Morton Malaise

What do I say, and how am I supposed to feel, when a doctor tells me that the things that make me happy are killing me? Is it better to burn out than fade away? My my, hey hey.

Damn the torpedoes. Carpe diem. I heard someone say once, “I ain’t goin’ out like that.”

The first night of WSOP Main Event coverage has come and gone, and thankfully, Phil Hellmuth was eliminated in record time. ESPN has gone out of their way to make WSOP stand for the World Series of Phil, and frankly, I’m tired of the act. It was more than mildly annoying last year. After a whole year of reruns, circuit events, WPT broadcasts, and lest we forget the worst poker on earth, Celebrity Poker Showdown, the man in the black windbreaker and black hat is making me want to jam a fork in my ear. I like Matusow, love Negreanu, love Phil Ivey, can’t stand Phil Hellmuth. Maybe if he was funny like Matusow and didn’t come off like such a pretentious tool, people wouldn’t be lining up to take his mother out for a nice seafood dinner and never call her again. When I see him at the $1,000 NLHE event next year, I will throw my shoe at him.

In other news, the Tigers now hold a 7-1/2 game lead over the disgusting Chicago White Sox after a 4-0 love-in last night. Ozzie Guillen, for lack of a better term, is a complete douche. That’s all I have to say about that.

When I woke up at 230 this afternoon, I opened my front door to find a log in one of my patio chairs right outside. There was a note stuck under it that read, “Hello, my name is Log. Please give me a home.” This happened sometime after 3 AM. Sigh. Also, someone (not me) punched the windshield of his own vehicle last night hard enough to break it.

We’re going to see Snakes on a Plane tonight. It’s probably going to be the best movie of the summer. Possibly the greatest film of all time. How do I get myself talked into this stuff?

Update: We didn’t go to see Snakes on a Plane because someone misplaced their wallet. I stayed home, read Peoria Pundit and Deadspin, and went to bed early.I needed it.

I have decided there are more than enough blogs dedicated to the press, politicking, kiteflying, porkbarreling, filibustering, pomp, and circumstance in Peoria. Therefore, I will write about whatever the hell I want from now on. Sometimes it may be politics, sometimes it may be sports, sometimes it may be me enjoying the sound of my own voice.

Another Cannonball coming. Plans for BWW followed by a fireside chat with Uncle E-Dub at the fire pit. Come one, come all, but don’t come empty handed. We will be at the BWW in EP, not PIA. It’s closer to home, and the waitresses are much better looking. Look for CROWN on the trivia, usually somewhere near the top.

The car is in the shop again. Hopefully, it’s just a layshaft or CV problem. At worst, it will be a new transmission problem. Nothing like dumping money into a car I’m still upside-down on.

Update from last weekend: The swelling has gone down, and I stopped being so dizzy after Monday. However, I will not be taking any more headers off of patio railings onto stairs.

Quotes of the week:
Brando, Thursday morning:
“I was just thinking about something. Last night, why were we hiding from cars?”

Random commenter on Deadspin:
“You lived in the desert? Are you John the Baptist?”

In other news, Mo Clarett is wanted by the Israeli Mob aka the Jerusalem Group. That would explain why he was driving around with a hatchet, wearing a bulletproof vest. Only the Jews could make their organized crime syndicate sound like an investment firm.