Awesome stories TST!

I binged the whole thread in 2 days, and can't want for the next ones.
Might start pawning all my stuff to get some more TST.

Haha this cop is awesome.

Question, you weren't a bit anxious to be holding up a shotgun when the cops burst in? I've always wondered this about self defense, like take that airport shooting for example, if an armed citizen took action aren't they putting themselves in substantial danger from police misunderstanding? (Maybe even in worse shape than just vs the lone shooter)

Also I've switched my view on sexiest conceal gun ever from the sig p232 to the colt detective special, blued ldo. I didnt know it but think I am a revolver guy (kind of like the first time I was with a red head).

I was worried that the cops would start turning guns on me in a misunderstanding, so as soon as I heard the door open, I put the gun down. I was braced over the glass display case and from there you can't see the front door, but the guy was on the floor with his face down, he didn't know what guns were on him.

The Colt Detective is a nice revolver, it is used as a prop in many 70s-80s shootouts with cops. Remember if you keep that thing in your pocket that the hammer will snag. I prefer SW 442/642 because its completely hammerless.

I want to get another story out, unfortunately I have been busy because this storm blew out a side of my nursery and snapped the irrigation pipes. I also have been playing on BOL, should have next chapter done by tomorrow.

On To the Next One

After getting back to my dad's, staying there for a few days and relaxing, I decided it was time to head south. Anyone who makes the drive south to Florida from DC, NY, Boston knows this is a killer drive. It was 24 hours from my dad's house to my condo almost on the dot, and that was driving on the highways. I decided to take the road less traveled and after passing by Pocono Downs to cash in my $400 in chips, I got off the freeway and took all sideroads, staying West of all the major cities. Depending on how much sleep I had gotten, how much caffeine I had, and the amount of traffic, I was experiencing varying levels of anxiety and the dizziness was coming and going during these times. I made my way through Appalachia and dropped down into coastal South Carolina. I had always had a love for South Carolina for many reasons. When I was younger and my family would drive from Richmond, VA to Cocoa Beach, Florida, we would usually stop there for food, drive down to Charleston to spend a day or two, and also stock up on fireworks. It was the first state you would see palms lining the roads and highways, and I felt like I was close to our destination. The truth is the longest part of the trip is actually getting through Florida. Florida alone was usually a 5 hour trip, depending on traffic, and it was mostly flat and congested. I tried to hit up as many Waffle/Huddle Houses I could on my way back and take in the scenery of the small inland towns that had not been destroyed by the recent housing booms. After 3 days, we finally made it home, I never felt so great about getting back to my tiny little studio, making a frozen pizza, and sitting out by the pool. Nicole snored like a fiend so I had made a habit of going outside on the lounge chairs, watching archived WSOP final tables, and passing out after a while.

The day after we got back from Vermont was Tim's game, and I was very eager to get back to the other grind in my life. Nicole couldn't stand Mike to the point that she wouldn't even stay at Tim's games though she normally would hang out all night at Paulie's house for our game. She would go down the road, over the intercoastal, and hang out at the beach solo. That was her thing, and I thought it was healthy for us to not spend every waking minute together. Walking in after three weeks of no home games was odd to say the least. I felt this had been my life for 18 months now - the people had changed, but the game had stayed the same. The biggest change was that a lot of the old faces where not there that night - Vito, The Swede, Bookie, Nice Shoes, and most of the NA guys that would make the trip down to the southside. I had heard that Paper Route James had gone completely busto and was living in his work van once again. It was a long trip for most of these guys on a work night, and a lot of them just stopped coming regularly. When people started filing in, it was about 2/3 employees from the local poker room, mostly dealers, floor staff, even a valet guy who I was pretty sure was smoking rocks because his teeth were all gone and he would never shut the **** up. Tim pulled me to the side just as we were setting things up - Mike was starting off the deal for the night.

