“…the wind is gone, asleep at dawn, the embers burn on…”
death by dehydration
glycerol ester of wood rosin
what THE HELL is this stuff and what is it doing in my Powerade
brominated vegetable oil
serves the same purpose and is found in Moutain Dew
bromine is a highly corrosive gas, by the way
t h a n k s
especially the ones that feed me and post my bail
Lately, I have been immersed in pool. When I say immersed, I actually mean I tested the water with my foot, then decided to go for a little swim, got caught in a riptide and ended up somewhere in the Bering Sea.
This past Friday night, I watched a little match-up between two professional players. The two players had incredibly contrasting styles. Player A was paced, thoughtful, and methodical, while Player B could best be described as a jumping bean on speed and two gallons of espresso. As they were playing, this amusing conversation took place between us twenty-something spectators, two of whom have been featured in my previous posts.
[Triple Grande Iced Mocha, road player] “God, I can’t stand the way Player B plays. Just look at him! His patterns are all over the place like a f—ing Chagall painting.
[Quad Venti Nonfat Caramel Macchiato, A-player] “Oooh, Chagall. I haven’t thought about him in a while. The last time I had a conversation about art, me and TIMONE over here were arguing over Monet. He goes, ‘I don’t see why he’s so famous. All he painted were a bunch of waterlilies.'”
[Timone, C-player] “I’m telling you, it’s true.”
[Triple Grande] “What?! That’s like saying all Cezanne painted was fruit.”
[Quad Venti] “Exactly.”
[OMGWTF] “We should go on a trip to the County Museum of Art.”
[Quad Venti] “That’s not a bad idea. I’m down for that.”
[Triple Grande] “I could go for that. Haven’t been to a museum in– Oh God, look at that f—ing shape! How the hell does Player B get away with that kind of s—?! He plays f—ing terrible!”
[Quad Venti] “He s—s out in the most incredible ways. It’s going to cost us a hundred.”
[Timone]: “I hate this game.”
And to think we pool players were just an uncultured, uneducated lot…
The next day, Saturday, a one-pocket match for a highly respectable sum of money went down. Some of my favorite overheard from the Saturday session:
“He’s finally playing the way he should be playing for this much money–like a seventy-five year-old man betting two dollars a game.”
“This is the ugliest one-pocket I’ve ever seen. If you filled this room with professionals and didn’t tell them what these guys were playing for, they’d never believe it was for four-digit stakes per game. Then, you could tell them, and watch them cry.”
— a road player just passing through town
“You’re doing good. You’re doing okay. Look at your shots before you shoot. Don’t go racing around the table. Take a little more time. Think. AND JUST WIN THE F—ING MONEY, OKAY?!?!“
And, in case that’s not enough pool for you, last weekend, Memorial Day Weekend, also brought me plenty of pool…
Mom, if you’re reading this, you can stop now. I was in bed by 10:30 p.m. everyday, and I was NOT betting high in the bad side of town on my weakest pool game. I did not stay up for 56 hours, 32 of which were spent watching or playing pool, and 16 working for the man. You brought me up properly, and I would NEVER do anything irrational like that… 😉
Is my mom gone? Sweet.
What really happened was that I showed up to a gambling appointment (set up three weeks in advance) with someone descriptively, and appropriately nicknamed “Ski Mask“. We, unfortunately, did not end up playing. The path to the “not playing” part is quite possibly, the most fabulous and SPECTACULAR story I have to tell about pool. Ever.
Think Chronicles of Hedgehog on the biggest, baddest, most nuclear combination of illegal substances that would cause even Lindsay Lohan and Barry Bonds to think twice. I’m going to save it for a possible magazine article (magazine kingpins, are you reading this?), because it’s just that awesome.
And, Ski Mask, I know you’re reading this. Thanks for a great story that will soon be preserved FOREVER in print (or maybe online), and in the memories of the crowd/entourage you called down to cheer you on and watch you play…
Here is an overheard for those of you who were not there. If talk like this was going down, you can only imagine how great a party it was.
“Dude, what’s wrong with you? Why are you being a such p—y?! You said you’re going to play her, now f—ing play! How much money do you have? Show me! I don’t want you playing OMGWTF with just a hundred in your pocket, you f—ing f—-t!”
— Ski Mask’s ex-girlfriend in a state of incredibly awesome indignant fury I have NEVER seen before
On a slightly more somber note, my kinder, gentler, better-looking half and I have parted ways, for those of you who know us. He’s a great pool player and a nice guy, and I’ll miss him. So long, Sugar. Good luck, and I’ll be seeing you on the tournament trail. 😉
In other News Of The Obvious, Pool and I are officially getting back together. Wheee!
I’m going to shuck off my legendary Lazy Bastard (Bastardess?) ways and play pool every day for a hundred days. The window for sidebets is still open, for those that would like to get in.
The terms are: hit at least a ball everyday. This is a lot harder than it sounds, because I do have a somewhat busy life and I AM EXTREMELY LAZY and no, I do not have a pool table at home (home being roughly the size of a pool table). For this bet, there is no excuse for missing a day. That’s right, if I’m in jail, you bet that one phone call is going to be to the local billiards supply company. I have a fishing trip planned this summer, so I’ll have to get creative when that rolls around…
I will keep a brief diary of my pool encounters and experiences, which, for me, are never boring (and you all know this). Oh yes. It’s going to be a par-tay.
 : Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Played league. Developed ulcer watching my teammates shoot during the last two matches. My team wins. We talk smack and drink beer and eat ice cream sundae toppings straight out of the jar.
 : Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Went to a new pool hall with some friends. Went 2-and-2 in the tournament. Kind friends bought me coffee and burgers to alleviate my disappointment. Food heals all wounds.
 : Thursday, May 31, 2007
I haven’t been going to tournaments lately, but I was somewhat guilted into this one by my running partners and their “you have to play tournaments to get better” spiel. I whined and threw a tantrum, but ended up playing, and netted $25 for five hours of handicapped nine-ball torture. It’s nice to know I’m making less than minimum wage. That’s right Mom and Dad, I went to college to make this kind of money. At least it’s tax-free.
 : Friday, June 1, 2007
Played a little barbox eight-ball.
 : Saturday, June 2, 2007
Played some more barbox eight-ball. Watched ridiculous one-pocket match.
 : Sunday, June 3, 2007
Shot around with out-of-town drinking buddy, we shall call her TINKERBELL. Tinkerbell’s friend, an excellent lady pool player who is quite possibly, the nicest and most normal pool playing chick I have ever met, mentions that one of the female pool regulars in this pool hall, we shall call her URSULA, refuses to acknowledge her presence, going so far as to say hello to the entire group of people while pointedly leaving her out. Ursula is a famed sufferer of Alpha Bitch Syndrome. So, I told Tinkerbell’s friend, “If she refuses to acknowledge you, it’s a good thing. It means that you are a). hot, and b). a great pool player. So, really, you’re winning on all fronts.”
serious Lego art
Click on the gallery link in the article to see some cool stuff.
Be a champion of anything.
david blaine [4 minutes : 43 seconds]
Okay, I’m sure I posted this before.
It makes me laugh every time.
david blaine, part deux [5 minutes]
I can’t get enough of that Blaine *sTaRe!* into the camera.
david… copperfield, this time [2 minutes : 4 seconds]
I probably posted this before, also.
Just play along and laugh, okay?