Mr. Friendly Says So
Friday, March 31, 2006
  A guest post from a guess
Here at Mr. Friendly Industries, we believe in giving you, the aspiring retard, a chance to prove your chops against a true MasterTard (that would be me). The following post got tossed over the transom last night. I feel it is my duty to introduce you to my guest poster. Your guess as to who it is may be posted in the comments below. So, without further ado, I give you, THE X FACTOR.

Since my troubles at work mounted, I have found some solace in my play. As temperatures in Manhattan pushed the 80’s this week, I found myself going to the only place one should go as spring springs upon us. Time for the two hour drive to AC. I heard the The Tropicana call my name

Top six things you see at the pink chip game:
1. Dirty Old Nasty Man: What he did for foul winds did not compensate for his ill behavior to the cocktail waitress. As I sat down at the $7.50/$15 LHE, he shot me a dirty look. Trouble brewed for this scowly, smelly man.
2. Old Lady with Sunglasses: Unfortunately for this sweetie, her game did not mix well here. Clearly not a regular, she called all her hands down to the river with the second best. She left after 15 minutes about $200 down.
3. College Boy: Clearly an online guru. He fancied himself a table captain and, unbeknownst to him, he was a closet case.
4. The Maniacal Smelly Man: Another of the fart boys, he played any two cards to the river in an effort to push you out. He would get his.
5. Mr. Dangerous: Bronx homeboy with girl toy. He and Mr. Maniacal would mix it up by the end of the day.
6. Ms. Smoky: Probably bolted to the seat, this player knows the dealers, the cocktail waitresses, the bosses, and their families. Smoke of choice: Padron 5000 au naturel.

I sat down with $300 in pink chips and proceeded to:
1. Raise all pairs
2. Call AK – A10, KQ, QJ, J10 suited.
3. Fold everything else to a raise.
4. Hit some flops and beat some donkeys.
Hands of note:
Dirty Old Nasty Man (DONM) on the first hand, bets out UTG. Old Lady with Sunglasses calls. College Boy (CB) goes begins his riff:
“I am not worried about you grandma, but Methusela has something. I call.”
A voice from beyond table rang in "You gonna lose all your chips bitch."
Mr. Maniacal cold calls. Mr. Dangerous confers with his better half and mucks. Ms Smoky folds, then, lights up. I look down at two beautiful Aces and raise. Apparently, DONM doesn’t like to be challenged, so he caps (Aaaaaahhhhh!). Old Lady calls and CB goes into the tank. After a minute, he mumbles “Well, I know that I have you (me) beat and grandma is merely donating. So it’s just you and me old timer.” He calls. GirlToy chimes in again. "Yeah, pile it up Mr. Sunglasses. You gonna get slapped." Mr. Maniacal calls. I call.
Flop comes AsQc2c.
Mr. Maniacal bets. Before I act, I hear from the bleachers, “Watch out now, honey! “ I pause briefly then push it up a notch. DONM folds. Old Lady calls. Action to CB. “I am surprised Grandpa. I had you on Queens. I may as well call. It’s cheap enough.” Mr. Maniacal calls.

Turn is a 2s.

Action to Mr. Maniacal. He bets out. I pop it up. Old Lady calls. College Boy stops the action to tell me “This is where we separate the donkeys from their cash.” He caps. From two seats away Ms. Smoky gives me a wink. Maniacal calls. I call. Get this, the old Lady calls. Away from the table I hear “You’re going to get reamed now, so get ready, honey!"

The river is another club. Mr. Maniacal checks.
Time to reel in some lemurs. I bet. Old Lady calls and then the GirlToy gets up from her chair.
"You gonna get it now Mr. Sunglasses. Be time to go back to PartyPoker! My girl is going to KICK YOUR ASS!"
Before playing College Boy actually says to GirlToy "Will you please shut the fuck up!" There was a pause while GirlToy sat down and Mr. Dangerous got up.
"Sir, I would deeply appreciate if you keep a civil tongue in your head. Please speak respectfully to my lady friend or verily, I will call you outside where I will proceed to beat you into a bloody, pulpy mess."
I just gave you the family version of what he said. In realtime, there were more f-bombs. CollegeBoy turned white raised and sat down. "It's ok, none of you are going to be here much longer."
By the time he finished whimpering this, Ms. Smoky caught my eye and loudly proclaimed, "I think our girl here has the goods, young man. You might want to save some money."
Maniacal finally realizes there is no pushing this girl out of HER pot. He folds. I cap. Old Lady calls. And there was a moment before College Boy called that I could see red hot hate in his eyes. He looked at me with the kind of contempt one usually reserves for panhandlers. He called and said, with some triumph, "Can you beat a boat?"
I beamed. "How high?"
He flipped. Queens full of twos.
I triumphed. "Why yes, yes I can beat that with my Aces. Aces full of twos."
GirlToy crowed.
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew my girl had you by the joint! You done lost all your tuition money now boy! Go on home!"
Mr. Dangerous fumed.
"Now would be a good time for you to leave as your head is still attached to your neck."
Only he dropped 2 mofos and 3 f-bombs.
Ms. Smoky gave me a thumbs up and said "I knew you had it in you honey."
The Old Man grumbled, farted, then told me I should find a good man.
Mr. Maniacal put on his tinfoil hat and moved to the $1/$3 table.
And Ms. Sunglasses, she was holding Kc4c.
Well, they were suited.
In all my years, nothing feels as good as riding home on the fumes of victory at the Trop pink game. My troubles will get resolved, one way another. This bird of prey will fly again.
Thank you mystery poster and happy april fools' day!
  Calling Both Readers!
Bigger. Penis.

Aw heck, I’m sorry. I should explain first.

Last night, the executives at got together for a little late night tete-a-tete. You see the traffic numbers at this here blog are not all they should be.

Milf. Spank. Work from home. Porn. Teen.

And they told me I have a week to get more people to view the site. They had a few suggestions:
1.) Trip reports from the Playboy Mansion
2.) Nudey Pictures
3.) Tranny, sorry, more poker content
4.) Fewer retardation stories, NAMBLA (dammit).

Of course they didn’t say it, but if the traffic numbers don’t rise (one in the pink), then I get a one way ticket on the slow boat to Mumbai. (two in the stink).

The brains behind this here blog (me), thought I might get a little more traffic with some subliminal keyword placement. Bear Gay. Sorry for the inconvenience.