"Hey, a lot of these guys (dealers) are on the book tonight, they brought cash before, so help me count how much they get into me for as the night goes on." Great, half this table was on credit, classic Tim, at least he chose his customers wisely. Dealers made a good salary and were known for paying up their debts on time for the most part. I noticed two faces that I was not expecting - Peter and Flynn. Peter I have explained in previous encounters, but Flynn was his essentially his not too bright roommate and sidekick. He was a dealer at the local cardroom who was a complete sports degen, not unlike Mike, but he was just an ******* to everyone on the planet. He owed so much money to management for various reasons, he actually got the boot a few years ago, and had only recently come back to deal. He probably got a decent amount of tips out of pity, but that was about it. He was sort of dwarfish with short hands like a T-Rex, and didn't exactly attract the women with his style. If you didn't want to talk sports or supermodels, then he didn't want to talk to you. He also would drive Peter everywhere, and I wasn't sure why at the time.

I liked Mike starting the deal, which would normally be -EV tips-wise, but I could play in the game and make more money, and the game was kind of slow the first hour anyway. Peter and Flynn were in the seats on both sides of me, and I had to listen to them talk sports right through me. I don't mind sports at all, but they would just argue and fight all night about teams just to fight, or try and pick a fight with someone else. About an hour into the night I made a relatively tight check back on the river with KK on a Q high board and Peter started calling me a nit. I explained that my mind was stuck on Omaha and he tried to lay into me more saying that PLO was a stupid game, that only nits played it. Normally I wouldn't care about something like this, but Peter and I had a past. We got into an argument about post-flop play in PLO, I said it was stupid to get stacks in preflop because how close equity runs. He laughed and said that was exactly the reason you want to get it in preflop. I guess he was a fan of just getting lucky. It got to the point where I told him to come up to Hard Rock and play with me sometime, to sit down behind the glass wall and see who was better.

"I'd take you up on that, but I don't drive." He had a smile on his face like he was too important to have to drive places.

"You don't drive as in your a superstar and you have a chauffeur, or more like you got a DUI and you're an idiot?" I was getting more pissed and didn't care if they just got up and cashed out their only buy-in. He just mumbled something about how we can drive his car.

"You have to buy in with your own money too." I knew he didn't have the roll to play PLO at any stake, he was lucky Tim lent him money to play in this game. He was getting visibly more pissed as I continued to needle him. Flynn started getting involved, and mentioned that I should come talk to him when I could afford a Mercedes. Well hot damn, I guess I was no good at PLO if I didn't drive a Benz!

"Flynn, that's your AMG out there?"

"It sure is! What, you don't think I could drive a Mercedes?" He loved the attention he was getting about his car.

"No, I just think that you don't own it. You may drive it, but it's not yours. There's no way someone was dumb enough to give you a loan for that car."

"Well then let's go out there right now!"

After we folded our hands, I walked out with him and went out to Tim's driveway, which could hold 6 cars due to its width. He was parked in the back almost on the road and unlocked the door, and I got in the passenger seat. It was nice on the inside, but something wasn't right. It didn't have the typical AMG labeling inside, the speedo was different, and the seats were not typical. There was an AMG63 emblem on the back, but that and the wheels were about it. I opened the glove box to look for the registration. Sure enough I found it registered to a buy here/pay here place that was local and owned by one of his bosses. His boss had been selling cars to dealers and loaning money out at 29% APR, putting his employees in feudal servitude so that they could ride in luxury. I'm sure they got half his paycheck just for the car alone. I had him turn the key and it had 130,000 miles, and found out it was a 2009. Again, something wasn't right.

"Pop the hood."

"What?"

"Pop the ****ing hood, I wan't to see the engine."

He hit the hood release and I brought it up to see a 6 cylinder engine. I wasn't even sure if he knew how badly he was getting ****ed.

"How much did you pay for this thing?"

"Around $25,000." Jesus, he must have had a $1000/month car payment on that thing. My wanting to needle him just went to feeling pity for him. His boss was bending him over and using Tabasco sauce for lube. I said we should race sometime and he laughed, telling me I didn't have a chance.

