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Pokernight is stealing your soul

To: poker-night
From: electroblake
Subject: Pokernight is stealing your soul
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 2006 20:28:04 -0500

Seriously, this winter has been so damn hectic.

I feel like I haven’t had a relaxing evening since before party month.

I’m actually cooking my dinner and writing this email at the same time.

It’s true.

I eat food.

cooked food.

So of course there was party month, and that was good. A party every
weekend, why not? Sounds like a good idea every year. In truth,
it’s a blast. I highly recommend you all go out and claim your own

Then there was Geeta’s birthday dinner party.

also a blast. tons of fun.

Then dangergiving. Dangergiving was a disaster. I don’t know if you
all heard, but the house burned down all the way down to the ground
and took most of xxxxxxxxx xx. with it. The fire dept. had the day
off, of course, so we had to put the fire out ourselves using nothing
but buckets and buckets of synthetic saltwater. Luckily, time
traveling robot aliens landed just in time to help us put it all back
together again in time for pokernight. I’m telling you, I don’t know
how I would get by without time traveling robot aliens. Somehow they
always know just when you need them most.

After dangergiving the time traveling robot aliens replaced me and I
think probably most of you as well with robot clones who have been
doing an excellent job fooling the small segment of the population
left to tend to the planet in our absence. But now, of course, after
many intergalactic adventures and probably the most unforgettable
alien robot sex many of us have ever had, we’ve been returned, or at
least I have, and we find that our lives are in utter chaos.

My fish refuses to eat.

Joe the lionfish.

What does it mean?

He used to eat a lot. A surprising amount. Now, nothing. He turns
his nose up at food. I’ve tried four different kinds of fish.
Lovingly selected and cut up into little cubes. Speared on the end
of a clear plastic rod and made to dance about as if they were still
alive. He used to totally go for that shit. Well, that’s not
exactly true. He’s been picky in the past as well. The
dangerfreezer is full of various frozen cubes of fish flesh which Joe
has refused. The dumb part is that I cannot, for the life of me,
remember what kind of fish it was that he liked so much last time!
Isn’t that dumb? It was like the one time I didn’t write the name of
the fish on the little baggy.

So anyway, my salmon is probably overdone by now. I should consume
it. And you people, you should all come to pokernight.

“first hand at nine”

dangerhouse is XX xxxxxxxxx xx, somerville.

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