in the light of day is certainly a humbling experience. Good lord, what a hot mess. It's clear that I was both extremely tired and extremely bored when I wrote it. My apologies for making y'all suffer through that on a Monday morning. If I could refund your time, I would.

I suppose that this morning's coffee has given me a clarity of mind that I didn't have last night. (By the way, have y'all tried that peppermint mocha creamer? It's damn good!).

Anyhow, I'm thinking of revising my code (it's more like guidelines, anyways) about not using the heater because I live in the desert. I use the heater in my truck all the time, and as far as the home heater goes, it shouldn't be about the money because I've never been accused of being a cheapass. Maybe it's just the principle of the thing. But the last two nights, I've been curled up under a blanket in the corner of my sectional, watching TV for hours on end when I couldn't sleep. And if y'all remember the pictures of my living room, there are two windows right there in the corner, too.

So while I was lying there last night, I could literally feel the cold air creeping in and washing over my face, like the fog of death and destruction from so many scary movies. But I'm one of those people who likes to sleep in a cold room under a pile of blankets, so it didn't bother me too much at the time. However, waking up with the sniffles this morning has caused me to re-think my whole no-heater philosophy. That, and maybe I should do something to seal the obvious gaps in my living room window sashes.

On the other hand, a pot of hot coffee and a dose of Zycam has made me feel whole again, so I'll probably do nothing about it and learn my lesson the hard way.

Oh--remember my rant from a couple of weeks ago when I was so pissed at ESPN and Cox Cable for denying me the opportunity to see the last half-hour of the final table at the World Series of Poker? Well, last night, I'd gone to bed early, but once I realized I was wide awake, I got back up and went back out to the living room to watch some late-night TV. As I was scanning through the channels, I landed on ESPN2, and saw that they were re-broadcasting the final table match-up, and I'd just stumbled in to the point about a minute and a half before the recording cut off. Nice--and looking at the clock, I saw that it was the bottom of the hour, so I knew I'd finally be able to see how the thing went down.

Of course, about twenty minutes later, with maybe ten minutes left in the broadcast, the damned cable went out. I shiat you not--suddenly I was watching nothing but a screen full of gray static, presented in beautiful 1040i High Definition.

I was so f*cking pissed at that moment that had I been independently wealthy or still watching my old TV, I would've chucked the remote through the screen. Instead, I just said some very bad things about the people at Cox Cable--something, I believe, about what they do with their mothers...

After the initial burst of anger, I spent about a minute or two rebooting the cable box, and that seemed to do the trick, and as it turned out, all I missed were a couple of the insufferable commercials that they play over and over on the Worldwide Leader of lame advertising (the Evil Empire, messin' with Sasquatch, etc). It came back on just in time for me to see Darvin Moon get hyper-aggresive at exactly the wrong time and lose it all to Tony Romo's little brother.

Seriously, has there ever been a more-lucky and less-deserving champion? Maybe Jamie Gold, but damn, after watching that, I felt like the two worst players at the final table lasted the longest. I know that there is a huge luck factor involved whenever you play hold-em, (believe me--I'm one of those people who swears that whenever I win, it's due to skill, and whenever I lose, it's due to bad luck!), but it seemed to be way out of proportion this time around. Skill, apparently, took a back seat this year.

But who am I to complain? I just came down from one of the luckiest runs I've ever had, so I know what it feels like to be running better than I should. Still, four grand is a long way from eight-and-a-half million, and even though only a handful of people saw it happen, it was nice to get a taste of what it's like to be amazingly lucky at the poker table.

Now if I could only transfer some of that out into the real world, I'd be set...


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