We went back inside, and people were asking him about the car, his girlfriend (who was hot but was clearly a gold digger), and I just let the topic go. About 15 minutes later, a hand developed where I had picked up QQ in MP and raised to 25 on a straddle after a few limpers. Flynn and Peter were the only two callers, and on a 10 high flop, I bet 55 and Flynn raised all in and Peter called, who had me covered. Flynn and Peter never went to war like this, so it seemed a little fishy. I called and Flynn and Peter weren't showing down their hand. The board paired, and a Q hit the river so I immediately flipped over my hand and they both mucked. Peter's hand hit Willy's finger and flipped over, and it was 44, an underpair to the flop. Who calls an all in for over $200 with a hand like that? Obviously they were up to something, and it backfired. They thought I was going to fold after an all in and a call, and would split it later that night? They both asked for a credit extension from Tim, who I took aside to talk to about the hand. He had a feeling something was going on, and I told him to get them out because we had cash players waiting.

"**** this, Tim, cash me out." It was laughable because Peter was trying to make a scene with his $40 stack when he was really just throwing a temper tantrum.

"Don't spend that all in one place, maybe you should give it to Flynn for gas. He's going to need it in that AMG of his." His large spherical shape started to lunge toward me but got stopped by Tim who told him he had to leave and was trying not to scare anyone off. As they were walking out I apologized, telling him that 44 was a real bad beat. The yelling back and forth didn't stop until the door was stopped, and I heard the tires peel out of the driveway. We ended up getting two new action players that night because we ran Peter and Flynn out, but I was sure that Peter would make life at the cardroom just lovely during my next visit. We played until 9am and I stuck to playing, running up a 2200 stack and getting half of it from Tim per our deal. I went to the bagel shop, got myself two bagel dogs with jalapenos, and came to the condo to find Nicole out on the lounge chair at the pool. I went out there to eat, and once again fell asleep on the chair with half a dog in my grasp, and woke up to it on the ground with an army of ants attacking what was left. The summer sun had burnt me pretty bad after just 45 minutes, and I stumbled into the condo to sleep the rest of the day away.

son I am disappoint

these stories make my boring 9-5 office job semi-tolerable so thank you for that. I moved to south florida (west palm beach) from Charlotte, north carolina almost 2 years ago and i love it. I do miss the Sc beaches (enjoying $70 hotels during spring break @ myrtle beach w/the local filth and tourist bunnys) but the poker down here is so much better. You ever play at the palm beach kennel club? That's my local spot, great action.

oh yea and the key to grits is
*lots of butter
*thicker the better
*salt & pepper
*CHEESE, only cheddar
this is the only way to do it in Nc at least

I couldn't wait until the next town for Waffle House, I was too hungry. I feel the odd need to commit seppuku for this offense.

I have actually been to PBKC only twice - the circuit in 2012 and again in 2015. It is a nice room, but my travels don't take me to WBP as often as they do to the Miami area. I do have a good Myrtle Beach story from about 20 years ago, something about that place is great....they really need casinos.

yea myrtle beach + casinos would be the nuts. it definitely is a magical place lol. Tell the story if you get a chance

TrueStoryTeller, I apologize if this has been asked, do you keep a journal IRL?

You seem like the type to me.

That's a good question. I do keep a notepad, but I wouldn't call it a journal. I write down things that I think are important, whether they are good business ideas, minute details about this story, or life pointers that are simple but really effective. I will go back and read it and instead of reading a few paragraphs, I just read 10-15 words and can remember everything that was important for the day. I feel like things come in and out of my head so fast that I want to grab them before they are gone. It could be something as simple as "overvalue KKxx PLO8" so I know that I need to stop overplaying Kings in PLO8 and bloating pots with non-nutted low draws. So to answer your question, yes I do have a book, but it is mostly incoherent writing.


