Yeah I have been hit hard with many realities this weekend, and none of them I am happy about! The most obvious one... Monday always follows Sunday. What a harsh sucky reality that is to come to grips with.
Come on... you have to put this into context because prior to this, to me, there was no difference in days of the week. When you are an 8 to 5 slob, like I am now, (Sorry to those of you have have always punched a time clock and do your work during set hours of the day. Nothing wrong with it... it is just not for me. I have always been one to enjoy what you do, and get that job done whether it took you an hour or 14. It is all about enjoying what you do. That is a job, and not work.) you come to realize that Monday is the beginning of 5 consecutively tedious days in a row. There is no pleasure, only pain. The pain of waking up at 3:00, 3:24, 4:02, 4:18, 4:35, 4:57 and 4:59 to check the clock and turn off the alarm before it goes off at 5:00, the 500 mile weekly commute during peak traffic hours, dealing with problematic simpletons for 9 hours a day who can't even master remembering a password from week to week, (The following is the part I mind the least because at least I am home. There is beer there to help cure what ails me. Nothing list sympathy in a bottle. The liquid memory eraser. An ice cold... sorry. I am making this about loved ones, and not my left field points you have come to enjoy. Oh yeah, the family is there too.) helping with homework while I try to piecemeal together a decent meal out of what I can find in the house, get the girls to bed so we can try and have a few minutes to ourselves before crashing in bed to start my adventure all over again the next day, (Come on... to watch TV and catch up on the 4 weeks worth of shows I have yet to watch, not THAT! Don't go getting all nervous and excited for me.) turn on Facebook to see that one of my many asshole friends has already commented on the show I am trying to watch so I already know what in the hell is going to happen, and then I go cry myself to sleep. I know you are jealous.
Sorry I am a little punchy today. I was up with Thunder at 3am doing a breathing treatment because she was starting to wheeze and cough, and could not go back to sleep after she was done. So I am not quite sure if this should be a Random Rant, or just another post. Screw it. I am already here. It is a post. Still going to rant though so be warned.
There are some new additions to The who's who. I don't like any of them, so don't get too excited to find yourself there at this point!
So the weekend started off in glorious fashion with a brisk 2 hour drive home on Friday night, and I should have known this was the sign of things to come. After all it was another reality of my life that I once again have come to grips with this weekend. They will give any dip shit a drivers license and I have to accept that. Reality... check. Went over to Turbo's because Rocco and Auntie were leaving in the morning to head back to Vegas so we wanted to hang out one more night before they headed home. Had some good food, a few drinks (Odd I know.), watched them pack up the car and home to bed for a good night sleep.
Little Miss is up at 2 roaming the halls, Thunder is up at 5 sounding like a squeeze toy with each breath and I feel like the heater is on in the house sweating bullets for some reason. That was some restful sleep, let me tell you! I got up and got her a breathing treatment and was awake at that point so I just went downstairs to play some poker on the computer. After all I was going a friend's house that night to play some cards, so it might not be a bad idea to see a few hands. Thunder comes down 15 mins later and hangs out with me once she is done with her treatment. Little Miss joins us about 7:30 for a full blown morning of Disney channel, poker and Webkinz in the living room. By 8am I have mixed in a mimosa for myself and egg sandwiches for the girls. Only in America can a food and entertainment combo like this exist. **OK Influenza is over there talking on her phone and sneezing at the same time. Nothing new except the fact that she tried to plug her nose when she sneezed and it sounded like a balloon with a leak! I am sure she has snot all over her fingers as well because the leaking balloon sounded like a person with a saliva problem blew it up. I can just picture her over the with one hand pinching her nose and popping snot bubbles with the other as she entertains herself!! AHAHAHA** Checked my Mega numbers and saw that there was no winner. Verified there had been no deposits to my checking account from the Lotto office so I will be back in Oakland on Monday for work. Reality.... check.
That afternoon all the girls went to do some shopping and I had run over to Turbo's to make some seafood Thai soup that I have been wanting to try. Not bad for my first go round, but I have some ideas to make it better next time for sure. I started making some Zuppa Toscona as well, but left to go play cards with the boys and Hunny finished it up with me. (Had a little taste of that one yesterday and she did a kick ass job because it was off the hook!) Drove over to Ass Clown's house and road over with him to Ducky's. After Ass Clown realized that Ducky's poker chips were still at my house from one of our poker fundraisers we called Silent but deadly to go back home and grab his chips before coming over. Not 10 minutes later Ducky says, "I hope he's got cards too." Are you shitting me? Glad you are only planning this poker game out and not the next battle plan for the war on terrorism! "OK. Did anyone bring those pictures of those bearded guys getting out of the shower that they wanted us to find? Wow. Are you sure these are them? Do they look all the same to you? Oh wait this guy has glasses. OK team, listen up. Look for a guy with a white sheet wrapped on his head, huh... they use sheets not towels. And they call us dumb? As I was saying, a black beard, wearing a another white sheet as a dress, dark skinned, and most importantly a pair of glasses. The glasses are a dead giveaway as it appears that no one else in this country wears them. No, really... look. None of these other guys in the pictures are wearing glasses. See I told you. So, shot on site. *BANG* Hmmm... nope. That's not him. OK... plan B. Hmmm.... I got nothing."
