Always, always i am at awe at people who know how to play the piano. So much so, i'd trade both my hands just so i can learn how to play and master that craft. Sure, i know that Rivermaya's 20 Million (That's in the first album) starts with C-Em
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Been reading up on a lot of random things (Well, not random interests anyway) over the net including a poker forum (www.pokerforums.org) where i discovered i have still lots and lots of lessons to learn in this sport (Yes, it's a sport and you can't argue with me.)
Just the other weekend i lost 600. The total buy-in was P800, i did win P600 for placing 3rd in the first tournament then lost badly in the second set... Lesson learned: Stop playing if you can't stop drinking (tequila.)--- but heck, an all-in tastes much like the margarita, you don't really care what happens next.
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What's worse than bad news? Seven days of anticipation and seven days of waiting for that bad news.
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The (bad) news consequence is this: a 10-part 500 word post over the next couple of days or the silent bliss of not writing at all. Honestly, i am prepared for anything.
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The news is in. Changes are coming. As with changes... It stabs you in the back, though you expect the pain... And i am not even looking at this one negatively. It's the not good, not bad kind of things.
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So there, another waiting. Another level of paranoia waiting.
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A couple of hours later... and roughly half-a-pack of Marlboro Lights...
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The news is: nobody gets the boot but why do i get the feeling that every single one in this team was kicked in the nut? Sure, there's relief... But you can't deny the feeling of pseudo-melancholy. Sure, we all can breathe a little easier now. But... But, this is like blowing up the Phoenix Suns at their run and gun, seven seconds or less prime... (The analogy begins and ends with being a fun effective squad, don't go to winning all the way because that's just not fair...)
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Fast fact: Sports Desk team is officially dead. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD.
