BOOZEVILLE, USA – Thursday night I got drunk. It was the end of a long day (actually a long two weeks), and it was also my birthday. So I went out, had a nice, overpriced dinner and then came home to host a poker game until 2:30 in the morning.
The night started with a martini, included beer, fernet branca, and schnapps – the real kind from Germany, 80 proof. It ended with some ten year old scotch. Got about five hours of sleep and it feels like there’s a mule in my head trying to kick down the walls. I’m bleary-eyed in front of the computer, dashing out this piece of high literature for your entertainment pleasure, and then I’m off to the airport. I have a 1 PM flight to Vegas, gonna catch up with some old Nebraska friends, including one who’s turning 50.
The night was a hoot and I had a great time from start to finish, though it didn’t go well financially. My end of dinner was a buck and a quarter, I dropped nearly 30 at the game (which I showed up to and hour and a half late even though it was in my house), and for the first time in the three-plus year history of this game the kitty came up short. To top it all off, the money I’d won a few weeks back when Detroit shellacked Tim Tebow’s Broncos? Lost it all by letting it ride on the Jets.
F!@#$ Jets.
But if you gotta choose between having a great time and loosing money, or winning money and hating your life, it’s a no-brainer for me. So as I prepare to board that big old jet airplane and head off to Sin City, leaving behind a geriatric cat and several empty bottles of booze, I do so with no regrets about the money I will undoubtedly lose. The house odds are stacked against me, I’m not terribly bright, and my pocket’s got a hole in it.
But hell with it. I’m gonna have a good time and they can’t stop me.
Wait . . . it’s coming back to me now . . . I think I tried to make the case that the JoPa Riot at Penn State was a minor league version of people supporting Hitler and the Nazis in Germany. No one was buying it. I guess I’ll have to save that for the next blog.
Alright, I’m out of here, hangover in tow. Have a great weekend and try to lose less than me.
Tomorrow, a more sober – barely – Cheesy Bruin takes the spotlight. Hopefully it won’t burn his eyes like it does mine.
