Sunday, 1 April 2012

The Fool's Day

It's past noontime and I just got out of bed. What's worse is that the sun came out again after going M.I.A yesterday, so I missed the entire morning of yellow sunlight. I am also missing money from my little orange purse. I feel like that slot-machine-crazed man in that episode of "Twilight Zone" who couldn't stop working the slot machine until it drove him to a grisly death outside his hotel room window, several floors down.

The root of this unfortunate puddle of gloom?

Poker.

All nighter. And I lost.

Nasty, sleazy, tempting poker, with the pot brimming over with everyone's £5 notes/coins, beckoning like a bit of flame to a moth. Didn't get home until 6 AM all depressed, cold, tired and drained. To add insult to injury, we missed the morning sun!

I hereby resolve to go off poker indefinitely (like my legal mumbo jumbo?).

"In a bet there is a fool and a thief," goes one of them smug proverbs that happen to pack a lot of truth into one-liners (bastards).

And on that note: this year's April Fool, signing out.


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