In Limbo, Sort Of

By Pauly
Los Angeles, CA

I'm not dead. Neither is this blog. I'm in the middle of a two-week binge of poker-related work/writing that has my mind and creative energies pulled away from this space. Believe me, this is my favorite corner of the interwebs and it kills me that I don't update this space as much as I'd like. It's been tough -- I spent all of October on the road following Phish and barely wrote. Whatever content here was cross-posted recaps that I wrote on Phish tour and originated from Coventry. I spent last week in Las Vegas covering the final table of the WSOP Main Event, otherwise known as the November Nine. And this week, I'm covering a tournament in LA -- but I'm still bogged down with finishing up freelance pieces. Hopefully in a few days, I can return to regularly schedule programming. I have plenty to say, but not enough time to say it. Besides, I've been going through a bit of a rough patch work-wise and it's better that I keep my mouth shut and not vent too much in a public forum. As the saying goes, if you can't say anything nice -- say nothing at all. Right now, I got nothing to say. The list of people and companies who pissed me off over the last few weeks and months has grown immensely. Some days I consider just outing all the assholes and retards in my life and posting a list of fucktards, shitstains, and other small-penises liars out there -- but what good is that? I should just cut the passive-aggro bullshit, man up, and start kicking the shit out of those assholes instead of whining about them.

Anyway, I got one more week of crazy left before I can relax and jack off in this space. Then I'm done with work and poker for the rest of the year and can focus on reading books, writing fiction, and scribbling down half-baked posts in this space. If you haven't figured out by now, I'm at another one of those crossroads where I have no clue where to go, but I'm not thrilled with where I've been, who I've been fucked over by, and have no desire to return to the road I've been driving on the last few years. Shit, all I want to do is write, but sometimes doing what you love the most becomes utterly complicated. I hope to elaborate more in a future post, or twelve.

One thing is for sure -- I can't wait to sit down and re-work the final draft of Jack Tripper Stole My Dog. I'm gonna publish my first novel sometime in the next six months.