Bad Advice Poker

I took a piece of foolish advice over the weekend.  Not anything major or irreparable, but bad enough that it inspired me to reflect on the many other times I followed bad advice throughout my life.  Upon closer examination, I noticed a pattern.  All of that bad advice I have ever received was given to me by alcohol.  WTF booze?  I thought we were friends.  Here’s a sampling of the bad advice I have received from these false friends over the years:

“You’re a great dancer.”  –Vodka.

“That bitch is disrespecting you and needs to be fought.”  –Tequila.

“You tell the most interesting stories.”  –Wine.

“That buck-tooth pimple-face guy is hot.”   –Beer.

“That buck-tooth pimple-face girl is hot.”  –Whiskey.

“Your views on religion and politics are infallible.” –Gin.

And then there’s Bourbon.  Bourbon was the giver of the most recent piece of bad advice that lead to this reflection in the first place.

I was over-imbibing a wonderful poison known as Bourbon slush into the wee hours of Saturday night, and awoke still drunk on Sunday morning in anticipation of that most sacred of D.C. rituals: brunch.  I consulted the most reputable local authority on the matter, the website “Bitches who Brunch” to help inform my bleary-eyed search for sustenance.

Here is the problem with brunch.  I don’t want to schlep all the way to the other side of town to wait 20 minutes for a table, surrounded by vitriolic hill-staffers, so some hipster waitress can roll her eyes at me and I can pay $35 for an egg.  I don’t want buckwheat ricotta cranberry pancakes with crème fraiche, I just want pancakes with syrup.  And cramming a bunch of rickety tables onto a busy sidewalk 10 feet from honking cars is not “outdoor seating.”  What I really want is someone to come to my house and make my hungover ass some pancakes and eggs.

And Bourbon said “you’re not alone.  You want what everyone wants.  And you are just the genius to give it to them.”  So I said fuck Bitches who Brunch!  I’m starting my own site!  Cunts who Cater.

(Pardon my language, it was the Bourbon talking.)  So I started a website.  Then I sobered up and lost most of that momentum.  And now I have a website with nothing on it.  So I’m going to edit and post the top 75% of the content that I have generated over the past 4 years of weekly poker emails, in blog form, and see how that looks.

Blog postings will lag a few weeks behind the real-time poker email, they will be redacted for personal information, and will not contain any home addresses.  So if you ever want to actually go to poker, or if you just want ignorant diatribes hurled at your inbox in real-time, you still need to be on the email list.  If you have ever been mentioned by name in a poker email, and you don’t want such a disreputable affiliation for public consumption, let me know and I can change the name, delete the reference, or just not post that entry, depending on what works.

In the meantime, actual poker continues.  This week we shall gather at [——–].  $10 buy-in, 8pm start time.  RSVP.  Don’t bring Bourbon.  Bring something else.

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