What a lovely hand!

So I am sitting in Rivers Casino, minding my own business when lo and behold, the generous poker dealer decides to give me AA from under the gun. I wanted to thank the gentleman right then and there but I didn’t think it would be appropriate. Instead, I put my head down and nudged three $5.00 chips into the middle of the pot. Wouldn’t you know it? The gratuitous neighbor on my left decides to contribute $30.00 to the Grayday fund. How thoughtful of him.

I was in disbelief when my friend two doors down, then proceeded to give his WHOLE savings to the Grayday fund in the amount of $180.00. “Thank you sir, you are very kind and the donation will be put to good use. God bless”

When the action came to me, I felt obligated to show my commitment to this good cause and matched all donations for another $180.00. There are some very devotional people in this world and I am blessed to come into their presence.

My first neighbor then decides to reciprocate and put’s HIS whole savings into the basket in the amount of another $160.00. “You are a gentleman and a scholar. Your good deeds will not go unnoticed”.

My philanthropic friends then tabled their cards in which I will now present in picture form from that glorious day.

“I just want to thank my ex-wife and kids I never had, for if it wasn’t for you, I would never have made it here to this glorious day. I also want to thank the publishers of “Poker for Duhmies” for your determination in teaching me hand rankings. I also want to thank the Cerveceria Modelo brewery for producing their line of Corona Extra beverages. It is your commitment to this brand that enabled me to grind through incredibly long sessions at a table without getting discouraged. Thanks again and God bless you all!”

...and then the unthinkable happened. The sky grew dark, the clouds rolled in and my arm hair stood up as I peered at the exposed community cards in front of my very eyes.

I will now present this dreadful experience with a picture from that horrific day…

“You fucking pieces of shits! You ass lucky, fuck tard losers. Fuck you too dealer you duchebag! I hate you Pittsburg feygits and you all smell like shit! Idiot, returd, dick fuks! I’m outa here! Fuck off!”

I need to find a costume.

I don’t need a costume for Halloween, you duhmies! I need one to wear in the new cardroom. You see, the second those doors fly open in the new casino, my fukin’ boss is going to be on me like a fuktard on a flush draw! I will need to come up with a kick ass disguise that will fool everyone, even better than the one Phil Laak wore at the 2008 WSOP main event. But that’s only the beginning of my problems.

There is no way in hell I’m going to be able to park my girl magnet, F-150 in the casino garage. No F’n way! That’s the first thing my boss is going to look for. Not only will I need to park offsite, I will have to keep it moving because of the GPS device that is surely to be attached. However, I got a plan. I’m going to loan my truck out to a pizza delivery boy while I play cards and have them return it at the end of their shift. My boss will think I’m working my ass off after he see’s all the stops my truck makes in a day. I just pray that the junk tard device doesn’t specify residential versus commercial addresses.

 My phone might be rigged as well. I guess pizza boy will just have to take it with him and then let me know every time my fukin’ boss calls. I just gotta remember to dial *69 when returning his call from the poker room desk or I will be up shit creek.

 Let’s see, what else? Oh ya. What about running into my deadbeat customers while I’m playing poker? I’m sure to see some of those fuckers when it rains or snows because they won’t be able to work construction on those days. When that happens, I guarantee they will give me up the next time in our store faster than a mafia rat on the FBI payroll. Fuck me.

If I can’t find a good costume, I can always hire Meats to be my lookout while I play at one of the far back tables. If he see’s my boss coming, he can give me a heads up via text so I can hide under the table until he leaves. There is only one problem with that. What are the fucking chances Meats stays at his station the whole time? As far as running into customers, Meats could be my muscle and threaten them with bodily harm if they snitch on me. I just haven’t seen Meat’s “intimidation face” as of yet so that is left up to the jury as well.

 You see, there are still a lot of fucking details to work out so I can play in the new casino during business hours. It’s not easy blowing off work.

Poker Talk for Duhmies

Do you ever find yourself in a conversation with somebody who has no idea about poker but wants to talk about it anyway in order to attempt at sounding intelligent? It usually goes something like this…

“So, Jeffery…how is the poker going?”

 “good”

 “Are you making any money?”

 “ya”

“Are we going to see you on T.V. when they show that big tournament?”

“Probably. Can you please shut the fuck up or should we change the topic and talk about your wandering eye?”

 It’s always the most retardedest conversations that never have a purpose nor a conclusion.

I love family get togethers when my relatives or one of my four sisters corner me almost immediately like an FBI agent would do.

 “Hi Jeffy, you look like your gaining weight”

“It’s the alcohol. It makes me bloated, bitches love it.”

“Oh. How is work?”

“My boss is a fucking asshole.”

“Sorry to hear about that. Are you still gambling?”

 “Pretty much every time I pick up a hooker”

 I also hang out with college buddies from time to time and they can be the biggest pricks when it comes to not understanding poker because they always want to challenge you.

“Homer, I’ll kick your ass in a game of hold’em. How much do you want to bet? Does $10.00 sound good?”

“No, it doesn’t sound good you fuck tard. I tip the server broad ten dollars every time she brings me a Corona. I spray cologne on ten dollar bills and use them as sanitary napkins when my hands are dirty. Does $300.00 sound good to you pal?”