It was crawling over the brown couch and dodging all the holes where couch stuffing came out. A fucking psychotic cat crossing a minefield of fluff, heading towards my end of the couch. I reached out to pet it and the damn fuck swiped a claw at my hand.
“Ah don’ you wuvv me sooo much pussy!”
“Leave my fucking cat alone you animal!” she screamed at me from the kitchen. I could see her back through the door to my left, and the cat kept approaching me from the right. A crazy pussy on either side of me. They had me trapped. The pussy ruled the world and I was a victim of it, a loving victim.
“Shit, I’m scared of this thing like it’s ten fucking feet tall!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. As my hands flew up the little runt cat, couldn’t weigh more than 3, 4, pounds, lunged at my flying hands and slashed me right along my right knuckles.
“HOLY SHIT!” I said.
The cat gave a screeching meow.
“What the fuck did you do now you lazy pig shit motherfucker!” she screamed at me.
“YOUR FUCKING PUSSY! YOUR FUCKING PUSSY ATTACKED ME!” I said while standing up. The cat was on the floor now, facing me with its back arched and its mouth hissing, slowly backing away like I would do something to it, like I would try revenge on my oppressor. It was smart to be wary. Normally I would run and hide from the brute, but not this time. This was the end of it.
I lunged at the cat and threw my right foot at its undercarriage. I was a fucking field goal kicker and this was the winning point. The window across the room was the damn goal posts and I was gonna drive it home, baby, I was gonna score one for all the oppressed males of the world. And I connected too, that cat meowed so loud I thought the fire alarm was gonna go off, or was going off, and it caught air, hit that high point right below the roof, seemed to float for a second, and then descended. Fell. It hit the wall about 2 ft to the right of the window and I cursed the fucking roof and all above it (including those fucking neighbors up there who woke up every morning at 6 am and stomped around in army boots or some shit) until I was out of breathe.
When I stopped cursing I saw her standing in the kitchen door and her face was shocked. The cat was running into the bedroom, hobbling along, wounded, hopefully dying. She had one hand over her mouth. I looked at her and shrugged, sat down. Life was good. That fucking devil pussy had been put in its place. It usually ruled me. One night I went to the bathroom and when I opened the door that little cat was sitting there. I tried to be nice, “Hey kitty kitty,” but that shit didn’t work and the fucker swiped at me. I was bare foot and in my shorts, and there was no way I was trying to get past that razor clawed feline when I was exposing so much skin. So I sat on the pot and looked at myself in the mirror for ten minutes, constantly opening the door to see if she was gone. Today was my victory; today the man in the top hat was chalking down a line in my column for a win.
“Serves the cunt right! Right dear?” I said. I looked back at the kitchen door and she was in it still, but now one hand was behind her back and her face looked unnaturally calm. She never looked calm, not even after she came, though maybe she never did cum. If woman would just stop faking it all the god damned time maybe we would learn to do it better, but since they fake, we just perform what we want.
“Tony, darling, dear, dearest. Why did you kick my cat?”
“Ah, that cats a street rat! We don’t need that thing around here anyway! Shit, you feed that thing better than you feed me!”
“But, Tony, honey… I love my cat. Don’t you love my cat?” she said as she started walking towards me, ever so slowly, hand still behind the back and her brown hair pulled back tight. She had killer lips and a kind of big nose, but the lips made up for the nose and her slot made up for the craziness.
“FUCK that cat! I love my own mother more than I love that cat, and you know I love a bum’s own shit more than I love my mother!” I said. I guess today was the day that I made a stand. No more submissive Joe Schmo, no more punching bag to pussy-kind. I wondered if I should be scared by the light tone and the hand behind the back and the slow walking, but it didn’t matter to me. I pulled my glass off the table to my left and had a nice, long, sip. I grinned at her.
“Ah, this is the life babe! You, me, our fucking glorious apartment and NO CAT!”