I know I said I would get a chapter out yesterday, and a few things happened. First, I bought Resident Evil - Biohazard and am not only addicted, but it's very disturbing and hard to sleep. Nicole doesn't want me to stop playing, she wants to see what happens next. Ken showed up at my house from Miami at 430am unannounced to buy some plants so I've gotten no sleep this week basically. I have a very odd schedule that has me getting up at 6am, working until 12ish, taking a nap, going back to work, and staying up late, usually getting 4 hours of sleep at a time. I need to change that, but it works well if I want to play late night poker and still do plant stuff early in the morning. Does anyone else have this sleep schedule?

I should be finished before I head out tonight.

Wow Nicole really is a keeper. (Resident Evil comment)

I used to do weird graveyard hours as a pro and thought it was fine but overtime it just wore me down.

A good sleep schedule is super important wrt health.

Competition

The dynamic that existed between Tim's game and mine was complimentary so far during the summer, and I wanted to keep it this way - bad blood makes for bad business. We had made an unwritten pact to protect our games on the southside from anything up north from forming again, our area was a place for those who didn't want to drive an hour to play cards to play locally, as well as a place for dealers to play since they couldn't at their place of employment. After the fall of the games on the northside, we didn't want anything new sprouting up. There were games in other towns, and we couldn't keep that from happening, but we didn't see them as a threat - they were small, nitty, and badly run.

People drove to play our games from up to an hour away, passing the cardroom due to the action that existed. Some nights our 1/2 games turned into an effective 5/10 with double straddles and being able to match the biggest stack after 10pm. Where else could you get action like that where the house would even loan you money so you wouldn't even have to get up out of your chair or even reach in your pocket? Well, Tim's house was the place to go for that, cash players with a good repor would get a credit extension up to a certain amount. Tim went back to his ways of lending money to just about anyone that walked through his door, and he usually got about 80% of it back.

Out of the new guys that started showing up were a couple guys from a few towns over - Bart and Stan. They were quite the dynamic duo - Bart was born and raised in Boston, Stan was straight out of the Bronx. Like many Northeasterners, they had moved down to Florida in the early 2000s to get some fresh air, take advantage of the cost of living and better job opportunities that were popping up. They were in their mid to late 40s but looked pretty rough for their age, drinking and/or drugs had taken their toll on these guys. About 5 years ago they started a wholesale gaming company, and had started a game out of their warehouse in Charlotte County that attracted a relatively sketchy clientele. I had heard of their game, but seeing as it was a 1/2 and being told most people buy in for a max of 100, I figured it was not a game worth going to play. I wasn't going to get players at a game like that who wanted to play an effective 2/5 game 30 miles away. Tim and I kept Bart and Stan just as players who wanted to play a bigger game than what they spread and didn't want to make the hour drive to the cardroom, they would rather just come here, drink free Bud Light and play. Tim figured they were good for credit, so he put them on the books eventually for $1000 between the two of them, I think Bart was in for $300 and Stan for $700. This was a small debt to Tim, so he wasn't so concerned, and they said they would bring the money the next week. Next week came around, and they only had money to play, so Tim let him play. In the meantime, they were coming to my game and playing 100% cash, they didn't seem to have a problem pulling 100s out of their pockets there.

After three weeks, I sat down with Tim, and he had enough. I was upfront about the issue with them playing all cash at my game, and knew he had to get his money at the next game.

"They took Crazy Frank too." Tim mentioned, like it was a big blow to the game. Crazy Frank was probably my least favorite player at his game. He bought in for the minimum because he was cheap as ****. He drove an SL550, was a lawyer, and rarely tipped. He was also awkward as hell to be around, he would just blurt stuff out like he had tourette's. I went to the bathroom at Tim's one time and opened the door to Frank sitting in the dark taking a ****. He turned to me and with a smile said "Thank you!" which I have never really understood even to this day. The truth was Frank was one of the core players of any night, coming first, staying till the end, and for him to disappear and drive over that way to play in their nitfest was insult to injury. These guys had played on the book at Tim's for a few weeks and were now taking players. We decided to call Bart, who dealt the game, and he said that if we wanted to, we could come play in their Wednesday game on the amount owed. The next night, Tim and I headed down to the game in Charlotte County. The address we were given was to an industrial area right off 41, and it looked kind of shady. There was a barbed wire fence that kept people off the property and a gate that was closed - you had to beep yourself in and park in one of the few spots available. I felt like I was back in Brooklyn but there were palms lining the doorway.

