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Friday, September 7, 2012

How I Became Poker Champion of the Poor

I'm not saying I wrote terrible things in the free-write.  
But . . . 
Satan just handed back the rough draft and won't meet my eyes.

Original Post: 
Hey, Badger, I want to post a story here titled How I Became Poker Champion of the Poor.  It's all about how I didn't get my sandwich and got into an argument with a doorman.  It's irreverent and rude and sarcastic and maybe even a little snarky.  Best lines are:

When I get off the train the first thing I see are these werewolf outfits.  Not just any werewolf outfits.  But the extra special ones made out of creamy colored alpaca wool made from the really good stuff out of Land-of-Groom farms.  Sure, it makes the wearer look a lot like Disney's Goofy.  But as far as werewolf outfits go these are the type that are top of the line.  The outfits are piled off to the side one ontop another like they're old skins or something off a dusty spagheti western.

It features Chippendale Policemen, The Russians, and G.L.O.W.  Oh, and it'a all about the things one can collect.  Like the Transformers Monopoly crossed Tarzan MMORPG.

Should I post it here?  There's cusswords, too.  Did I mention the European survivalist fashion model?  Or the bamboo walls????  Did I tell you it has Ted Bundy and George Carlin, too?

What do you think?


  1. Woohoo! I start working on this baby tonight. It'll go up tomorrow evening/afternoon??? The links are going to be hell. But oh, so worth it!