She lunged at me from about 3 feet away, pulling her hand from behind her back holding a knife. I didn’t see it very well; I just saw a glint of silver. She led with the knife, aiming it at my chest. I tried to make a move but was half drunk with my drink in hand, sitting down, dumb, and no longer athletic.
Shit, this bitch is gonna kill me, she’ll be the end of me, I thought.
I made a bit of movement to the right and then the knife struck me, dead center, along the middle of my ribcage.
“AH YOU BITCH! YOU STABBED ME!! YOU STABBED ME!” I said. I swung my glass into the side of her head, thinking that maybe I could take her with me. The glass shattered, covered me with shards, and I threw my other hand to my chest to cover the wound, stop the bleeding.
“I’m going to die! Die because of you!”
She didn’t respond because she was falling to the ground, blood flowing from the side of her head. She landed face first in a pair of her dirty panties, faint shit stain down the center.
I screamed a bit more, grabbing my chest. I rolled off the couch and crawled to the phone, thinking that I had to call 911, I gotta do it, I gotta save my life. They won’t give me murder charges, it was self-defense. She’ll get charged. I just gotta live. Call the ambulance.
I got to the table with the phone on it and pulled the thing down by the cord. I yanked a bit hard and the damn cord came out of the wall. I almost cried. I don’t want to die, don’t want to die yet, I thought. I rolled onto my back, one hand still on my chest, holding it, trying to hold my guts in. I didn’t want them to spew out all over the floor. I could just see that damn cat eating them after I died, and the idea drove me crazy. That was no way for a man to die, although I was no real man. But I couldn’t die that way; I wouldn’t be that filthy feline’s last meal in this house.
I looked up at the roof and stared at the little hole that was there amongst the textured ceiling. It was about the size of the circle I make when I touch the tip of my index finger to the tip of my thumb. The girl upstairs wore short skirts a lot, and sometimes I would lie there with a bottle and look up at that hole, occasionally getting a glance or a peek up. Rita and I would watch that hole together sometimes. She liked to talk about how much nicer her pussy looked than our upstairs neighbors.
Sitting there, dying, wondering why I had to die like this, I hoped to get one more peek. At least I can die seeing that pussy again. I’m ruled by it. Ruled by the pussy, so let me have one last glance. My chest was throbbing with pain and I wondered--what do I look like on the inside? Will it be black and empty? Will soot come out of my chest instead of blood? And where is the blood? I don’t feel any on my hands…
I looked down at my chest and lifted my hand, and it was my chest, like normal, with my shirt still intact, no red stains, no hole in the fabric; no hole in me. I ripped at my shirt, tore the buttons, opened it up and looked. All I saw was a huge bruise. Strange. Can I die from a bruise, I thought. Then I realized I wasn’t dying.
“I’M GOING TO LIVE!” I said to the room. Then I heard a groan from Rita. I looked at her and realized why I was still alive – the knife in her hand was a butter knife that had bent on impact… nothing to be afraid of.
I heard a hiss from the cat. I gave the cat the finger. I rolled over and slid my way over to my wife and started stroking her hair as the cat watched me from the bedroom door.
“Rita, babe, you ok? Wake up. It’s ok. It’s ok.” I found the cut on her head, amongst her hair, where the hair was sticky and wet. I rubbed it and she stirred suddenly, and I realized that it must hurt her. I took my hand away and looked at it. Now here is the blood. My blood hasn’t been spilt. Her blood. I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked the blood off the tips and it tasted of copper.
“You need a drink girl. Let me fix you a drink.” And I got up and fixed her a drink, and myself a drink, as the cat hissed and I felt spite for it.
Or had a girl tell you she was on the pill when she wasn't, so you came inside?
Or (this has happened to me) kept fucking after you came cause the girl still wanted it and you wanted to try and satisfy her - but the condom, now full of cum, is slippery and comes off inside of her, unloading your spunk deep into her snatch?
