The bastard, the beatch and the biznitch. The Nerdia Chronicles.

God how I miss poker. I haven't touched a pack of cards in such a long time. But the question remains. Does poker miss me? Does poker even think of me at all? I sure miss the good times when You'd be dealt to me. I'd take a peepseep of one, then the other. Ooh the anticipation. That's what's so lovely about you, I never know what hole cards I'm gonna get. But oh you burn me so sometimes. Especially the time when you gave me two pair on the flop. How I thought I had that pot. Alas, you gave better cards to the person next to me. The cruelest betrayal of all. I thought we were one. Poker and I. Now I realize I have much still to learn of the game. But that's what's always drawn me to you isn't it? The chase. Pass the button. The give and the rake. And by the end of the night, you leave me spent. You've taken my cash, my pride and dignity. But I love you still poker. I love you still.

So, when are we playing a sit-n-go?

Dude, it's like supermegafreezing in the office. I keep forgetting to bring gloves. I have a knitted pair in the house that would really come in handy. I'm wearing double already. I've got a sweater on and on top of that, a sweater jacket. Dude. Like, is this for reals?

Somebody save me from my life. But enough of that.

There are more pressing issues at hand. For one, the beatch is back. Saw him last night and t'was good. Just like old times. It didn't take long before we were laughing our asses off on the floor. Good times indeed. Hopefully, we'll get to watch King Kong's balls on friday. Barring work of course. Doesn't look like there'll be any weekend overtime anyway so things are lookin' on the up and up. I swear, if ziggy ever became a creative, he'd kick. My. Ass. Thank you very much. I've never met anyone funnier than the biznitch.

Well, things are lookin' on the up and up in general. Despite some slight setbacks here and there, nothing a good night's sleep can't fix. And it's that easy for guys sometimes. Women like to over analyze things, for men, it's far more simple. Well, most men. But I'm sure ya'll know what a whiny little bitch I can be sometimes. Well, most of the time. Hey The O.C. is a really good show and I really don't feel I have to defend myself with that ok?

Aside from seeing the biz last night, I had another one of those stellar talks with Jolly. You see, the biz kept us waiting for his ass the whole night and me and the mastah had nothing to do until about 12. So we did what men do. We talked about nothing. And it was great. You see, I don't feel you need to have like a serious bonding chuvachenes discussion about stuff on cnn or what. As long as I get to hang wit mah boys, then I'm good. Another thing I realized is that I wound up with the perfect friends a guy could ever have. It's wicked smooth. Best thing about them is, they're for reals. And when we talk about the some of the best times of our lives, it's always in each other's company.

Damn this got sappy real quick. What's up with that? Must be the cold. Like, for reals.

By the way, the Ceylon tea in UCC rocks. Ceylon. Like Cylon in Battlestar Gallactica. I'm glad we're not cool.