Storm

                 Live life fearlessly.

I was playing at a poker tournament at a seedy hotel in Las Vegas a few months ago, when a very chubby and very sloshed british man turned to me as said, “You’re fearless, aren’t you?” I looked him in the eyes, nodded. Though, all the while I was thinking, “you are the fearless one, ol’ chum, wearing that awful pink and orange fishermen hat.”

I enjoy going to $30-50 poker tournaments for the people-watching. There is something quite entertaining about foreign tourists playing poker and drinking cheap booze. The british man, who looked like a baby, except for the whole downing two screw drivers while wearing an ill-fitting suit (with that stupid stupid fisherman hat) thing, eventually succumbed to one of my bluffs. I later saw him almost passed out on a freeroll table. I dodged his gaze and walked out.

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