Well if that ever happened to you, McCain thinks that you should have to keep the baby that results from it. Hell, the thinks you shouldn't have had sex in the first place. You should have been taught about abstinence in school rather than a regular sex ed class that explains what a condom is and how the reproductive system works, and what puberty is all about.
I think most of us will agree that if you have a slipup you should definitely be allowed to go get a "morning after pill" and make sure the girl doesn't get pregnant.***
***EDIT: Skot pointed out that the morning after pill wasn't specifically mentioned anywhere. I just assumed he was against that too as he's VERY pro-life, wants to overturn roe vs wade, and has said "the rights of the unborn is one of my most important values." The standard Pro-Life line on the morning after pill is that "emergency contraception is just another abortion approach that kills a human life." Pro-Lifers always tell me that they're against the morning after pill and pretty much anything that interferes with the natural course of life. You shouldn't even be having sex unless you plan to have a kid. Blah blah. Abstinence and all that jazz. I did some research and it's hard to find anything specifically on McCain and the morning after pill - this is all I could find:
John McCain is one of only a few Senators to earn a Zero percent lifetime rating from Planned Parenthood’s Action Fund, and he only scored that high because the organization doesn’t have a lower rating…. Let’s look at his record:
He voted against requiring health care plans to cover birth control (3/22/03).
He voted against comprehensive, medically accurate sex education (7/25/06).
He voted against international family planning funding (3/14/96).
He voted against funding to prevent teen and unintended pregnancies (3/17/05).
He voted against public education for emergency contraception (3/17/05).
And he voted against restoring Medicaid funding that could be used for family planning for low-income women (3/17/05).
NPR reported (2/2/08) that, “Many Republican voters seem to believe, incorrectly, that the current Republican front-runner, Arizona Senator John McCain, supports abortion rights.”
John McCain wants us to believe that he’s a moderate who supports improving the health of women in the United States, but in fact he’s among the most extreme members of Congress who voted against common sense measures on family planning, sex education and access to basic healthcare.
Wendy:
What are [McCain's] views on emergency contraception and non-surgical abortions? What do[es] [McCain] believe their availability should be, and who has the right to legislate this decision? How much funding should go into their continued research and supervision?
Elizabeth Shipp:
Well, Wendy, when it comes to emergency contraception, McCain has voted anti-choice. Period.
Here are two examples -- first, he opposed legislation that would have improved access to emergency contraception, as well as required insurance coverage of prescription birth control, and provided more women with prenatal health care.
Second, he voted against legislation that would have developed programs to increase awareness about emergency contraception, invested in insurance coverage of prescription birth control, promoted family-planning services, and implemented teen pregnancy prevention programs.
I realized today that I have no clue how to play full ring anymore... seriously, what's the trick? I remember I used to be a mega uber super nit. Is that the trick? Should I just load up like 20 tables of full ring and sit back and wait for sets? I've been playing 8 tables @ about 27/23/4 lately and am very much in the groove of playing LAG poker. I'm not really sure anymore what I'd have to change to play full ring on low stakes successfully... Should I just go back and re-read grot's guide to get an idea of hands to play and be willing to open up to my regular game in late position?
Part of me feels like grinding lower limits might be more profitable and fun if I do the mass FR multi-tabling. But at the same time if I do that I won't be working on my game very much at all and I'll get into a nitty habit rather than a LAG one. And when I move up again I'd rather be in full out LAG mode.
Oh well, hopefully someone will post a comment with some good advice. I'm too lazy to go look up some sorta FR strategy or hand guide or anything like that, and I'm worried that if I move to FR I'll just over-do the level of LAG and spew.
Hey all. I've been outta the scene for the past 2 weeks. Mainly cause I started I hit a bad few days and couldn't mentally take it anymore, freaked out, tilted a bit, cashed out a bunch, and decided that my attempt to play full time poker was not succeeding. So I swallowed my pride and went and got a part time job that makes me enough to cover the bills. I'll be doing 3 days a week at the new job and 2 days playing poker. I think that knowing that my bills will be covered will allow me to play poker and build my BR with a lot less pressure, which I think I crack under.
