Tao of Poker

The More Things Change: A Guest Post from Bobby Bracelet

Editor's Note: As you know, I'm off for the first two weeks of the year working on my Las Vegas book project. In the meantime, my friends will be taking over the Tao of Poker. Here's the sixth of a collection of guest posts from your favorite bloggers. Bobby Bracelet loves talking about himself in the third person. Stop by his blog Based on Years of Experience... to peek into his madness. Thanks again to Bobby Bracelet!


The More Things Change...

Wow, the headquarters of the Tao are unreal. Stepping over passed out hookers, brushing random narcotics off my new seat, and sitting down in my temporary office, after Pauly kindly removed the dead body brings a feeling I can only explain as splendiferous. It's the only word that can do it justice. Well, maybe unbeevable could manage if the S key on my keyboard wasn't working, but it is, and that in and of itself is splendiferous because lots of words have the letter S in them. My vocabulary isn't voluminous enough to pontificate without the applicability of the S key.

Over the years I have honed my blogging skills. Like any first timer, I sucked donkey balls at first, in a non-Daddy way I assure you. But you can't stop greatness, and from my second year forward it has been mandated that I only refer to my abilities as "skillz" to demonstrate just how fierce they really are.

It's not that I just possess fierce literary skillz, I'm multi-dimensional.

Here, lean in close, I'll fill you in on a little secret. I'm the 4th Greatest Poker Player You've Never Heard Of.

Don't believe me?

Well it's true. Just google "Greatest Poker Player You've Never Heard Of" and a link to my site comes up Fourth. Google doesn't lie, I'm pretty freaking amazing.

But I'm not here to talk about me, my penis (which has been thrice confirmed as Huge), or the fact that I think a man should be able to hit a woman if she strikes him first and is looking for a fight. But the more I think about that last sentence, the more I think I may actually write about just that, so perhaps we should quit setting the stage and just get to writing.

(And by "we" I mean me.)

It's a new year. Everyone has a new chance, a clean slate. I was really hoping we could start strong and set some positive trends for 2006. I was wrong.

Proven television veteran Adam Brody from The O.C. (Note very heavy sarcasm) has just been given a development deal by NBC to create a super awesome show where a special force of the LAPD tracks vampires. Created, I suppose, because hard working policemen whose soul purpose has been to protect civilians from vampire invasion, have never really gotten their due. I guess that means that some of the other thankless jobs our civil servants provide will soon get their due as well. The special forces of the FDNY who track and kill gremlins, the secret society of Certified Public Accountants who moonlight as dragon slayers, and even the ER nurses who manage the portal between Hell and Earth. You know, reality based story lines that always combine previously popular shows into one new ripoff. Thanks Adam! We've all just become a little less intelligent thanks to you and your terrific idea.

Fucking retarded. (And I'm talking level 9 retardism at bare minimum.)

I think the only thing that's more retarded than a blatant attempt to capitalize on the "in" concept of the moment (Buffy + CSI), is the fact that after starring in a show that somehow becomes a hit, they offer development deals to these douchebags for future shit like LAPD: Vampire Unit.

At what point in the process of looking like a character and reading a script better than the next guy, does "television development deal" deserve to be inserted, because it's a sad state of affairs when a show like Arrested Development struggles to earn ratings, but some jackass at NBC creates a brand new show called CSI in Order: Special Las Vegas Emergency Medical Shield Unit and the fucking public, yes the same fucking public that you see on the street every day pulling across 5 damn lanes with no blinker on because god forbid they have to turn around or go up an extra block after failing to pay attention the entire time they drove over from their house that's bigger than yours and while you drive like a normal human being and hold doors for old ladies and alert people when they accidentally drop a twenty spot on the ground while paying for something, these fucking douche bags are cutting you off, writing checks in the supermarket, and designing software that automatically separates the word douche bag into two separate words when you really want to keep it together but that's another story because that jackass who merges onto a highway at 35mph fucking up the traffic flow is the guy with the ratings box in his house, and the day I meet someone who is part of this stupid fucking process I'm going to punch them in the face and kick them twice in the nuts for determining that unique shows like Arrested Development need to go so Ted "I was never funny but at least I get more bald and awkward looking every time you see me" Danson can get his 17th attempt at a sitcom which will fail because the people in charge of everything continue to hire no talent assbags to fill blatant attempt after blatant attempt to capitalize on whatever show became popular instead of creating something new which leaves us with 44 different versions of CSI and 15 fucking shows about Presidents and the asshole who pulls into your parking space that you've been sitting in front of with your blinker on because the car pulling out blocks you allowing him the chance to is the same guy who was somehow given a ratings box and as he spanks his micropenis to Glenn Close in The Shield we all have to fucking pay for another year of shitty television.

I can't fucking stand it.

That's why I want 2006 to be the Year Of The Normal People.

Punch that lady in the face who sends the checkout girl back into the store because she wants the twenty cents off her generic fruit punch that she believes she deserves. When you see a women screaming at her kids and slapping them around, kick her in the ovaries. Forearm shiver the guy who thinks it's alright to take up 3 parking spaces with his brand new truck that he loves more than his "old lady" or kids and features a really funny sticker of Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes pissing on the name of whatever the competing brand truck is. In fact, do us all a favor when you see that and use your keys to scratch a crude picture of Calvin on the door pissing with the phrase "Piss on douchebags who park like this!"

We need to start now because we have a lot of work ahead of us, and things appear to be getting worse.

Yesterday I went through the drive-thru at Arby's for a quick bite to eat. With only one car ahead of me, containing only one person, I figured it would be a very fast process. Apparently I forgot to factor in the current level of retardedness in society today.

With my window down I could hear everything this Einstein was trying to accomplish. "What's on your such and such sandwich? And what type of cheese is on it? And if I wanted pickles on it could I get pickles on it? And do I get to choose what type of bread I get it on? And what all comes with that? And could I get something instead of the fries because I don't like fries that much? And you don't have anything to drink besides what the board says?"

Eventually this lady, who I decided had never been outside of her house and certainly had never been to Arby's before, decided to just build her own sandwich for her daughter. She made sure to keep talking about her daughter as well, because nobody has anywhere to go, right?

Almost 5 minutes later I was able to make my order and pull up to the window. When I asked the chick with the headphones what that ladies problem was, she replied that the woman comes through the drive-thru at least 3 times a week and every time she comes by she spends 5 minutes asking questions like she's never been there before.

We need to beat common sense in to these types of people now before they teach their children to act like them. It's a vicious cycle that can only be broken with forearms, steel-toed boots, and closed fists.

As I pulled away from Arby's, Tag Team's Whomp There It Is came on my iPod. I unwrapped my sandwich while I drove with my knee. The infectious beat and brilliant lyrics took over my body and I gave the "Rerun" dance my best shot, despite sitting in a car I was driving with my knee, and I couldn't help but wonder why everyone isn't as cool and smart as I am.


Bobby Bracelet is a drug salesman and blogger from Western Michigan.