Pilates Poker

Last year on my 30th birthday I gifted myself some new work pants, because all the clothes I used to wear when I was clerking had “shrunk in the wash” and hurt me because they were so tight.  These new pants were so loose, I actually had to wear a belt.  It was glorious.

Then I didn’t have to wear a belt anymore, because they were not really so loose anymore, but I wore a belt anyway, just for show.

Now I have come full circle, and the belt is no longer just for show.  I need that belt because it keeps the pants from exploding.  But there is no way I am buying new pants.  Not again.  Not because I am so determined to keep my 20-something body forever, I have totally given up that fantasy, but because I am too damn cheap to buy new clothes.  Hell I’m too cheap to play more than $10 buy-in poker.  My firm friends laugh at me because I play such low stakes, and I always say well we play with current clerks and government attorneys and they don’t really make as much money and it’s a friendly game and that’s the reason the buy-in is so low.  False.

But I digress. Enter pilates.

An email circulated around my firm that DLA Piper sponsors a pilates class in my building every Wednesday, and my firm is invited.  And I thought, sure, let’s give it a try.  I need to find ways to integrate more exercise and less nachos into my fat ass daily routine.

I arrived at the pilates class late, of course, and everyone was already doing the workout.  By everyone, I mean a handful of senior citizen women.  By workout, I mean sitting on a mat doing what appeared to be absolutely nothing. Well this is going to be so easy it will hardly be worth my time.  False.

The instructor told me to join them in reclining halfway in a very unnatural position, and then to lift my body off the mat in the shape of a V.  I replied that I would do no such thing.  When she asked why, I very reasonably explained, “because there is gravity and I have bones and shit.”  She did not seem to understand.  “I am a science person and I can tell you that what you are suggesting defies physics and biology.”  She proceeded to demonstrate some sort of levitation that I think I saw in a Harry Potter movie, followed by what I believe was her impression of cat grooming its inner thigh.

After an hour of sitting very still in the dozen most uncomfortable positions ever devised, I am ready for some booze.  All of my muscles are thoroughly destroyed.  I am not leaving my house.  Bring doritos.  [——–], poker start time 8pm, RSVP because if you don’t I will make you do pilates.


Don’t Be Sad Poker

Goodman is in Philly to see a motivational speaker for real estate agents.  I am performing in a choreographed disco at the Atlas.  Neither of those is a joke.  Well, actually they are both kind of jokes, but I mean the statements are both true.  So our house is not available for pokings.  Does someone else want to take the reins for hosting? If someone steps up, I shall pass the torch to him/her.  If not, then we will just have to see everyone next week.

Don’t be sad.  Here is a picture of a unicorn eating rainbow ice cream:

You’re welcome.

Silver Fox Poker

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.  It is no mystery; it is no controversy; I love Judge Plager.  And being away from the court has only heightened my fandom.  For most of you that were not in 201 this morning, let me tell you, the Silver Fox was ON FIRE today.  Puns that would make Judge Lourie furious with envy, zingers that humbled even the douchiest of counsel, it was like Sean Connery and Columbo merged into a single scintillating geriatric wonderman.
It was the bright spot in what is otherwise a gross and miserable day.  The federal government is closed, schools are closed, many local establishments are closed too.  What do you call the weather we are having?  It’s kinda cold, kinda windy, kinda raining, kinda snowing for a bit, kinda slushy at times.  Basically, the meterological name for this weather is “shitty.”  It’s not an actual weather “event,” like a stow storm or a hurricane, that might justify sane people mobbing Safeway last night and boarding themselves in their houses this morning.  There was simply the general consensus that today was going to be a shitty day and our entire nation’s capitol just said “fuck it I’m not getting dressed.”
Except, of course, the Federal Circuit.  Which is why Judge Rader had the opportunity to pwn Matt Dowd for the entertainment of the entire population of some south Asian country.  And it was also why the Silver Fox had the opportunity to pwn a dawdling advocate that was taking forever to set up his notecards, “counsel, it’s snowing outside, what the hell are you doing?” (I’m paraphrasing, but it really was that awesome.)  Most 83-year old men complain about shitty weather because it makes their trick knee ache and their lower back lock up.  Judge Plager doesn’t like it because it means his afternoon 5k run isn’t as pleasant.
Ok enough gushing.  POKER.  What’s happening?  8pm, [——-], $10 buy-in, cash game, cash-out whenever you want, bring booze, bring snacks, bring your favorite Judge Plager stories, RSVP, RSVP, RSVP now.