Kind of sad cause I started out great and then have been fighting hard for the last few months. After this last downswing I thought about it and realized that I had played my best poker when I wasn't scared to lose the money and had no need to make any money. But in the last few months I needed to make enough for rent and I was already on a kind of low BR as it was, so I was always stressing out whenever I lost, especially if I had any sort of downswing. My goal is to rebuild my BR will working this job and take another shot at full time once I have 10k and am confident in playing 1/2 the same way I'm confident playing NL25 (IE it is a cake walk).
I also went to NYC for a few days with the GF. It was her first time there and she was going for work so I wasn't supposed to go, but at the last minute we decided I'd come along since I wanted to be with her for her first time in the big city. We had a lot of fun, did a bunch of sight seeing and eating good food in Manhattan. I put most of the pics in the spoiler so go ahead and click if you're interested.
Me and the GF in Central Park at a cool lake we found.
My GF flying in the sheep's meadow or something like that. Sheep used to graze here till like the early 1900's.
Me at ground zero.
Cool building shot
Statue of liberty way in the background
Ellis island on the left and the sunset
Another nice sunset shot
My GF in Times square
A standard times square shot
We hit up some places that we don't have pics of, like Grand Central, Harlem, Union Square, Battery Park, Bryant Park and a bunch of other spots. Was a whirlwind tour and a great time. But I was glad to get back to CO with the open skies and fresh air.
Oh and here's a fucking hilarious video that I found. I posted it in my last blog but no one seemed to watch it, and I think that's a shame. So here it is again!
On other news I'm still doing well on my no cigarette challenge to myself. Started May 20th and ends June 20th. Haven't had a cig since May 20th and have been nice and strong in resisting em. The funny thing is that once I decided I was not gonna smoke anymore, nearly all the desire disappeared. I have only had a few faint urges when things spark off a memory of good times smoking, but they go away very quickly and easily. Of course I'm doing this cold turkey, no special gums or patches. But I was never really addicted, just a casual for fun smoker. So I guess that makes it easier. I have a hard time how anyone could be addicted. If I smoke too much I don't get addicted, I want to stay away from them completely.
I am still trying to diet a bit - basically eat healthier food and eat smaller portions. Going pretty well so far. It's funny seeing how I can eat half as much food as I used to and still be full. I was eating so much more than I needed too cause... well it tasted good. But it wasn't doing any good for my body. I'm still doing a lot more exercise with pushups and situps in there every day along with stretching and some yoga. Adding walks in the park and runs in the park as well, plus today I just restarted skateboarding. Felt weird being the old 24 yr old guy on a board. And to top it off I suck now. If you're an older guy skating it seems to me like you should be good, so I'm kind of embarrassed out there. That's why I went at like 8:30am to the skate park cause I know none of the kids will be around and I can re-learn in private!
That's about all for now. Gonna go get ready for work! Btw, it's actually really nice having a real job again after doing poker for 4.5 months. But I'll go into all of that in a later blog post.
On a more serious political note... All of us that have spent a little time doing McCain research have heard about the wife he left because she was in a car accident. But most people don't bother to do the research. So I'm going to do my own little part to try and get the word out there by posting about it in all my blogs.
McCain likes to illustrate his moral fibre by referring to his five years as a prisoner-of-war in Vietnam. And to demonstrate his commitment to family values, the 71-year-old former US Navy pilot pays warm tribute to his beautiful blonde wife, Cindy, with whom he has four children.
But there is another Mrs McCain who casts a ghostly shadow over the Senator’s presidential campaign. She is seldom seen and rarely written about, despite being mother to McCain’s three eldest children.
And yet, had events turned out differently, it would be she, rather than Cindy, who would be vying to be First Lady. She is McCain’s first wife, Carol, who was a famous beauty and a successful swimwear model when they married in 1965.