So, if you enjoy your unadulterated Mr. Friendly and you don’t want him replaced by some inhuman, humourless, hack from corporate, read and get your friends to read this here site everyday. Trust me, you don’t want this to continue.

Sorry again.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
  Overheard on the Riverwalk
While taking my lunchtime constitutional today, I overheard the following:

Walker #1: Hey, the river smells pretty bad today.
Walker #2: Less water, more sewage.

Poker content to come.
  Scary Big Teeth
Welcome to today’s installment of Moronicon Theatre!

Minding my business at work the other day. Sending emails to the test staff in the hope that we can run through my scripts before the Friday at 3:30, one of the H1Bs pokes his head into my cube.

“Mr. Friendly financial guru?!”
“Yo.” (that’s how I fuggin roll.)
“What do you think of financial guru Robert Kiyosaki?”
“Yes, I very much value your advice.”

Life is good for Robert Kiyosaki. It has been a long, hard road to get here but, now, he sits at the apex. Speaking engagements ring in at 40 large a pop. His books, thanks to Amway and PBS, capture three places in Amazon Top 100, “How to be a Rich Dad” classes chime in at a hefty 5K per seat. I can’t argue with his personal success.

I don’t think that is what H1B wanted to know.

“Mr. Friendly, financial guru sir. What do you think of his advice?”


What advice?

The network marketing?
The real estate?
Or the precious metals?

I ask the H1B the crucial question:
Why would you consider advice from someone who:
a.) contradicts himself
b.) does not dabble in specifics
c.) gives dopey advice?

I get the Blank Stare.

That’s cool. I know fighting KiyosakiNation is a joke. You are better off chasing donkeys from a poker table. KiyosakiNation doesn’t care that he gives unethical, maybe illegal, advice like courting rich friends in order to get insider information on stocks. They don’t care if his advice is stupid like deferring the principal payment on a private mortgage into the far future. They don’t care that he makes a large portion of his money writing books, doing seminars, and speaking.

Doesn’t faze them one bit.

They do care about The Big Dream though. You know, the one where they have the
Big Car.
Big House.
Big Trophy Wife.

As a self help/richdad/advice provider, Big Bob was delivering the goods.
Big House, check.
Big car, check.
Big trophy wife, check and mate

For his trouble, H1B and KiyosakiNation receive:
1.) Buy the books, they get pounds of flammable material
2.) Buy Amway products, get some decent product PLUS dinnertime marketing calls for eternity.
3.) Contribute to PBS, they get the satisfaction that they contributed to a worthy cause. One that is bested by Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, The Living Channel, Home and Garden TV, Food Network, CNBC, National Geographic
AND puts the arm on you 4 to 6 times a year. Plus the added bonus of premier
Moronic content like your favorite guru, Robert Kiyosaki.

For my trouble, H1B pretends he doesn’t understand me.
“What do you think of Financial Guru Robert Kiyosaki?”
“Well, what’s wrong with Suze Ormon?,” I said
“She is financial guru?”
I added “Yeah, her advice is much more sound. And there is a plus”
“What is this plus?”
“In a pinch, Suze’s mutated front choppers give her the ability to bite Kiyosaki head clean off!”

Don’t be hating on me, I merely provide this theatre as a Public Service Announcement.
  Hey, how do you like my new digs?
Don't be shy! Come on in!

Kick your shoes off and set a spell.

Take a look at some past posts...
Or maybe some nice comments...
Check out the links, pretty scary stuff there...

Record of Retardation Returns Real Soon.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
  Almost as good as the female OBGYN telling you that circumcision is no big deal...
The blog hit rate has skyrocketted since I posted my circumcision story.

Went from 2 a day to 5.

Hope I provided some service to my new readers.

Get back to work.
Monday, March 27, 2006
  First cut is the deepest
The first cut is the deepest, baby I know
The first cut is the deepest
--Cat Stevens(Steven Demetre Georgiou) (Yusaf Islam)

Boys, you might want to skip this post.

Mr. Friendly wouldn’t usually share this information but he has a purpose. Mostly, I need some evidence on hand when Reginald Martinez Friendly asks me “Why didn’t you do something?”

I am trying kid.
I am in your corner.

For months now, Mrs. Friendly and I have discussed the merits/problems with circumcision. I stand firmly in the Pro camp. The Mrs. wanted me to give her a reason.

I play my Aces(poker content!). It is reported that 90% or more of the boys in this area get circumcised. So I say:

“Look, in this town, you need to conform. If our little boy is the only one in that locker room with a helmet, his gym class buddies will NEVER, EVER let him forget about it. The helmet must go!”

Holy Jeebus, she agrees…with caveats.

Well, of course.

She thinks that the procedure will cause some trauma to the boy and she wishes to reduce it through the pharmacological magic. Ok, I am down with that.

We offer burnt sacrifices to the medical gods. Dr. Basketball is not the name of Mrs. Friendly’s OBGYN but she was christened with this particular moniker because in Mrs.’ words:
“She is so dumb she got through medical school on a basketball scholarship!”

When Mrs. Friendly gets around to it, the discussion takes a turn towards the absurd.
Mrs. Friendly: Can you do anything to ease the pain?
Dr. Basketball: Generally, we don’t do anything because babies don’t feel pain.
MF: Can I attend the procedure (total bluff but wait)
DB: No, parents are too traumatized.
MF: Umm, by what.
DB: Oh, the screaming.
MF: Uh, huh. Would you consider anesthetizing the baby, you know, to alleviate trauma?
DB: Not someone that young.
MF: Do you need to strap the baby down with no sedation?
DB: Yes. I have done this many times without any incident. Without the straps, there would be too much wiggling.

I bet.

Would you want someone with a God complex and forceps making a beeline for your johnson?

Let’s take a break for a second to visualize the scene. By Mrs. Friendly’s reports, I know Dr. Basketball was getting a bit upset at this point. Mrs. F. mentioned irritation in her voice, fidgety hands, and a posture that generally suggests YOU DARE QUESTION ME!

Well, yeah, that’s what we do best.

Anyhow, back to the tape
DB: I am not comfortable at all discussing this.
MF: what? Huh? Um, should we discuss this with a môhel?

Wait a fuggin second, Doc. You want me to sit here and have you stonewall questions, THEN I should trust you,
with a scalpel no less,
around my son’s penis!

Let this be a lesson to the rest of you. Just because someone has M.D. at the end of her name does not make her smarter, more godlike, or a better person than you. It certainly doesn’t mean they have the inside track to your best interests.

