Friday, February 17, 2006

Cards, Thugs and the Gas Man

Before I start, I want to make sure you all can keep a secret. Surrisly, this shit is on the DL. If you tell anyone, I'm going to have my kneecaps broken and my bank account emptied. We good? Alright, cool.

As some of you may know, I have somewhat of an addiction to Windows Solitaire - particularly the Vegas Style (I use the fish cards, but if anyone knows of a way to get "special" cards with pictures of ladies, let me know). I knew my addiction was bad, but last weekend I started keeping track of how much I win (ha ha, you never win) and lose. Keep in mind that I play for about 20 minutes a day before bed; I'm down over a grand already.

I'm not sure who comes to collect said losings, but I doubt he wears a white suit and has manicured fingernails. Nope, Lou Vegas and Bill Gates would send their most powerful thugs over if they knew the cash they could be taking from me. And since my deadbolt is sure to be broken soon (see Cabinets and Catfights) there'd be nothing in their way. Armed only with a small fire extinguisher, I'd be no match for their burly advances.

No, not those advances.

Second item of interest:

Last night, during a rowdy game of Euchre it came up that we really needed to solidify the spelling of Placatan. I play with the same people all of the time, and we have everything hammered out to the minutest detail. Something like a typographical misunderstanding could hold a game up for hours so, not wanting to waste any time, I whipped out the mobile and called up Dom on his mobile. I put that bitch (the mobile, not Dom) on speakerphone and got the official spelling, complete with accents. Pee - elle - ay - see - ay - tee - ay (accent on the ay) - en. Now, when you Euchre someone, you slam the defining card (or cards) on the table and holler "PlacaTAN!". This way everyone knows it was a Euchre and who was the resposible individual.

Big ups to Dom!

In other news, we were discussing work the other day. Not so much the work part, but just talk of the workplace. HECOW, in a bragging tone, declared that he didn't really work for anyone and had in fact "slipped through the cracks". To this, he added "I'm a gas". A pause for pontification while everyone did the math in his respective head and we all came to the same conclusion. HECOW was a gas who slipped through the cracks. I'll give you a second to work it out for yourself.

Yup, HECOW is a fart incarnate. PlacaTAN! Take that emmer effer.

Pimpin hoes slammin Subaru dohs,
Old Coot

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"Something inside of me just said 'Hey, wait a minute, I want to beat him.' and I just took off." -Pre