She was the woman McCain dreamed of during his long incarceration and torture in Vietnam’s infamous ‘Hanoi Hilton’ prison and the woman who faithfully stayed at home looking after the children and waiting anxiously for news.
But when McCain returned to America in 1973 to a fanfare of publicity and a handshake from Richard Nixon, he discovered his wife had been disfigured in a terrible car crash three years earlier. Her car had skidded on icy roads into a telegraph pole on Christmas Eve, 1969. Her pelvis and one arm were shattered by the impact and she suffered massive internal injuries.
When Carol was discharged from hospital after six months of life-saving surgery, the prognosis was bleak. In order to save her legs, surgeons
had been forced to cut away huge sections of shattered bone, taking with it her tall, willowy figure. She was confined to a wheelchair and was forced to use a catheter.
Through sheer hard work, Carol learned to walk again. But when John McCain came home from Vietnam, she had gained a lot of weight and bore little resemblance to her old self.
Today, she stands at just 5ft4in and still walks awkwardly, with a pronounced limp. Her body is held together by screws and metal plates and, at 70, her face is worn by wrinkles that speak of decades of silent suffering.
For nearly 30 years, Carol has maintained a dignified silence about the accident, McCain and their divorce. But last week at the bungalow where she now lives at Virginia Beach, a faded seaside resort 200 miles south of Washington, she told The Mail on Sunday how McCain divorced her in 1980 and married Cindy, 18 years his junior and the heir to an Arizona brewing fortune, just one month later.
This seems to just be one of the many places where McCain's supposed "strong moral fiber" and "character" will be shown to be a sham. I personally always liked him and had a high opinion of him until this year, when he suddenly flipped all of his positions so that he could match up with Bush and the conservatives. It's sad to see a guy who used to stand up for what he believes in no matter what the consequences start kissing the ass of any crazy right wing nutcase just so he can become president. The only change McCain seems to know about these days is how to change his opinion to match Bush's.
On a personal level, I'm gonna make a blog post with some pics and a full update soon.
The clinton camp is really turning on the waterworks about how sexist the Obama camp and the media are, even going so far as to say the entire media just transcribes Obama conference calls and runs out spewing sexist propaganda or some shit. The big problem is that she can't seem to cite any actual EXAMPLES of sexism, and the few that she mentions are either misunderstandings on her part or not even close to being sexist.
Here's old Geraldine Ferraro on the teevee again, prattling on to Fox News' Shep Smith about how Sexist Barack Obama and his goons in the media are. Considering that Ferraro is a Democrat, and that the more she runs her mouth about Obama hating women, the more Hillary's women will vote for John McCain, we're really studying these clips trying to understand the rage that would lead her to do such a thing. And it seems that many media figures — men! — have been asking Hillary Clinton all sorts of tough questions, for months, about the terrible lies she tells.
The Sexism comes from "all the black journalists" like New York Times columnist Bob Herbert, who Ferraro oddly considers to have any sway among any human being. All of these media figures, she says, basically just transcribe as their opinions what the Obama campaign tells them on conference calls. Well Gerry, maybe they would do the same for Hillary if every Clinton conference call didn't consist simply of Howard Wolfson or Phil Singer telling them all to fuck off.
After praising Fox News, she says Sean Hannity's treatment of Hillary "was not sexist, he just doesn't like Hillary Clinton under any circumstance."
So there you go: Sean Hannity is allowed to dislike Hillary for being a horrible human being, but everyone else is Sexist. Feminism 4evah.
Oh yeah, and if you didn't know the thing she referred to with him brushing his shoulder was when Obama referenced a Jay z song...
