Joe Speaker

Yesterday would have been my 7th wedding anniversary, a fact which did not occur to me until this morning. I suppose that can be taken as a sign of healing.

Or maybe it’s simply a reflection of how much fun I had at BettyFest.

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I am not a big fan of NASCAR. It’s not snobbery. It just doesn’t do anything for me. This is in sharp contrast to the thousands of brightly-hued, leather jacket-sporting denizens invading my sleepy suburban hamlet this weekend for the Something or Other 500 at California Speedway.

The track is close enough that you can hear the sound of revved engines on the breeze, the smell of conspicuous fuel consumption in the morning. There’s really only one solution: I’m going to Vegas.

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I played The Mookie tonight. Briefly.

Ran QQ into AA in about an orbit and a half, a fact which would usually make me shrug my shouders, mutter “bleeping cooler” to myself and move on. But really, I shoulda known, based on the action. (more…)

Life is like a potluck at work. You never know what kind of weird shit people think will appeal to the group at large.

Consider this post in the same vein.

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There was a time when I’d sprain an index finger running to the keyboard after being bad beaten by burros on the virtual felt.

Now, I just shrug my shoulders and talk about it a few days later.

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I’m currently of the mind I’d do it again if the exact same situation arose.

Anybody want to tell me why I shouldn’t?

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One of the best aspects of having a child is marking milestones with them, those important moments that make you realize your son is growing up. Baby’s first step. Baby’s first smile. Baby’s first successful bowel movement in the toilet.

Over the weekend, AJ took another step on the road to adolescence and beyond.

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Thursday saw me making another trip out to San Manuel Indian Casino. Or, as I call it: Waterloo.

Despite my scarring slow-roll experience last week playing 4/8, I again braved the elements–in the form of egregious use of Aqua Net–to tackle the low limits at the orange-felted room. The occasion was my young…well…young looking…protoge’s long-awaited return to The Pokah.

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It’s official. I’m a charity case.

My sad sack post yesterday moved Ken to transfer me sufficient funds to partake in the Hammer Day Blogger Tourney. It was an unexpected gesture that warmed my cockles, if I may take a walk on the prurient side of the street. His generosity put a hop in my step and despite my inital chagrin, I grabbed an early train home to regisiter in time. Every one of my Top Five poker memories involves playing with bloggers and I felt more than fortunate to do so tonight because of Ken’s kindness.

But I’ve buried the lede. Sorta.

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Forgive me Full Tilt for I have sinned. It’s been 14 days since my last online poker session.

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