Sorry for my little detour there. So Ducky texts Silent but deadly **Another sneeze whistle. I don't know whether I should say bless you, or look for an oncoming train!** and tells him to grab some cards if he does not have any. Well luck for him he just happened to be at Hooter's at the time so he picked up a deck of their playing cards. Big mistake!! **Gross! Now a big wet reverse snort as she sucked the snot back in. Ewww!** We open the deck to a windfall of kinda sorta bikini wearing young ladies that have their fathers in a deep depression thinking about their male "friends" use them as slip 'n slides I am sure.
OK another quick left turn for my weekend full of realities here. I have never been an ultra competitive person. I enjoy a good competition and am I not a fan of loosing, but I have never been one to just piss and moan if I lost at something. (For all of you laughing right now... up yours... I was much younger then!) Nor have I sat there and bragged until your ears bled if I won. OK... maybe once in a while, but you deserved it! What I have come to realize is that ever since all of this Toner Boy life hit me, I have the attention span of a gnat and I find myself focusing less and less on coming out on top when I do things. Hell on top, bottom, the side, from behind, over the shoulder... as long as I am com....eeee... Oops. Sorry. But I really have no killer instinct at all these days and I can almost see how places like this, turn people into... well... people like this. So, GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE! I am being serious! At this point I will be a female fluffer after she's given up sloppy seconds to a mule! At least after I work on my gag reflex I would be having more fun than I am having here. Hook a brotha up! See... attention span of a gnat. Back to our hero... So I had this epiphany during our card game that I need to apply to my life. Not going to say what it is, but after dwelling on it for a day yesterday, (You know sort of facing the fears of what got me here, and in part changed how I treat things in turn keeping me here. Blah, blah, blah.) I have decided to that from this point on make some changes. I will let you all know what the results of these little changes are down the road. (Like any of you give a rats ass. "Just make me laugh little drummer boy!" AHAHAHA) Could be what the doctor ordered, or it could be a train wreck of epic proportions. But once again, it was... Reality... check.
Back to cards. Now this is no high stakes blood game, but still money is money these days, and it is not like any of us are living high on the hog right now. I used to go over and play cards with these guys all of the time and never walked away with less money than I had come with. These fuckers were beating on me like a drum! Sure some of it was just catching cards, but I got my ass outplayed and worked for 3 hours by these guys. Every dog has their day I know, but this has been going on for over a year now. Ducky has a challenging enough time spreading peanut butter on his bread, let alone be able to treat me like a bitch playing cards. I am not saying that he is dumb, but a Doc Holliday at the card table he is not. The first game Ass Clown once again wins the pot and I get my money back coming in second. After getting just sexually abused in the second game by Ass Clown after calling my sizeable A-Q suited pre-flop raise with his 3-5 off suite, (Yes 3-5 off suite!) he hits two pair on the flop and I catch top pair with my aces as the flop is 5-3-A. He goes all in and I call and then hits his boat on 4th street with another 5 and I got so pissed I just picked up the board and mucked my cards. About 4 seconds after I did this and everyone was having a great laugh at what just took place as he hit a boat and beat me playing those cards, I realized that I still had 2 outs that I could have hit on the river with the remaining two aces. I was not about to say anything at the time because laughter would have turned to ridicule and I was already on melt down tilt!
After cleaning my blood of off his shank (No not his parapet!) he finishes me off by hitting a miracle card on the river, and CALLS IT before it comes out. He just sticks it in and breaks it off this time. I was the asshole dealing both of these hands so I had no one to blame for the cards that were dealt but myself. So I sit and fester like an open wound while they finish out the 2nd game. Flashback to my moment of enlightenment. Insert moment here. I don't cash in the last game, but I played cards a hell of a lot better than I had all night with nothing more than rags most every hand. Ass Clown got knocked out first and that was all the satisfaction I needed not to jump from his truck on the freeway during the ride home. So down $40 bucks, up a slight buzz, (Go figure?) up a $25 Subway gift card that Ducky gave me before this beat down commenced out of the goodness of his heart and not pitty, and lastly something for me to think about we headed home. Ass Clown has sort of become my Lex Luthor in many ways over the last few years. Not to say that I am like some freaking Adonis with the Midas touch and the only way I lose is if I beat myself, (Too good not to be a pun.) but it seems no matter what we do anymore I am just his redheaded stepchild! Golf, bowling, poker. Hell even his wife has said he is servicing her better than me these days! I mean she said it was always close, because he had some of his left handed tricks that I could not pull off, but this was the last straw. Enough is enough. If you don't put the effort in, you don't get the results out. Reality... check.
I had a hell of a lot more, and it is only Saturday night at this point but my eyes are playing ping pong inside my empty head! I will wrap this up when my brain starts working again in a day or so. Going to finish my rum and Dr. Pepper and plant my face in a nice supple and welcoming mound of.... p... illow. Gotcha.
Toner Boy
1 comment:
awww....sorry Gene
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