Asked to cite specific examples of Obama's sexism, Ferraro mentioned the Senator's "Annie Oakley" remark, and then seemed to confuse Obama's use of a gesture referencing hip-hop star Jay-Z's song "Dirt Off Your Shoulder." But in that song, Jay espouses a certain level of gender equity, specifically noting that "Ladies is pimps, too, go and brush your shoulders off." Had Obama cited "99 Problems," of course, he would have opened himself up to criticism from Ferraro, though, in Jay's defense, "99 Problems" specifically references a time back in '94 when his trunk was raw, and in the rearview was constantly the mother----ing law.
Personally I watched that annie oakley comment and Obama's entire approach at that point was exactly like a stand up comedian, and it was fucking AWESOME!
For the record, I have no problem with women in power, no problem with a female president, and believe 100% in equal treatment/opportunity for men and woman. I also think some feminist ideas are good, but they also get into polar extremes and become idiotic whinny bitches sometimes.
It was nice on Tuesday when Chris Matthews nailed a Hillary supporter by asking "Has Hillary made any complaints about racism in the election in the last few days, or just sexism?" I think he put it better than that so let's blame my flawed memory for any lack of punch it has when I type it out. But I was happy he said it.
Anyway, Geraldine Ferarro is a total nutcase, and Hillary doesn't know when to give up. It will be a great day when she gets the hell out of the race and stops wasting everyones time and money.
Imagine a Mexican announcer screaming "GGGOOOAALLL!"
Last night I realized that I set myself some unrealistic goals in the past and have constantly felt like shit ever since cause I am so far from achieving them. Time to set some new ones.
See, I look up to people like Jamie (MidiaN), Corwin (Myth), vvvq and people like them who have gone from BW to amazing poker careers. I try my hardest to learn from them and I am inspired by what they have achieved. I see how Jamie was able to quickly move up level after level and become a solid 5/10 reg in less than a year and think "if he can do it I can too." That lead me to set the goal of playing 5/10 by the end of 2008 after starting full time poker in January. I thought it would be very easy to achieve, but here I am hitting a wall @ NL100 and constantly dropping down to NL50 or NL25. Why?
It became obvious to me last night that the guys I look up to have something I don't - a natural talent for poker. It's probably similar to the natural skill that allowed them to become top BW players. I can't lay specifics to what is different, but it's clear that they have a natural skill that I don't. I think I have some natural poker skill, and it's larger than a good portion of the people playing poker out there, but it's small compared to what Jamie, Corwin, vvvq and so on have. My natural skill probably gives me an edge up to NL200 at the most.
This means I have to make up for it somewhere else. I believe that I can achieve the same outcome as those guys did and get up to being a 5/10 reg. But my path won't be the same as theirs. It's going to take a lot longer, and I'll have to do a lot more work to be as good as they are. But this is where my assets come into play. All my life I've always faced the same situation - I am naturally better at activities (sports, BW, so on) than the average joe who shows up to play, but I hit a wall where my natural skill stops while others keep going. I've dealt with it by accepting where my natural skill can get me and working hard to compensate for it. I'm persistent, determined, hard working and driven, and that allows me to do the extra work necessary to continue to improve beyond what my natural skill allows.
I think part of what got me to realize why I've been hitting this wall in poker was re-watching the movie Gattaca. If you haven't seen it the basic idea is that in the future pregnancy is controlled and the babies are genetically customized to the parents desires. They can control how tall/short the baby will be, hair color, eliminate potential medical problems, increase their IQ and physical ability, and so on. Babies that aren't born with these modifications but are instead done naturally are doomed for life because the new way of determining who is better for a job or task is by doing a blood test that reveals all of your qualities. The main character is born naturally and wants a job that only modified people are able to get, and he has to work harder than any of them to get the same thing.
His drive and ability to achieve great things despite his genetic inferiority reminded me of myself and my poker problems. To get what I want in poker I can't rely on my natural god given talent, I have to work my ass off. And I can't get discouraged when I see people like Jamie killing the game so quickly and easily because I'm not him and I don't have the same starting ground he does. I just have to work even harder knowing that I will get there eventually.
