Moving on…

1. Whenever we passed a 7-Eleven in the car, my brother used to announce that he was going to say “Seven” to mark the occasion. Upon hearing this, I would shout “Seven!” to my great amusement and his great distress. I still take pleasure in the psychological suffering of others today.

2. I was student body president of my elementary school. I did not use the veto or pardon powers one might associate with the office.

3. I went to Beverly Hills High School, but never had the opportunity to bitch-slap neither Brenda nor Brendon, as they were fictional characters. Nor did I stalk Angelina Jolie Voight, whom I have recently concluded is a fictional character in her own right.

4. I wasted most of my college years online figuring out this Internet-thingy. All of my real jobs are a direct result of that time-wasting. Now I help today’s college kids to waste time looking at girls online. I expect that in ten years the most prolific pornographers and Peeping Toms will owe me some thanks, and a few photos.

5. The Internet wasn’t the reason I was suspended from college my senior year, but it did give me something to do.

6. I’ve taken the MCAT, LSAT, and GMAT, and applied to medical school, law school, and business school, but I am not a doctor, laywer, nor douchebag. Okay, maybe I am the latter, but I didn’t learn it in school for $40k a year!

7. I think MySpace sucks. My job is to make it suck less.

And I tag…

Iggy
Grubby
-EV
Hank
fhwrdh

Because they are either mysterious, secretive, or infrequent posters (thus ending this tagging nonsense).

And…

Poker Gnome

Because he still reminds me of Robert Wagner.

And finally…

Fact Girl

Because her writing makes me happy.

This coming weekend, however, will likely give me my fill of pokery things for a little while to come. With the women out of town or otherwise preoccupied, Absinthe and I will be sharing a room over at the Jihad Casino and Resort Hotel. I don’t expect to use it much. And I suppose I’ll participate in this Caesars tournament that’s going on, too. It’s too bad that the future Mrs. Glyphic won’t be there, because I feel she adds a certain tilt factor that almost assuredly works in my favor. Then again, I think Bill‘s the blogger most likely to appreciate the tilt, and from what I can tell, he won’t be joining us this time around.

See you there.

You look like a serial killer, btw. Charles Manson has nothing on your.

I would cultivate that image, btw, and start playing more B&M poker.

Heh.

In reality, everyone in LA and their mother thinks of Vegas in the same way. They might drive up Thursday night, Friday morning, Friday night, or Saturday morning, but they all come back Sunday afternoon.

When you’re waiting out the traffic and heat in Baker, CA in 110 degree weather, an extra night at the MGM Grand for $60 suddenly looks like the deal of the century.

When you realize you’ve spent $100 on fuel and 12 hours of your limited free time crossing the Mojave desert (sober!), two round-trip tickets + cab fares for $500 doesn’t really seem that expensive.

The next time I talk about driving up to Vegas, somebody slap me.