Limpy sbo Gimpy


I had to stop at the S&K; on the way to work. We have this giant rear screen projector as part of the new fake-TV set, and I have to wear a sportcoat that fits. For a good year or two I had my weight totally under control, but as is usually the case, I lost focus and gained pounds. In my job things like weight and hairstyle, the dimple in my tie and the fuzzballs on my coat, are under constant scrutiny. My General Manager is the undisputed KING of dapper dressers and last week he called me into his office for a momumental chat.

Just moments before my last workday of the week, before a short vacation and knee surgery, he stopped me in the hall and said, “Make sure you come to my office before you leave today, we need to talk about something important.”

Later that same day he asked again, in the way that any boss actually ASKS for anything, “Don’t forget, you can’t leave today without talking to me first.”

So after my story was written, and all preparations were made, I visited the plush corner office ready for, at best, a dressing down. I couldn’t think of anything I’d done wrong, but the first words out his mouth were these, “I hope you know I DO like you,” he said, before turning to actually face me, “but you may take this the wrong way.”


I suppose most of my life has been as unfocused as my writing. Every effort begins with a too-ambitious goal, obtainable only by too-strenuous determination, which I always half-accomplish. I’m actually struggling to complete this line of thought. I’ve been swept into a chat with TV’S Marc about Hurricane Katrina. I’ll probably finish this post in a late night haste that comes from the frustration of another unfishished desire.

Every semester of my college career fell into that peak, rut, valley rhythm. I remember one semester, probably my junior year, when I’d grown so frustrated with my inability to actually SHOW UP for class, I punished myself with an impossible schedule. Each day of the week my first class started at 8AM which, I thought, would sbo FORCE me to focus.

I went to class for an entire 5 day week. I gathered up the syllabus for every course. Then, I went on tour with Phish. I think I got a 2.5 GPA that semester, which is more a tribute to my choice of major (Philosophy) than my actual IQ. It’s as if every failure in my life sets the stage for even greater ambition, a personal redemption, that can only disapoint me more.

My intorduction to online poker took a similar course.


I’d been over a year with DISH NETWORK which, as promised, gave the same channels as the unbearable Charter Cable for a much lower price. But one afternoon, a severe storm knocked that dish slightly off line. My wife actually climbed onto the roof, while fat ol’ me just held the ladder, but we coudn’t jam that pecker back online.

When I called the complany for a quickie repair they quoted me a one time price, of $200.00. That’s right. $200.00.

I canceled the service and went back to cable.

So when I signed up for evil Charter, I got the whole ball of wax, including the high-speed cable modem. It’s kind of amazing, after years of dialup service, to see how much faster life moves. I was so excited, I did something I hadn’t done since I got the THRILLER album for Christmas, I called my friends to brag. That’s when it all started.

“I got one of those cable modems,” I said to Otis.

“Cool. Now you can play poker online,” he said.

The truth is, Otis couldn’t wait for me to take a stab at internet gaming. He’d FINALLY found something he could do better than me. But with nearly 2 dozen Drunk-a-lympics victories, a thousand FROLF wins, and a vastly superior fake TV voice, I knew I could hunt him down.

Speaking of Fake-TV…


When I met my wife, in 1994, I was still a dirty college bum. At the time, I owned just one pair of khaki shorts and they hadn’t been washed in months. She didn’t mind because I had, and still have, a fantastic head of hair. Still, I’ve never been known as a fashoinable lad.

My GM hates that. I’ve actually seen him engage a co-worker in a 10 minute chat, that never wandered from a single message…the appropriate size and shape of the dimple in your tie. The man loves his wardrobe.

So here I was, about to go on vacation, when he warns me about the news which I, “may take the wrong way.”

“You see that bag, over on the chair,” he said, motioning to one of a dozen padded leather chairs in his overstuffed office. “Take a look inside.”

That plastic shopping bag was filled to the rim with brand new ties.

“Would you like to tie me up with some of your ties, TY?” I thought.

“Well,” he stammered, “its just that many of your ties don’t work. I’d like to give you some of mine. From now on, just wear the ties I give you.”


So just hours after my new connection was hooked up and humming, I was logged into Party Poker. I dropped $100 into the GRobman account, and started in at a NL$100 table. Why risk the whole bankroll in one stupid gamble? Because Otis could do it, and I’m sure I’m at least that good.

So, just hours after my new connection was hooked up and humming, I put a SECOND deposit on Party Poker and moved to the little limits. Still, I was sure I’d make a profit soon. I set these goals for myself :

1) Make a profit by the end of the week.

2) Make a larger profit than Otis by the end of the year.

3) Make certain Otis is aware of my larger profit.

Needless to say, but said anyway, these goals were a tad overambitious.


I’m wearing the new blue blazer I bought at S&K.; I covers my ENTIRE GUT. EXCELLENT!

I’ve gone with a white shirt and a pink tie that has small blue circles on it. The GM will love it. Its his.

My knee still hurts but I haven’t had a Loritab all day.

I’m back on Weight Watchers.

I’ve turned a profit online. It took a long, long, long time. Truth be told, I’ve been fairly sucessful for several months now, but I’d dug such an enormous hole at first it took a great deal of time and effort to crawl out. I’ve shown a significant profit in live play for better than a year, but this latest achievement allows me to put a big check mark by online poker goal #1.

By my math, because it took me this long to achieve a one week goal, I still have another 5-10 years to surpass the Otis roll. I can promise you, goal 3 will take fewer than 30 seconds to accomplish once #2 is done. I just hope I HAVE 10 years to catch up.

Life is short.

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