With all that said, I'm revising my goal. My goal right now is to be destroying NL200 by the end of the year, at the same level and with the same confidence that I currently beat NL25. I'd also like to be rolled for NL400 and starting to play there as my main limit, but knowing that I can always play NL200 for easy profit cause I have huge BR for it and am skilled enough to easily kill it.
I think this is a very realistic and achievable goal for me. I think having this in my sights instead of 5/10 will allow me to develop at the right pace instead of pushing myself too fast based on the results other people more naturally skilled than me had, and then inducing myself to tilt cause I'm not getting where I want to be.
For the rest of this month I plan to play NL25/NL50 and most likely won't check what my BR is. I haven't checked it in about 3.5 days and I've played at least 5k hands over that time of NL50/NL25. I'm definitely not going to try NL100 again till at least 2.5k, and probably will wait till 3k. I'm going to spend my time on NL25/NL50 focusing on identifying my basic weaknesses and leaks in my ABC game and trying to plug them. I'm playing 12-16 tables right now which has been fun and is nice cause I get myself into so many situations so quickly that I get a lot of practice in a short period of time. Since I'm playing very standard TAG ABC I'm mostly reinforcing things I already knew, which I think I needed to do. I've started getting so fancy that I'm becoming my own worst enemy @ NL100.
Ok, for all you House fanatics out there, I have to talk a bit about the season finale. Fucking awesome.
But before I get to that, I first have to publicly put down a commitment I just made to my GF. See, we got arguing cause I wanted to smoke a 3rd cigarette tonight after having a few beers (so I'm tipsy) while celebrating Obama's victory. She felt I was starting to chain smoke and getting addictive in my cig habit. So we agreed that I would smoke 1 more tonight and then take a month off. I like the idea. I'm not a big cig guy, just smoke when I drink and occasionally when stressed. In the past when I've felt like I've started smoking too much, I've instituted 1 month breaks on myself to make sure I'm still in control. I don't end the month break with some sort of 2 pack a day binge or anything - normally I don't even realize that the time is up. But the longest I've done one of these since being with my GF is 1 week, and I didn't even make a big deal about it at the time so I'm not sure she noticed.
I'm excited to do this cause I'm already on a bit of a health kick and I like doing things like this to challenge myself to give up shit that I always say "I could stop if I wanted to". It's very much a mental addiction to me, and I have the hardest time with it when I'm drinking cause a smoke goes so well with a beer in my mind. So this is really a mind over matter type of situation for me. Luckily I've never had any physical urges for cig's despite having times in my life where I smoked like crazy. It has always been a mental desire cause "a cig is so good after a meal" or "I'm stressed and I just wanna walk around outside and smoke" or "I'm drunk and would love a cig right now". Time to put my money where my mouth is and prove to myself and my GF that I can stop whenever I want, AND that I can stick to my word.
Now back to hizzouse...
Last weeks episode was awesome. Intense the entire way through, some fun sherlock holmes style mystery, and great dream/flashback sequences. It ended on a crazy note learning about Amber and having us wonder wtf house was doing with her. Tonight I downloaded the season finale and watched it with my GF and we both were crying by the end. I'm such a sap.
I think they tackled it beautifully. Honestly I've started feeling like house was getting repetitive and boring, but right when I thought there was nothing left for them to do to get me interested, they brought these last 2 episodes out. It was intense to see some emotion from house and, personally, having someone I love and would hate to lose, I got down with how wilson felt. Overall I think these last 2 episodes constituted the best season finale so far, followed closely by the one where foreman nearly dies.
Crazy shit. Well written. Great acting. Smart writing in terms of how they took amber and made her into such an important character. And while I thought losing foreman/chase/cameron from the main team would kill the show, they found a way to make it work in these last episodes. I still think the original 3 pwn the new 3, but now I'm excited for the new season.
Alright, that's all I have to say about house. Now it's time to go have my last cig for a month. Wish me luck!
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