Voy Por Ustedes

So this will be just a few rambling outbursts with no real points or opinions raised, so if you have something better to do, which in real terms means if you're not in a coma, then you may want to skip this entry.

So, let's catch up, let's chat Hilary Clinton style. How are you all anyway? I've been to Bristol twice recently. That's an amusing accent. Brizzle. Nice enough people; the kind of people you'd worry about if they had to travel to a big city, bless them. They are city folk I suppose, but hicks at the same time.

Anyways, I obviously went there to play poker. I only go any place to play poker. I did pretty badly in the first one. And as bad as you can possibly do in the second as I was out first. I made the final table (with one single chip) of the third and final tournament, which was a rootin' tootin' 20 minute clock £10 freeze-out, so that's 90% luck anyway and I was also second man out of a game on Monday night last.

What this means, is that while I have been unlucky to a degree, my poor performances have been mainly due to playing like a c*nt. C*nts poker won't get me too far when I head to Slovenia in a couple of days to play in what will be the biggest buy-in tournaments of my poker playing life. Therefore in the time that is left before my flight, I shall be going back to poker school taught by Professors Brunson, Harrington, Gordon, Hellmuth and Lake.

On a final poker note, I'd like to apologise to Daniel Negreanu. I doubt if he still reads my blog after I was so nasty to him, but if he does, I hope he forgives me. I still don't think there's any excuse for a member of the human race - the species at the pinnacle of the food chain - to be a vegetarian, but he's a very good poker player and for this he deserves respect. I doubt if he'd have gone out first at the Brizzle games anyhoo, not with the cards I was playing anyway.


Do you know who Thomas Midgley Jr. is? Possibly the most tragic man in human history. Tony Blair was always concerned about his legacy, but his issues were spilt milk compared to this fella. He was the dude who first discovered that putting lead in petrol reduced knocking. Obviously completely oblivious to the harmful effects on the environment and peoples health - including his own as he was struck down with lead poisoning.

To atone for his honest blunder and to reverse the damage he had done to the environment he knuckled down and developed a non-toxic and safe refrigerant for household appliances to replace the toxic and potentially explosive efforts that were available at the time. The fruits of his research however, coming in the shape of "Freon," were to be even more poisonous to the human race.

In science speak he had discovered dichlorodifluoromethane. Which the science boffins amongst you will recognise as a chlorinated fluorocarbon; or CFC to the layman. In an attempt to reverse his devastatingly poisonous lead fuels, he destroyed a huge percentage of the Ozone layer giving any number of people and nice children, cancer and causing further environmental damage. To coin a phrase, "D'oh."

Depending on your point of view, his luck took a further downturn or fate took pity on him and put him out of his misery. Midgley developed polio and strangled himself on a harness he had built to help him get in and out of bed. I'm laughing as I type this, but it's not funny really is it..it's tragic (snigger).

I can just see him now swinging by his neck on his harness slowly choking to death. Probably a suicide attempt I reckon, but still, the irony!


I've developed a taste for Diet Coke lately. It's nice really, and I've found my dreams are less frenetic too if I drink the stuff before going to bed than drinking the sugered up stuff. I dreamed (dreamt?) that I bashed my own head in with a hammer a few weeks ago. I woke up in a sweat and told myself, "Rich man, you've got to drink less fat coke."


In other news; I'm really not happy about the tax payer forking out £10million for another enquiry into how Diana Princess of Eeeeeerales was killed. Not when that money could be going to me. This is like our version of the Kennedy assassination. You can have as many trials and enquiries as you want, but Mohammed Al Fayed will never accept that she and her son weren't gunned down by MI5 or the Cubans or somethings. My theory is she was giving the driver a blow job when they crashed.

I know I wouldn't be able to steer straight in a tunnel if she was sucking my magic sap out of me and there's no denying she loved a bit of cock. They do say the more relaxed you are in a crash the better your chances of survival and the driver was the only one who survived. How much more relaxed can a man be than post oral-coital bliss? I mean reeeally, a world class footballer can endure 90 minutes of sheer hell and recover after a ten minute shower and bottle of lucozade, but he's asleep within seconds when he's shot his bolt into a page three girl.


Finally, I'm sick of people insisting that bears are cute. Bears are seven feet tall and they weigh 40 stone, A bear will rip your child's face to pieces if he has so much as a gob stopper in his mouth. When you think bear think Grizzly, not Winnie. That's all I'm asking.