Anyways, back to my main point…
I can’t hear you Doc. Pull your head out of your arse!
Forget it. Mrs. F. and I will talk to someone we can trust with our boy’s tallywhacker.

So we are getting a letter together for our pediatrician. I thought he told me once that he does the deed. Since he knows we are crazy and he knows we know where he lives, he is a little more compliant than most doctors.

Here is the letter I wrote for Mrs. Friendly to send to the pediatrician:

Dear Dr. BabyDoc,
Let’s begin with the good news: Junior is having a baby brother. We expect our son to arrive in late June/early July and we can’t wait for him to join our family.

Although Mr.Friendly convinced me that there is some, non-medical, necessity to the procedure, we do, however, have some concerns with respect to the circumcision procedure.

With respect to child restraints during the circumcision, we think sedation might make the situation a little less terrifying to our little boy. Additionally, we wondered if there was a means of anesthetizing the area prior to procedure.

We understand that the OBGYN usually does the procedure. However, those we have spoken with told us that neither of these options is applied to newborns. That leaves the question to you: Do you know of anyone (pediatrician, etc.) that might circumcise our son at some point with a sedative and/or a local anesthetic?

Thanks, in advance, for any help you give on this matter. See you soon with both kids.

Mrs. Friendly

That’s not very threatening, is it?

This story will certainly be continued, I’m sure.

My respect to any men who read this entire entry.
Friday, March 24, 2006
  Sounds you should not hear... the stall next to yours:
1.) Grunting
2.) whistling
3.) heavy breathing
4.) singing
5.) that noise Errol Flynn made in those old Pirate movies. You
know the one where he would jump from ship's mast, knife in hand,
land on the sail and slowly lower himself by ripping the sail with
his knife. Sounded something like...

6.) For the love of God, NO CELL PHONE CALLS!
7.) Did I mention muttering? I mean, for crying out loud, do you
think we CAN'T HEAR YOU! Work on your
passiveaggressivelatenthomosexualhostility in the comfort or
our own home or therapist's office.
Not here, people are trying to concentrate.
8.) Bees buzzing. I mean, what the heck will you do if they attack?
9.) Splashing.
10.) Women's voices...oh shat! I walked into the ladies room again.
11.) Snoring
12.) Screaming. C'mon what the hell are you passing there? A bowling ball?
13.) Exclamations like "Oh, boy!", "Oh, mama!", or "Ay Chihuahua!"
14.) Foot tapping...wait, that's what I do. FU! Its my defense
mechanism for the bathroom lunatics.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
  Big Turnout at HPT
HPT returned to its home base last night. theHost fired up the crock pot and invited the following donkeyfied players:

WallyBall (second game)

By 6:30, slow cooked meatballs hit the air.
At 6:35, cards are in the air. I fold.
At 6:36, BMW and flyingDane are playing "tight."
The Dane's flush beats Beemer's two pair.
At 6:38, I fold. Cooper and the Dane mix it up. Trips are good for the Dane.
6:39, oh, I guess I will fold.
Good fuggin thing.
Cooper and Vegas mix it up. The board has four clubs of the A345 variety. I am guessing this is a battle to see who has the biggest club. Vegas is betting hard. Cooper (AKA the Rock) is right with him at the turn. By the river, I had figured it out. Vegas shows Qc (2nd NUT). Cooper shows, wait...


for the straight flush.

Next fuggin hand...
I fold. Cooper and Vegas are heads up again on a four club board. Indeed, Vegas holds the Queen and takes it down.

Someone check Vegas' pockets.

Me for the next few orbits:
fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, folditty-fold-fold

Time out for a coffee update:
I go over to the Dunkin'. Some poncho wearing, fat arse, bucket head is chatting with some lady in line. As I try to navigate around her, um, personage, she makes her move and cuts me off. She didn't have to do alot to box me out of line but she did it and she did it quickly. It is fat fugs like this that make me wish I had my baseball bat on hand all the time.

7:30 or thereabouts LetsChat takes the lead pipe to theHost and BMW with the Nut Flush. All together now:
Nice hand, LetsChat.

you suck.

7:40 I get the hammer and raise it up to 5xBB. SonofVegas calls. Flop has 7. I check like the pussy I am and he goes all in. Yup, he pushed me off it with his sixes. I AM WEAK AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT.

7:45 flyingDane and me hook up. He bumps it up weakly from early position. I am sitting in the BB and I bet about the pot. I am committed here. He sees something with my play and pushes. I call. His 8s vs. my 3s. I don't improve and I AM OUT THIRD FROM THE BOTTOM.

Later on, Dane was telling me that I appeared to be stuck on whether to call or raise, so he figured I had a low pair. Good Eyes, flyingDane.

About half an hour later, the four losers (Mr. Vegas is our addition) line up for another "winner take all" tournament. Only one highlight:

BMW and I are in a pot. I have Qd10x on a flop of Qx10dxd. BMW pushes his straight. I call with my two pair and four to the flush. Turn does not help but, here it comes...

River is a lovely diamond. And I yell the immortal..

Flush, Flush, give it to me!!!!

Not only am I weak, but I am an arsehole. Sorry about the outburst.

BMW was cool. He took the suckout like a man. He should be applauded.

For my part, it will be a long time before I live it down.

Back to the main tourney:
8:30 We have three survivors,
LetsChat - crushing table with run of good cards/good play,
Cooper - crushing posers that try to knock her off her hands (right Dane?),
MillionDollarMan - looking for something to crush.

MillionDollarMan gets knocked out in third. The dude takes a two month hiatus and moneys...
That is something to byatch about.

8:50 Mr. Vegas and I chop $20 in the side tourney, so it wasn't all bad.

9:00 LetsChat levels Coopers 4s on the turn. We have a winner.

What are the lessons for our crew so far.
1.) LetsChat is playing well and on a rush. Just remember to bring cash next time, dear.
2.) I am an arsehole.
3.) Your nut flush will not play, sir.
4.) Jockeying for position at the Dunkin' is not cool. Especially, when you really should be avoiding doughnuts dear.

WallyBall is added for the second game. He, Dane, MarkyMark, and me are clustered in one corner of the table. Let's call the corner "The Corner of Poker Death." Only one of us would make the first division.
Wally got the knock first, but before he did a crash and burn, he suggested a format change.


I might be down with that, we will see.
I think his suggestion might have been caused by
1.) laying down 75o that would have turned a full house.
2.) pushing a weak ace before the blinds ate him up.