We got out and walked over to the door, which of course was locked. It was like getting in and out of a prison, and it started to feel like it as well. A couple of Bart and Stan's clientele were hanging outside smoking cigarettes, and they were sharing bad bead stories. There were a couple sketchy characters and just some good ole' boys mixed in for an awkward grouping. We called Bart's phone and told him we didn't want to sit outside, so he opened the door and we saw the front area of a shop that sold gaming materials. Blackjack tables, cards, shoes, felts, dice, you name it, it was there in the shop. They sold most of this stuff to local people, some recreation gaming companies for weddings and charities, but it did look very legitimate.

"You guys like the place?" Stan had asked, being very friendly. I had a feeling that Bart ran the operation and Stan just was a minority partner. Tim stated he had some nice merchandise for sale, but the back room looked like a minature deli. There was an industrial kitchen with food cooking, and a big crockpot of meat sitting on the counter. The poker table, which was very generic and cheap, barely fit in the floorspace.

"It looks like you build some nice tables, how much do you get for one?"

"For custom tables, depending on the options, between 500-$1000." I nodded my head, I didn't really care, I was trying to make conversation to make sitting in this backroom less awkward. I was just happy they didn't pat me down seeing as this place looked very sketchy to begin with, I don't think they would have been happy with me bringing a gun into their game, but this place made me feel very uncomfortable. Some lady was walking back and forth making these pots of meat and a few packs of Publix hamburger rolls suddenly appeared on the counter.

"So what is this.......meat? Sloppy Joes?"

"It's like an open face hamburger sandwich, Italian style." This was not a cuisine I was familiar with back in New York, but Stan claimed in was an old school NYC Italian recipe. It could be cat meat for all I knew. I passed, but Tim scooped up some on a platter and started gnawing away. I warned him that the meat looked suspect, but a hungry 375 pound man is hard to pry away from a pot of meat. The other guys filed in and followed suit, and everyone was eating this pot of meat and it was gone in 15 minutes. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, we get to starting the game and taking in money. Bart takes Tim and I aside and tells us that he was unaware that Stan said we could play on our credit. He had these wide eyes like he was going to kill Stan, but knew his game wouldn't run if we left.

"Well, no offense, but we normally don't play in a game where there's less than 1000 on a full table. Do you really think we would drive 20 miles the wrong way (from other cardrooms/games) to play in a small cash game unless we wanted our money back?" I was trying to do the talking that Tim seemed unable to. Usually Tim is up in people's faces about money but that meat had him laid up at the table.

"How does 100 each sound for now?" Bart said making it sound like we had struck a fair deal. I wasn't about to short stack an already ****ty game, so I told him we wanted whatever the largest buy-in was at the table, which ended up being 150. The game started off very slow, and for my rather nitty no-limit game I was by far the most aggressive player on the table. I managed to get Stan to fold AQ heads up on an A7443r board and showed 88 and he told me he put me on AK......of course. I ended up value owning myself, doubled back up to a starting stack. Tim was sitting around his same amount and most of these guys were looking to double up their $60-100 buy in and then leave. Tim got it in with AA vs KK and the guy flopped a K so Tim was down to the felt. Bart told Tim he couldn't afford to give him anymore money so Tim started getting pissed. I told them I wanted to cash out and that ended up breaking the game. Getting the $140 I had left from them was like prying teeth, but I finally got a stack of 10s and 5s, like they had just robbed a convenience store. Tim got down to business and asked about the other $700.

