Hoisted By My Own Petard (sp?)

I just either
a. got out-played by someone who shouldn't out-play me
or
b. out-played myself
It was probably a bit of both but a lesser player would've won the pot.
Oh well....let's just call it 'an investment'.
(....and, before I could finish the paragraph, the chips come home to roost).

Nope. I'm not going to describe the hand in detail...just the feeling that my old friend Doc used to call "ears rushing forward" (poker equivalent of blushing).
I laid down the winner due to someone overplaying their underfullhouse (tm).
And so it goes.

Albert Einstein: A Modern Fable

When Albert Einstein died, he was met at the pearly gates by none other than St Peter hisownself.
"So glad to have you here, Dr. Einstein. We've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time."
"I must apologize, however, that the mansion where you will spend eternity is not quite finished and you will need to spend a few days with some other gentlemen. But they're all very nice", said St Peter. "I'm certain you'll have a very nice time."
"Not a problem", Einstein told him. "Let's go meet them".

So St Peter sheperded the good doctor into the common room of a very quaint condo.
Einstein went up to the first stranger. "Hi, my name is Albert Einstein. What's your IQ?"
"One hundred sixty-eight", said the stranger.
"Very good", said Einstein. "We'll be able to talk about particle physics, faster than light travel, relativity...we'll have a grand old time."
And Einstein went over to the second man.
"Hello, my name is Albert Einstein. What's your IQ?"
"141", said the man.
"Wonderful!", said Einstein. "We can discuss the Renaissance, the great works of Shakespeare....this will be a very nice time."
Then Einstein got up and went over to Stranger #3.
"Hello, my name is Albert Einstein. What's your IQ?"
"Duh....I really don't know", struggled the man. "Somebody once said it was.....umm... around seventy."
Einstein was puzzled.
"I'm not sure we have anything in common to talk about, my friend. Could you tell me a little about yourself?"
"Umm....well...uh....right before my heart attack, I had just....umm.... lost with Ace-Ace Deuce Trey double-suited...."

Small World: Special Guest Dept.

So I had to call Florida. My brother and I have been having some issues with Mom and I need to call the nurse just to tell her that we agree about treatment options.
When I hang up, the only guy I *don't* know at the table (I told you we have a lot of regulars) asks if I have a brother who's a musician.
I guess he heard me introduce myself on the phone and our last name is not exactly 'Smith' or 'Jones'. "Yes", I say, looking at him a bit quizzically. . "You know him??". "I'm a bass player...Billy.....from Austin.
"Yeah, we have a mutual friend...David Rice."
We've had people from all over the world at Table 30. But I'm pretty sure this is the first one who knows a (big) part of my family.
A fun day, overall, as our special guest immediately gets to see The Plumber in action.
Send me a postcard!!

You Can't Make This Sh*t Up (Part B.)

The game has barely started and I'm (almost) on tilt.
But DC The Plumber is here.... and at the top of his game. Not poker. DC plays loosey goosey and really doesn't seem to care that much whether he wins or not. And he's a philosopher of sorts. With some mannerisms that I couldn't describe if I tried.
Ben mentions that this kind of weather must be good for DC's business.
DC's retort: "I'd rather be pushing a pencil than a turd but..."
I wish he'd warn me before I SIP MY SCALDING HOT COFFEE!!!!
This guy's a trip. He's five foot nothing and can't way more than 120.
But he's not shy...at all. DC's mouth gets him in trouble. A lot.

Most of the regulars know him and just laugh at his antics but, once in awhile, there's a stranger at the table who takes him seriously.
"Get it fixed, bitch!", he tells the guy when he shows the winner.
The rest of the table laughs but this guy isn't having any of it.
"Maybe we should go outside for a minute" comes out of his mouth before I can tell him DC's harmless.
DC isn't phased at all that the guy's got him by 6 inches and fifty pounds.
"You feeling froggy? Jump!"
We're all laughing so hard by now that even the stranger can't stay mad.

Come say hi. I'll introduce you.
DC's a trip...or tripping. Depends on the day.

A True Sign Of The Apocalypse

We're here, playing our "normal" Omaha game. Eight players dealt in. Only seven of us call. The only one with the sense to fold?
Maurice.
I kid you not.
(For those of you that haven't played with us, it's 'normally' ...there's that word again....the other way around)

I'm Just Sayin'

Rick just announced that Roger got his cherry.



That's it.