I'm next on the launching pad when LetsChat's 9s stand up to my "push/prayer" Q10s. I don't improve.
Bye bye.

Mark is next. MM is gone.

By this time, it is theFlyingDane, theHost, and LetsChat left. I don't know how the Dane got the boot because Daddy is tired and must get up in the morning.

However, I have from my source that LetsChat and theHost were the last two soldiers.

It broke down thusly:
1.) LetsChat has a 5-1 chip lead.
2.) LetsChat is getting tired.
3.) theHost hunkers down and shows his determination by "beering up" around midnight.

LetsChat is discombobulated by this display of sticktoitiveness and loses.

But that was after his most memorable moment:

While three way, 600/300 blinds, LetsChat pops it up a couple grand. theHost calls and flyingDane is
down. On a QJQ flop, theHost pushes and LetsChat goes into the tank...

He sits there and thinks...
I finish a couple a beers,
yeah, he's still thinking...

Finally, he calls and flips a Queen and a Jack.

theHost flips a K6 and throws his chips at LetsChat.

Now that is your "uncool" moment of the night. I am relieved because the shame is lifted from my shoulders.

As for LetsChat, well played sir, well played.

Results for the evening.

LetsChat makes booku cash.
962 meatballs eaten.
1,543 chips thrown.
2,245 f-bombs dropped (2000 by me). Sorry Cooper.
10,435 ounces of beer consumed.
1 phone call from Mrs. Friendly.
A million laughs.

Back to work.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
  How to Make Enemies and Get Paid Simultaneously
A guest post from theHost

Power Poker at it’s best!!!!!

Playing on-line last night. Dealt 7, 2 hearts. Limpers all around to me so I call.

Flop is q,10 hearts and a black card. Dickhead on my left beats $350. Everybody folds to me. I’m feeling randy so I call. Leaves me with about $400 in chips.

Turn is a heart – I hit my flush. Dickhead bets $300. I go all in. Why he does not put me all in shows his dickheadedness.

River is a meaningless card.

He shows pocket queens.

I blog “All Bow to the Power of the Hammer”. LOL!!!!

He proceeds to play stupidly slow the rest of the game (forcing us to watch the clock every time it is his action).

I think he was mad at me. I took second place.

If you need more reasons to hate me, stop by Chateau Host this evening for more tomfoolery.
  Ready for Takeoff
Guest post from the flyingDane
The little pilot was already asleep.

Man, how the hell does he have more hair than me?

When the little guy grows up, I'll teach him everything I know.

Step 1: Know your limits
Step 2: Play within your limits
Step 3: Tight is Right
Step 4: No one, AND I MEAN NO ONE, pushes danes off their blinds.

He'll be ok.

But I must help him.
But how?

I know...

Teach him how to love knowledge, family, life?

Teach him how to check-raise?

I must practice.

Good thing theHost is having a game tonight.

Those fish will not know what hit them!

Good night little guy. Daddy's gotta go skin some fish.
  It's good to be the BigMan.
He roused himself from sleep confident in the knowledge that the world was his for the taking. Engineering projects were child's play. Cold call RFPs bowed to his sweet written words and golden number crunching. His ten man (one lady) crew took his cue and made his dreams real.

He was a motivator, a manager, a craftsman.
Master of his Destiny.

Then he got the call...

theHost sought his attention. The HPT home game would be in Latham tonight.

Was he ready?

Could he overcome hammer suckouts? Would his mind melt at the sight of his Aces getting cracked again and again and again?

Was he mentally tough enough to engage Mr. Friendly's incessant blathering?

Would he be able to push rock like Coopers and maniac BMWs off their hands, or better yet, show the best hand?

Would he?..Could he?..Shall he?

He was the fuggin' Iron Man! First dubbed the BigMan in this space months ago, he believed in his own BIGNESS!

Now he is the MillionDollarMan and the world was his if he just asked.

Will he be there, theHost asks.

Will he be there?

Will he be there?

Of course he will. Ready to crush the table with his fists.

See you there, my man.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
  Would you rather be smart or lucky?
By request, tonight we have the Genius/Retard poker challenge. Our contestants are:

Dr. Peter Sklansky, noted mathematics theoretician and would be poker pro/blogger.
Ricky Retardo, noted newspaper salesman at my office and Special Olympian.

The rules are
1.) Play No Limit Hold 'Em headsup with $100 buy in. Rebuys are not only welcome but encouraged.
2.) No railbirding.

The prizes are
1.) All money won is yours.
2.) Bobby Bracelet's bracelet.

I will narrate the action and the players speak for themselves.

Without further ado, let's shuffle up and deal!

First Hand (Dr. Peter Sklansky (DPS) is the button, Ricky Retardo (RR) is BB) Blinds are $1/$2
DPS: I raise $6.
RR: Uh, uh, uh, ummmmm. I warm.
Me: Ricky, call, raise, or fold.
RR: What?!!!
Me: Ricky, you can call the good Doctor's bet, raise it at least $6, or fold and lose.
RR: Oh.
Me: What's it going to be Ricky?
RR: What?
Me: Raise, call, or fold.
RR: I raise.
Me: How much Ricky?
RR: What?
Me: You raised the Doctor. How much would you like to bet?
RR: uh,All?
Me: Ricky is All In! Dr. Sklansky, would you like to call?
DPS: I call.

The Doctor flips over Ah Kh and Ricky flips 8h 5h.

DPS: You're kidding...
Me: Let's see the flop!

Flop comes Ac Ks 4h

Me: The flop gives the Doctor two pair.
DPS: My chances of losing at this point is roughly 3.74 percent.
RR: Times Union is 50 cents!
Me: Let's see the turn.

Turn comes up 6h.

DPS: He is still a 10 to 1 dog.
RR: I like dogs.
Me: Ricky still has a chance with his one outer.

River is 7h.

Me: The river gives the Doctor the nut flush. Ooohhh, but Ricky completes his straight flush.
Ricky wins the pot and doubles up.
RR: I feel wet.

Me: Ok. The Doctor suffered a miserable suckout on that hand and has rebought into the game.
The standings are Dr. Peter Sklansky $100 and Ricky Retardo $200. Deal the next hand please!

RR is on the button...

Five minutes later.
Me: Well Ricky, do you wish to complete?
RR: What?
Me: Raise, call, or fold.
RR: I want to call...
Me: Ricky calls!
RR: my dog. Here Sparky!
Me: Well Doc, what's it going to be.
DPS: I check.
Me: Let's see that flop!