"How about we do this for a few more weeks and see where we stand?" Stan asked, hoping they could whittle down their debt through their rake. I didn't understand, these guys paid me in cash, why were they stonewalling Tim on his money? There was no way I was coming back here to play anything, or eat anything for that matter.

"How about you build me a table at cost?" Tim said, and after a few moments of discussion, they agreed. We went over options, and I made sure all the high end stuff was put on the list. I walked through the front of the shop, and they had Copag and Da Vinci card sets. I asked them how much they wanted for the sets of Da Vinci, and told them I was taking 4 of them and to take it off the tab. I'd pay Tim half the price of the cards in cash so at least he got an extra $40 out of the deal.

We got in the car, but we forgot one thing - Crazy Frank. On the way out, Tim rolled down his window and told them that if he heard Frank was still playing at the game at any point in the future he would come back that night and it wouldn't be to play cards. They apologized for taking a player and Tim told him not to cross the county line when looking for new clientele. They seemed very understanding and were honestly being complete pussies about the whole thing.

"I don't understand, did you say something to them that made them want to pay up suddenly?"

"I told them you were a crazy gun fanatic and that you stabbed someone over a $500 debt before." He started laughing, and so did I, but I realized I was no longer going to have those two as players in the game. I was a little bit upset it had to end that way, but at some point they were going to end up being a liability in my game as well. Our drive home was about 20 miles, and I had to stop 3 times for Tim to **** his brains out before he shat his pants in my car. The smell was getting so bad I had all four windows down and was driving in 3rd gear in case he had to pull over and drop trow on the side of the road. Tim didn't move fast so I was really scared he was going to spray his ass all over the car, I was pretty sure he was going to have to throw his clothes in the trash. By the time I pulled up to his house, he had the door half open and had waddled out to the front door.

"What about your money?" I had been paid out personally by Bart, but it was Tim's money.

"Just keep it, I owe you $60 anyway and you drove there."

I ended up having to get the seats professionally cleaned because Tim had in fact gotten his smell all over the seat and the it wasn't going away. I didn't feel bad about taking his money after all. That's what happens when you eat a pot of mystery meat in a strange place.

loooooool

You just can't make this stuff up. Too good.

Vito's Fall - A Short Story

So this is a shorter than normal story, but it is pertinent to the timeline at the moment and is somewhat independent of the events going on the southside of town. A few months after the end of Vito and the takeover of the old game with Mike, Vito and Ellen were in a bad place. I am pretty sure Vito beat Ellen on multiple occasions, by the end of the game she was so timid around him. I also had good reason to believe both Vito and Ellen were back to their old ways - they both were very energetic and had dilated pupils in the last games. They met as addicts, and they were going to part as addicts. This was a very dangerous situation, seeing as they both had a ton of assets and cocaine is a hell of a drug. One night in August Josh got a call from Vito in a manic state - 3 dudes armed with AK-47s stormed the house and robbed Vito of a lot of his jewelry, got into his safe, and stole any valuables they could. Vito had 6 bedrooms and most of them were occupied by addicts in various stages of recovery. No one knows how they found out about all the money and valuables, but all it takes is one drug dealer pissed off for this to happen. They were tied up on the ground, it was apparently an embarrassing situation.

