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Date: Thu, 26 Feb 2009 20:09:20 -0500 (EST)
From: Clara.
To: poker-night

Choose life. Choose a wholesome hobby. Choose eight hours of sleep a
night. Choose regular showers and flossing every day. Choose watching
the sunrise from the right side of the day. Choose going to the gym every
morning. Choose a balanced diet composed of regular nutritious meals.
Choose clothes that need dry cleaning. Choose a healthy normal social
life. Choose being on time. Choose blind dates that consist of dinner, a
movie, and going home alone in a cab. Choose paying someone to fix your
computer. Choose thirteen dollars for a movie in a theater with stadium
seating. Choose action movies to watch without noticing the violations of
physics. Choose spending Thursday nights home alone. Choose thinking of
quarters as units for laundry not small and big blind. Choose normality.
Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that?

I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. And the reasons?
There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got Poker Night?

People think its all about misery and desperation and death and all that
shite, which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of
it. Otherwise we wouldn’t do it. After all, were not fucking stupid. At
least, were not that fucking stupid. Take the best game of Windows
Solitaire you ever played, multiply it by a thousand and you’re still
nowhere near it.

When you’re at Poker Night you have only one worry: the straight on the
river. When you’re out you are suddenly obliged to worry about all sorts
of other shite. Got no money: can’t get pished. Got money: drinking too
much. Can’t get a bird: no chance of a ride. Got a bird: too much hassle.
You have to worry about bills, about food, about some football team that
never fucking wins, about human relationships and all the things that
really don’t matter when you’ve got a sincere and truthful poker habit.

Choose Poker Night.
Choose XX Xxxxxxxxx Xx. #X Somerville MA 02144.
Choose first hand at 9.

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