Flop comes Kd Ks 2c.
Me: Good Doctor, the bet is to you.
DPS: I will check.
Me: Ok Ricky, you can check, bet, or fold.
RR: Check what? The dog...he's a boy.
Me: Do you want to check or bet. Or you can fold. What will it be?
RR: I will check the fold.
DPS: Are you kidding? What are you talking about?
Me: Easy Doc. Ricky, what do you mean?
RR: I always check the fold on the newspapers.
Me: No the bet, Ricky. Check, bet or fold?
RR: I guess I better check. He looks mad.
Me: Oh, the Doctor, he's ok. He just needs to remember that this is just a game.
Let's see the turn.

Turn comes up Ah.
RR: Match!
Me: Wait a minute Ricky! What's it going to be Doc?
DPS: I will check to Mr. Match.
Me: The bet is to you Ricky. Do you want to check, bet, or fold.
RR: Hm.
Me: It is time Ricky. What do you want to do?
RR: Pokme Champ says always bet Aces. I bet 40 newspapers.
DPS: Huuunnh!
Me: What's that in dollars, Ricky?
RR: Huh.
Me: What's your bet in dollars?
RR: 10?
Me: Ok. The pot is $100. Let's see the river
RR: Doctor scary.

River comes up Ad.
DPS: I bet $50 Corky! You want to play! I'LL PLAY!
Me: The Doctor is all in, Ricky. What do you want to do?
RR: I want to go to the potty.
Me: In a minute, Ricky. Do you want to call the bet?
RR: Is that quick?
Me: Yes.
DPS: Come on, Genius! Play me. I want action!
Me: Easy Pete. This is still a friendly game...Ricky, do you want to bet?
RR: Yeeeessss...
DPS: I got you now...heh, heh, heh.

Ricky calls the bet. The pot is $200. The Doctor flips his Kh Kc.

Me: Oooooh, good play Doc! Looks like you are going to double up!
Can you beat quad Kings, Ricky!
RR: Uuuhhh...I don't know. Mommy told me never to fight.
Me: Just flip your cards, Ricky.

Ricky flips As and Ac.

Me: Ricky's quad Aces eat up the Doctors quad Kings! Ricky has another big win. He is up to $300!
Ricky: Uh, uh, uh, I won. I WON! I AM BEST AT POKEME!
DPS: 2 got to be kidding me! This guy...this hand...I want a new deck...I want to check
my calculator...I need to talk to Phil Gordon...uh,uh,uh, REBUY!!!!

We take a five minute break for tempers to settle.

Me: Ok. Dead Money has rebought for another $100. Ricky has the big stack with $300. Shuffle up and deal!

RR (on the button): My pants smell!
DPS: C'mon Moron! You will not suckout on me this time!
RR: He's mean.
Me: The doctor isn't mean, Ricky. He is just unglued. Do you want to bet?
RR: I don't know. Is this good?
Me: Don't show me Ricky! You have to decide yourself. Will you bet?
DPS: I can't believe this. He's barely functional. He can't even wipe his arse.
Me: Well, nothing for nothing Doc, but he is wiping his arse with you right now.
RR: I will bet...$100.
Me: Ricky will put the Doctor all in again! Do you call Doc?
DPS: Jeebus, I don't know. This knucklehead can have anything...
RR: I forgot to look at my cards...
DPS: Exactly! You are the prototypical Donkey! You don't know what you are doing? This contest is ridiculous! I can't believe I got roped into this..., I can't believe I am scared of this tard!
Wait a minute, he is trying to push me off. I have a hand. He can't do it three times in a row.
Me: Ok, let's flip the cards.
The doc shows 10 9s and Ricky has...the Hammer.
Let's see the flop.

The flop is 8s Jh 5s

Me: Neither player has a made hand. The doc is a way ahead with and open ended straight draw and a flush draw. Let's see the turn!
DPS: The worm has turned Corky! I am still better than a 10 to 1 favorite.
RR: I like 2s.
DPS: You like 2! Yeah, you like number two! Your momma!
Me: Right. The turn please.

The turn is the Ace of diamonds.

Me: No help! Ricky has 4 outs! Let's see the river!
RR: 4 whats?!
Me: 4 outs Ricky. You need either of the two sevens or twos that are not spades.
RR: Two and seven are nine. Is that good?
Me: For the love of God, please deal.

The river is the 2 of clubs.
DPS: what, What, WHAT!!!! I don't believe I lost $300 to this illiterati! He can't even spell poker
and he beat me three times...IN A ROW...WHAT AM I THINKING?!!!

I need to drink.
I need to think.
I need to rest.
I suck.

Me: Great Job sucking out, Ricky! You beat the Dr. KnowNothing 3 times for a grand total of $300. Enjoy your winnings!
RR: Can I poop now?
Me: Whatever you want Ricky! Poop, wipe, repeat. Go buy $300 worth of scratch off tickets! I don't care! You won! And you taught us all a very valuable lesson!
RR: I go now.

Ricky runs off.

Me: Poop in peace my boy! Poop in peace.
  Hire some kid.
Every once in awhile, someone stops me on the street or at the poker game and asks:

"Hey, Friendly, I got a couple a bucks and want to invest. Who you got?"

To which, I respond: "Find yourself some kid. Hungrier, the better."

For those of you who need more direction meet Shai, a 22 year old who is opening up a hedge fund. Or Mike, his 15 or 16 year old counterpart.

If either of you readers don't recognize sarcasm, don't go to the links and give these kids money and then blame me.

There are some bad beats that are just not bad beats.

Theory is no substitute for experience. Despite their high functioning, these guys' youth preclude you and me from taking the plunge.

Sorry, I will try to be funnier later.
Monday, March 20, 2006
  This week's winner
Easily the hands down winner for best referral of the week. My gift to you is so far the most interesting search that found this site.

Enjoy and if you are from the area and need some action, feel free.
  Beware Poker Content
It's Friday night. The Mrs. and Junior are out like a light.

Time for, you guessed it, Poker Shenanigans!

Signed up for a 27 seat ($10) SNG.

Fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fo...

WAIT A MINUTE, I just got AKh!

I will raise sir. It is $150 to go. 1 miserable caller.

King on the flop...

I will bet the pot sir!

My opponent thinks...
and thinks...
and thinks (guess he didn't see my previous hands).

About an hour later, he mucks.