To add to this, Vito eventually was told to his face that Ellen was ****ing Wal-Mart James. WMJ really didn't care, he was a selfish *******, but if not him, she was going to fall on one of the other players' swords. There was an awkward camaraderie amongst the NA crowd, but Ellen wanted one of the real poker players that played in the game. Well, she missed by a country mile. WMJ might as well have played his cards face up during the games, he was showing them to his neighbors, and he would slow down the game. He even tried to hit on Nicole one night I let Mike go get him in my car because the Catera was dust. Vito wasn't one to hold his emotions in. Sometime in August on a weeknight, one of the deadest times for the local cardroom, WMJ was playing 1/2 at a table abut two down from me, I was in the center of the room playing at the 2/5 game. I was facing the front door, and around 9pm the doors opened and Vito came in. Vito wasn't coming in to play poker, but only I knew that. Josh had told me Vito was looking for James and I guess Vito was tipped off that he was playing poker here. I remember I was in the big blind and wanted to just fold because I knew something was about to go down. There was a raise so I got to fold and pushed my cards away without looking at anyone else, my eyes trained on Vito. He went to the bar and ordered a draft beer, I was thinking that was odd, maybe Vito was off the wagon and not in the closet about it anymore. He picked it up and most people from my experience tend to take a big sip of a beer they just ordered - this didn't happen. Instead, Vito calmly walked over behind where WMJ was playing and sort of creeped up on him. As he got close he took the beer and jammed in right in his face, giving him a nice money shot of bud light - from my vantage point it looked like he had been shot, but instead of blood spurting, it was beer. WMJ got up in Vito's face, they were pushing each other, and security came and brought them apart. Vito was asked to leave immediately and WMJ decided he was assaulted and wanted to press charges. If Vito was smart he would have waited to do this in a private place, and if WMJ was smart he wouldn't act like a pu#sy and bring the cops into it. I don't know if Vito was handcuffed that night, but he got banned for a while.

Ellen got to keep the house all for herself because it had been a present from daddy for their wedding. Vito ended up getting a new place, new girlfriend, and was very keen on showing up that it didn't affect him. He moved away from the poker community, probably thinking he would have never gotten robbed or lost his wife to some douche had he never let people have games at his house.

That was the last night that I ever saw WMJ or Vito, and never thought twice of it.

Lol at casually ordering a fresh beer just to throw in someone's face. That reads like a scene out of a Tarantino film

A little off topic, but this is in the middle of season, and my biggest private client has me make sure all the plants on his private island are healthy and properly labeled. It is 4 acres up front and a 26 acre island that is over a mile long. It used to be a fish cannery in the 1930s and he was able to use that building permit to build a 7 million dollar house (I think I put a picture up of the place) that is all Syrian marble, copper, and tile. He has almost 20 million into it, he would be lucky to get half of that. Getting into the 40s tonight so I'm hunkered down, lol. This is why I have not been posting everyday, I'm usually out on the road doing stuff like this. Nice sunset though.....

I have been hating this cold weather. Definitely not typical Florida fashion. That's a sick property ^ btw. Where about in Fl is it located? You think you will be playing any of the circuit events at pbkc in feb? If so, ill see you there and buy you drink. Keep up the great work.

Hey man, I would love to go, as I have gone in the past. My free life has been crippled by work and that point when you start a business where you have to do everything to make sure things are working properly, and probably making minimum wage if you cut it down to an hourly. I have also had to deal with some personal issues that exist between me and Nicole's family. It has hurt my ambition for writing, hence the drop in posting. I will dedicate a short story about Nicole's mother - she ****ing deserves it!

If I do make it over there last minute, I will definitely be in touch and take you up on your offer - thanks a bunch.

EDIT - That place is called Crow Key. Just type it up on Google Maps, I will try and get a video of it, GM doesn't do it justice.

God damn. Thank you for taking the time to write all this out. Has definitely made time go by at my ****ty desk job. Looking forward to more.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

Take care of yourself and your business. We'll be here

That said,

great read well done...can you tell us what happened to the dude who scammed the football pool?

i mean 40k..what about all the people that lost $400 or more?
did you guys draw the numbers for the pool?
are their people looking for him?
anyone get paid back?
etc,etc..thx and keep posting

Good question, and the answer is I have no idea what happened to the German. He was severely depressed and drunk when I last saw him, and I have not seen or heard about him since that night. Many people were upset about the football pool, but he had sold the majority of the tickets to people who were not in the game, so only a few guys at our game were affected. Those guys knew Mike and I had nothing to do with it, but it didn't exactly make things great for the game for a few weeks.

I just managed to write most of a chapter only to have my computer restart without any notice. I've never yelled so much at an inanimate object before. Let me try again.

You may consider writing in Google cloud -- it saves automatically.