Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Southern Fried Bubba

Sunday began less than perfect. I didn't wake up in Las Vegas with a wad of cash in my pocket. Instead, I was awakened by a distressing phone call from my maternal unit. Within thirty-eight seconds I was pissed off, ready to embark upon a belligerent spree of insanity, on the verge of tearing the ears of an adorable puppy and stealing the Meals on Wheels Van en route to the local nursing home and crashing it into the nearest Starbucks, sending dozens of hipsters sprawling for cover, with El Salvador Estate Pacamara coffee beans raining upon them in a storm of smooth, delicate flavors and a caramelly aroma.

In my frazzled state, I settled down for some relaxation therapy. That unfortunately made me late for brunch downtown. I ended up missing the subway by six seconds. The doors were open as I slid my Metrocard through the turnstile and a just few feet before I could reach the doors, they abruptly closed. I would have easily made the train if I hadn't gotten stuck on the stairs behind two fat women. They were taking forever and when I kinda cleared my throat to hint at them to move over so I can sneak by, they both slowed down. I've been playing a lot of poker and body language is everything. They gave off the vibe, "I'm fucking fat. I ain't moving my ass over for nobody. My thighs are chaffing for Christ's sake. So fuck you, Cracker!"

Because some New Yorker couldn't lick her high fructose corn syrup habit and Supersized herself into obesity, I was stuck on the platform for ten minutes until the next subway came. Thank God it had air conditioning. Sitting in the cool subway car was great until the Jesus Freaks hopped aboard, wearing their best clothes, clutching their bibles, and those intoxicating smiles. Yeah, the same smiles I see on coke fiends after they snorted a rail of Colombia flakes the size of John Holmes' junk. The subways on Sundays mornings in NYC were filled with happy Christians and an entire group of people coming home from service surrounded me. I got up from my seat and walked into one of the un-airconditioned cars. It was much hotter, border line unbearable, but sitting in a religious-free car was worth sweating my balls off.

Get Well Soon, Bubba

Everyone's favorite ex-President had heart surgery and I betcha that Hillary was hoping he'd bite it under the knife. It seems that three decades of junk food and hummers from interns with chubby ankles was too much for Bubba's ticker. His weakness for glazed donuts, double bacon cheeseburgers, and chasing tail around DC and Little Rock has finally caught up to him. I also heard he called John Kerry from his bedside and told him in blunt terms, "Stop talkin' about Vietnam, you dumbass!"

If only had Kerry's camp of elitist nimrods suggested the same thing two weeks earlier, he might have not dropped 10% in some polls. I wonder what Twinkle and Turquoise are up to these days? The First Twins raised hell in the city last week, and some A-listers metioned that they hadn't seen a set of twins and sisters party that hard since Mary-Kate actually snorted her entire weight in coke one gum numbing night.


I had a shot to win a seat in a poker tournament in Estonia via an online tournament on Party Poker. I admit, for the first time ever, I really didn't want to win first place. I've traveled a lot in the last year. After a long summer of being on the road and partying hard since last November, frankly, I'm exhausted. I was gunning for second place... $1600 instead of the trip. There were 41 players in the tournament and only the top 4 places paid prizes. First place got the all-expenses paid trip to Estonia. I played tentative the first hour and was knocked out in the fifth level and finished in an unimpressive 21st place.

I played a shitload of poker tournaments in the last two weeks. I forked up over $500 in tournament entry fees and only cashed out $300+ in prize money. However, I also won a seat in the World Speed Poker Championships (Estonia) which was valued at over $200. So I guess you can say, I broke even. It hasn't been a profitable start to September, after having the second best month this year in August at the tables.

Who's the Blind Kangaroo?

A friend of mine finished one of my novels recently. I'm always nervous talking to friends about my work. We spoke for a bit discussing different things. When she asked me a few questions, I realized that I hadn't read it since late December of last year and I don't have perfect recall over every word and every scene. I picked it up the other day and I was still impressed. Sometimes when bogged down into working on a project, I lose sight of the quality of the content. After some time and distance away, it's easier to have a better perspective on my work.

Looking back, I am amazed at the decisions I took when just tweaking one or two bits could change the entire voice of the novel. I wasn't afraid to make decisions and that's why I finished it so quickly. The hard part is going back and deciding what works and what doesn't work. If I could only understand my life as much as I had a grasp of writing, then I'd have a lot more fun and worry a lot less about the decisions I made.

Recent Writing Music...
1. Widespread Panic
2. Stanton Moore
3. Thelonius Monk
4. Old and In the Way
5. Billie Holiday

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