I return to my original strategy, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold, fold...

At the break, about half the field is gone. I stand about the same as when the game started. Due to the passivity of the table, I am in about 10th place.

Then, cue lightning bolt and thunderclap, I start to get hands better than 52o.

Slowly I move up the list. I catch a few breaks when my opponents, AKA Limpy McGimps let me see flops with QJ and K9.

My God! I start to hit flops too!

My M got down to 6. But since I started to see cards, I never got in a "push/prayer" mode.

Except once.

In the big blind, I get A3 suited. In MP, somebody pushes. I have him covered about three times but I also KNOW I have a better hand.

I generally don't know shat! But I know I have a better hand.

Everyone folds to me.

Dive in Baby, the water is great!

Ace on the flop and I am off to the races.

Only other hand of note is my Nut straight off the flop. I try to get tricky and check. He pushes...

Nyeh,heh, heh. I call.

Turn and river gives the board my straight. We split. I curse.

However, the run continues.

At the final table, it was more like a shooting gallery. Aces (caught it once) is better than your 9s. AK gets filled. Your Jacks, sir, are no good.

Ping...yes, I can beat your suited connectors.

Ping...your Aces, sir, are no good. Please do not slowplay next time.

All in all, a real whirlwind of a card rush.

And your humble correspondent wins $100.

WooHoo for me! What a nice welcome back from my little poker break.

Ah yes, the obligatory "All my opponents are fishy tourists! I can't believe I don't do this for a living!"

Just wait until theHost's next game...
Thursday, March 16, 2006
  That's just what he wants you to think...
Play harp music...

I am having a flashback moment.

The year was 1994 and I was a newly minted Econometrician for, you guessed it, a New York State Agency. After everyone was done reading newspapers for the day, right after lunch, we would have a project/staff/pre meeting. Invariably, these would turn into peeing contests of the "Well, I must be smarter than you, listen to what I just speculated/surmised/bullshatted" variety. Again invariably, the counter thrust to that argument was the intelligentsia version of "You are a retard because . NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE, ever pretended to be unaware of his peers pet theories, jargon, bullshat, etc. It made you look weak.

I, of course not immune to this particular disorder to this day, thought they were all retards. In retrospect, I was right on the money. It's just that I was right for the wrong reason. Back in day, when I was wheeling/dealing stepwise regression and non-linear sampling models (see what I mean), I thought I was one of the "smartest people in the room." I WAS INFECTED BY THE BURGEONING BATTLE OF BLOVIATING. My fellow combatants/colleagues were not retarded because they disagreed with me, but because they fell for this "mine's bigger than yours" mentality.

At this point, you are probably wondering "Mr. Friendly! What the HELL does that have to do with a.) poker b.) investing c.) doughnuts d.) retards.

Let's get down to it.

Yesterday, I linked an apparent retard. This .guy's profile, picture, blog, and comments scream:


He has the poker blogging community on tilt by playing the fool.

To him, I say, well done sir!

I think I am on to him though.

Consider my thoughts above on my early state work experience. Boiled down, it went like this:
1.) Me insecure about my intelligence/standing.
2.) Me need reassurance.
3.) Me look good winning verbal battles.
4.) Me belittle other's thoughts, ideas, etc.
5.) Me an arsehole.

Consider also that the poker world (blogging, non-blogging, professional, online, etc.) is just fuggin rife with "mine's bigger than your's" mentality.

So what happens when you take the reverse tack.

Perhaps by pretending to be a retard you can set the bloggers on fire.
A drunken retard.
A drunken, woman beating retard.
A drunken, woman beating, deadbeat daddying retard.
A drunken, woman beating, deadbeat daddying, fundamentalist christian, illiterate, ,delusional, farting, and worst of all, bad poker playing retard.

If that was the objective, theChamp has succeeded tremendously. A partial list of the pissed off and head scratchers:
1.) Female poker bloggers like Gracie, Maudie, change100.
2.) Illuminated men who wish to protect the ladies or are offended by theChamp's comments. BG, Waffles, HOP, or Duggle.
3.) The guy who lost a $10 prop bet to theChamp.

Why do I think this dude's postings are engineered?

Because they are JUST TOO RETARDED!

His main points of poker delusions of grandeur, women bashing, drinking are just too gosh darned consistent. I took my theory down to the guy who runs newstand in our building, Ricky Retardo, and we had the following conversation.

Me: Hey, Ricky.
RR: Hey, hey, hey,
Me: Did you get a chance to read the blog posts I brought down yesterday?
RR: You know I can't read!
Me: Ok. Do you think theChamp suffers from down's syndrome or something like that.
RR: I like paper.
Me: Focus Ricky! Can the developmentally disabled churn out 500 words on a blog per day?
RR: Huh?
Me: Can retards write?
RR: I have to pee.

All right, so we know a couple of things.
1.) Generally, people of lower IQ have trouble focusing and expressing themselves consistently and coherently.
2.) I am more retarded than Ricky.

I stipulate the following:
1.) TheChamp is consistent.
2.) TheChamp is coherent.
3.) TheChamp has NO trouble communicating his point of view.
4.) Given my experience with the Intelligentsia, I think he is pulling a fast one by not explicitly showing how smart he is. Call it SMART LEVEL 2.

Or he is a very highly evolved Moron.

He definitely has some people going beserk.

As always your comments are appreciated...
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
  This can't be real...
Where is his wallet on a chain?

If either of my two readers is a single female, I think I have the answer...

Just a click away.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
  Another sign that spring is just around the corner...
I saw a coworker wearing culottes today.

Only one odd thing...

Monday, March 13, 2006
  If You really need a financial guru...
...I will leave my address at the bottom of this post. Why should you trust Mr. Friendly with your financial data, plans, goals? Hell, he can't do much worse of a job than some of the gurus out there.

I am talking to you .Robert Kiyosaki. Tell your Rich Dad that I want to kick him in the arse.

Not that I have a problem with the guy selling a couple of books...

But he is preying on the weak. I, more nobly, make fun of them.

Consider Robert's outlook. He presents the following as truisms:

A 401(k) is not a retirement plan (it's a savings plan).

Bonds aren't safe.

Saving money is risky.

Why mutual funds have such low returns.

What is inflation.

Why workers are taxed more than owners.

Why pensions are disappearing -- legally

Oooookkkkkkk. What are you getting at Bob? I shouldn't save. I especially shouldn't buy bonds or mutual funds. I shouldn't work, I should own. Wait a fuggin' minute, WHAT THE FUG ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!

