Today, please join me sparking a freshie in honor of one of New York City and the blogosphere's finest writers. I think I can safely speak for all of your friends when I say that we're better for knowing you (even though you are one of the worst proposition bettors in the western world) and that your words touch us and make us laugh every day. Happy 34th, Dr. Pauly. I hope it's a good one!
Otis left this weirdo comment yesterday and for hours I went around just thinking that he had seriously lost his mind after watching something like 467 hours of WCOOP tournaments this week for the Pokerstars blog. That is, until I read through my own Bloglines folder and noticed his post on Up for Poker about his budding poker novel (awesome?). He left pieces of the intro, trail-of-breadcrumbs style in various bloggers' comments. Pretty clever for a redneck, that Otis. Anyway, the story kicks ass and I suggest you go follow the yellow brick road and read it for yourself. It begins here.
So I'm pulling out of a driveway on Fairfax today, trying to make a right turn without getting killed by the steady stream of oncoming traffic. Between the parked cars, the left-lane gridlock, the assholes trying to zip around the gridlock, and the big-ass Metro Bus stopped on the corner, I couldn't see shit. So I was waiting it out until the light changed. That is, until the face of a deranged homeless man appeared TWO INCHES FROM MY CAR WINDOW, which was rolled down.
"Why don't you just drive, bitch? Huh! Just go! Huh!" screamed the homeless man. He was literally about to come through my window. Here, in the middle of Fairfax Avenue, in rush hour traffic.
"THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU CRAZY MAN, BACK THE FUCK OFF!" I barked in reply. My icy blue eyes bore into his and my hand reflexively locked the door. The driver's side window was notoriously sticky and getting that up would require two hands and a lot more time than I had to get this freak away from me. Yes, everything is broken in my car. Even the things that crank up the windows and the right-side speakers.
Thankfully the light changed and I was able to pull away unscathed. The homeless man quickly lost interest in me as I sat in traffic a quarter-block away and he decided instead to harass some people at the Metro Bus stop.
Lunatics are just drawn to me, I suppose.
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5 comments:
Lunatics are just drawn to me, I suppose.
Well, that explains why you're hanging out with poker bloggers. Thanks for clearing that up.
You have blue eyes?
Thanks for the b-day greetings!
I'm not sure if you led them to me, but PokerBlogs is going to start advertising on my site. If you did, thanks, and if not, thanks for the frequent postings.
"Lunatics are just drawn to me, I suppose."
No wonder I read you religously.
Just call this the lunatic roll call post.
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