Do you mean to say that I should join your tribe?
Go to your, "ahem, Investment Seminars?"
At $3,000 a pop?

Um, no.

Wait a minute, you wrote a book. You wrote 10 books. Where can I get my hands on them?

Before I buy anything, however, what sage bit of wisdom are you offering for free?

Buy gold, silver, oil, and land.


Cancel the book order.

It's not that I don't think commodities are not a valuable hedge against dollar devaluing, it's that this guy's advice is inconsequential and late. Buying a Krugerrand every pay day may make sense. Because the long term growth rate of gold is weak, depending on those Krugerrands as my retirement vehicle is just plain STUPID.

I think both of my readers remember the Jimmy Carter days. Remember $850 gold. Remember the next time gold hit $850. Yeah, me neither. Hasn't happened. Silver, until recently, tanked for 20 some odd years too. As did oil, copper, grains, you, fuggin, name, it.

With the exception of the last few years, commodities have sucked the gas pipe. That's part of the reason that stocks and bonds have, generally, done well in that same period. Makes sense right, as input costs decrease, profits rise.

This is not to say that you should NOT make commodities part of the portfolio. Is there room for a few gold eagles in your war chest? Sure, there is. Is now the time to dive in with both feet because Robert "My Rich Dad Says So" Kiyosaki says so?

No Fuggin' Way!

We are all looking for a way to secure a financial future. Individually, we suspect that we have no clue. Well, that may be. BUT...

That doesn't mean we should jump at the first, seemingly, successful huckster says "JUMP!"

Chew on this for a second:
1.) What is Kiyosaki successful at besides selling books?
2.) Why wouldn't he do what he is successful at, real estate or coin collecting, rather than sell his advice?
3.) What is his specific plan? When is the best time to buy gold? Are futures contracts better than physical? Can I invest in a gold ETF?
4.) How do I become successful real estate investor?

I don't think Mr. Rich Dad provides adequate answers.

For that reason Mr. BuyMyBooks gets a big "Thanks but no thanks" from me.

If you would like some sage Real Estate Investing advice, stick with John Reed and William Nickerson. Nickerson wrote a very successful book many moons ago that reduces the real estate plan into:
1.) Save enough for down payment.
2.) Buy rental property.
3.) repeat step 1 and 2.

Or ask theHost or Me. We have some real estate horror stories.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
  Repeat After Me
If you are ever lucky enough to get "The Hammer" dealt to you, live or online, and you play them like they are Aces...

You must do one of the following:
1.) Upon winning the hand, stand up, throw your cards face up and say most authoritatively "All Hail the Power of the Hammer!" Demand that your tablemates extol your dominant poker skills
2.) Upon losing the hand, flip face up and utter the following: "Obviously you are a calling station donkey and do not realize that I have the most powerful hand in poker!"
3.) Or do what theHost does: push and spew forth "All you can eat, Baby!"

Just ask theHost. He is the King of Turbo Holdem!' Tell him I sent you.

I haven't been playing lately but theHost says Wally is having a game tonight. Too bad Junior and Mrs. will not let me out of the house. As king, they demand I hold court.

You want to see a really brave guy face some serious drama. Go see Joe Here is a guy living out possibly the worst days of his life for all the blogging world to see. Read from mid January. It is an eye opener for those of us who take our loved ones for granted.

Enough serious nonsense. Let's give out some awards.

It is Thursday after all.

The worldwide winner for demonstrating the global reach of this here blog is the capital of copious, corporal punishment...Singapore. I hear the streets are so clean there, you can eat off them. But beware THE CANE when you bend over to do so.

Our national winner is Eafala Alabama. Weeellll Howdy, Aunt Pearl! What's for supper?!
We got collared greens and string beans,
pork ribs and lobster bibs,
and wash it down with
candied yams and candy-grams.

If you got that last part, please leave comment or email.

Ok, for favorite referral we have
Degenerate gambling and alcoholism

Middle Aged, Midwestern, Monomaniac Christians Mad for Mass

Thank you. I love alliteration. Please send synonyms for Christians beginning with m to:

Mr. Friendly at this comment location.

Thank you, thank you.

See you soon.

The more I write, the more I feel like writing.

Maybe tomorrow we can character check a Keane consultant (alliteration ding!)
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
  Now I am ready to monitor morons...
I thought these stories were the things of legend...

The sheep are scared.

I feel the veil of depression lifting...

Go degenerate Morons go!
No big deal, just some thoughts...

Ok, I am not down with "buy and hold" investing unless you mean, buy on the cheap and hold until somebody gives me my price. Then, mark me down as a holdee. It is the only thing that works for me.

If the dog wakes me up at 4:30 and I let her out, feed her, then take her on a walk am I punishing her or me?

I am really down on the poker blogs these days. I am not sure if it is the tiresome strategy screeds, the "Me=genius, you=donkey" stories, or the overall pathetic lives some of these people live, but, I am just not down. I know the clown needs to cry once in awhile, but some of these people are disturbing (and possibly disturbed).

Great to be back at work. Anyone notice that I did not blog much from home. Too fuggin' busy. Junior is very, very, very demanding. God Bless Mrs. Friendly.

Another "out of work" upside: Meatloaf every week. Despite not dealing with my chili or Lombardo's jones, I am riding a meatloaf crest. All hail the ground beef goddess, Mrs. Friendly.

I hope to God I am done with my brother's estate. Now, please people, everyone hang loose and don't have a grabber for a few years. I need to rest up.

I think my work frame of mind has improved. So far, I wanted to run out in the street with my fire house to "clean things up" only once in two days. Before I left, I was at once every time I stepped outside.

I am running my car into the ground. That is my plan. Even though I have the oldest car in my neighborhood and that fact probably makes me a pariah, I am keeping it until it falls apart. The 2006 Out of Work Experience has shown me that "Keep Cheap" is as much a truism as "Tight is Right."

One last thing: I think Spring is right around the corner. I saw my first wife beater shirt yesterday. People are tards.

That is all. Back to work.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
  Entertainment Book Restaurant Review #2 - Luigi's in Schenectady
This week Mrs. Friendly chose Luigi's. Back in the day, we would go there once a week or so. But then, I fell in love with Lombardo's in Albany...

That was that.

Well, wasn't it lucky for the Mrs. that we had a $15 coupon for Luigi's. It just so happens that she was looking for some cheap eggplant and off we go...

into the abyss...

which is known as Schenectady.

I drove distractedly. I was looking for the Bed and Breakfast on Union Ave that also serves as Swinger's site for hearty partying. Mrs. Friendly pointed it out to me. WTF?!!!

So we get to the restaurant and wouldn't you know it, the place is jammed. I remember that this place was in a rather seedy section of the city but it had a fairly respectable group of students/families/geezers that kept it going. Tonight there was some "football" (read drunk retards) dinner, so getting a table might be a chore.

The hostess was confused when we arrived. What do you expect from your octagenarian restaurant help? I think she was the owner's mom. She might have been old but man, she really sold it. What with the feather boa and all...

After I help grandma with the seats (come on, you are going to watch someone old enough to be your grandmother carry a seat to your table), the three of us sit down. Friendly Jr. is a little tired but game. She gets the chicken fingers (natch). Mrs. Friendly orders up some eggplant parm. And me, well, I get some baked ziti (the Sicilian way, whatever that means).

Our meals come with bread and either salad or soup. Mrs. Friendly and I, both leary of local winter raw vegetables, go for the Beef Vegetable soup. Not bad, not bad at all. While enjoying the soup, some tanked "Son of Italy" talks up Jr. Conversation of the night:

Son of Italy (SoN): Are you the boss?
Junior: I am not the boss. Stop talking to me!
SoN: Are you the boss?

To be honest, I like Junior to be a bit more polite to people. However, this guy was gassed and trying to get Junior's goat, so he had it coming. Eventually, thankfully he drifted away on his own vapor.

The entrees were about a two beer (Heineken) wait. Not too shabby considering there were three waitresses working a room of over 60 (half of whom were pickled). Short story, Eggplant was as good as Mrs. Friendly remembered. The ziti was better than I remembered. Junior loved the french fries that came with her chicken.

Now here is the beauty part. We pass on dessert but show the entertainment card. The waitress tells me to put it away. Check comes back with the $15 discount.

Can anyone say 25% tip?

Overall, Luigi's is a good, cheap, night of Italianzo. It runs second to Lombardo's but, then again, everything does. This is an excellent second choice. It isn't some nouveau Italian, so leave that shat at the door. It is what most of us remember as a family Italian restaurant. Good, cheap food and dependable service. I give it 3 and half entertainment books up. I would have been happy even if they punched my entertainment card.

I skipped my last pick. Will report back when I get the story straight.
Monday, March 06, 2006
  Back in the saddle again.
Since my contract vacation, I have been thinking about why I am on the bench in the first place. I came up with the following:

Reasons why my contract is not renewed yet:

1.) One too many "coffee and doughnuts" breakfasts at work. You know, they really cut into the work day.
2.) A hundred thousand a day not spent on me is another hundred thousand you have to waste on another CITRIX server.
3.) My rapier like wit.
4.) My sparkling personality.
5.) Well, when you issue the bid a week before the end of my contract, ask for a return in two days, get the bids back in time, then take 3 weeks to get the interviews done, this works out just about right.
6.) As the purchaser, you are banking that your pack of loser contractors will not find other work. Ironically, I was interviewed the day after I interviewed at another shop.
7.) 5 less bodies makes the office quieter.
8.) You, as the purchaser, are trying to piss off the project manager, who actually gets things done. So you remove some of his "ahem" ASSets.
9.) You forgot.
10.) The ever popular "push new expenditures into the next budget year" syndrome.

With that said, I got the call today and I restart tomorrow. Can't wait.
Hopefully, I will be in a better mood for work related moronica.
Poker is ok right now. Kicking arse on the cash games. But I am ready to resume the sleeping position at the office. If you work in Albany NY, I'll see you at the Pearl St. Dunkin' tomorrow at 8:30 sharp.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
  Deep Dark Depression
Excessive misery...

It's not that I am depressed to be out of work...

I will go back...


Enough of that, ON TO THE MORONICA!!!

I am declaring Thursday nights to be Mr. Friendly award night. Awards will be created and given by me. Awards consist of general criticism and egregious disdain.

First off we have the award for the most recently referring blogs. They are:
Some French shat
Imagine that. An American blog written in French! How fugging cute! I think there is some high school sophmore girl getting a few extra brownie points at St. Anselm's High School House of Pain. Either that or there is some FrenchMos out there demonstrating their competence de francaise (yeah, that's right Mr. Friendly is all about demonstrating his strengths too!). Take it from me, if you run into somebody who is practicing (or sending secret messages) French, (s)he is a GOOF and should be avoided with extreme prejudice with the occassional exception for ridicule. But please feel free to click the link and read on.

Batting second for referrals is the Grandma's Blog.

Imagine you are surfing the net. During your search for porn and stock information, you come across the Knitting Zone. How long do you think it would take you to hit "Next Blog?" Is there a measure of time less than a nanosecond? Don't know.

Second award goes to the place on Earth that is furthest from Colonie, NY that accessed this here ol' blog. Hello Milwaukee! Have a Schlitz in the Can on me!

Third award is a bit dubious. I am almost considering not awarding it. I call it "Did this fugger rip me off? Award" Take a look at the following:
In a public restroom (men only)...
· Speaking (exceptions include "excuse me," "sorry" and "thank you") - $50
· Speaking while in a stall with the door closed - $100
· Purposefully ignoring urinal etiquette* when appropriate choices can be made - $100
· Reaching the sinks at the same time as another in an uncrowded restroom - $50
· Eye contact of any sort - $100
· Not making at least a token effort to pretend to wash your hands if another person is in there - $100

*"Urinal etiqutte" simply means that you should always have a one-urinal gap at minimum between yourself and another who is/may be using the facilities.


That is because I wrote about it a couple of months ago! See January 20th, 2005.

OK. That's about it. I am calm now.

One last thing. Those of you who are interested and might know someone who wants to get a "ahem" high paying IT consultant job, drop me a line in the comments. Despite my current "vacation," I have a pile of proposals in the inbox and I am always looking for some IT "ONTAPENURES" (say it out loud).

Peace out.

Oh yeah, second place for the furthest contest was Alcove, NY. A big hey to Alcove! You know, without farming, we would all be eating dirt.

I am really depressed because I am really bored.

Peace out part deux. (yeah FrenchMos, I am talking to you!)
Voted Best Blog 2006 by the city of Cohoes, NY. Mr. Friendly humbly accepts this honor as he attempts to stamp out retardation in our lifetime.

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Location: Upstate NY
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