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pokernight is full of lies

To: poker-night
From: electroblake
Subject: pokernight is full of lies
Date: Thu, 1 Mar 2007 20:57:16 -0500

A long time ago in a place far far away there once lived a little
frog whose name was not Fredrickson but for the purpose of this story
we will refer to him as Fredrickson even though that isn’t really his
name. Fredrickson did not really live in a castle in the sky, but
we’re going to say that he did. A really fabulous castle with lots
of parapits and a mote that was filled with champaign and had
champaign sharks with skins studded with diamons. That’s right,
diamons. Diamons are like diamonds, except even sparklier and people
will pay a lot more money for them. Because they are sparkley.

Fredrickson liked to spend his days lounging around his sky castle
and watching action adventure movies while attended by his staff of
dancing girls. He would have his dancing girls mix him drinks of the
finest gin or sometimes he would drink the single malt scotches.
Sometimes he would drink really nice red wines and sometimes he would
drink really cheap beer. The dancing girls would bring him drinks
and he would laugh and laugh and sometimes he would smoke cigarettes
or smoke the marijuanna or sometimes he would eat a bunch of acid and
run around his castle in the sky raving about monkeys and midgets and
the oneness of space-time or the twoness of timescapes. Yes
Fredrickson lived a nice life. Well, for pretend he did.
Fredrickson didn’t really live this life at all, but it makes for
better storytelling if everything seems really exciting, doesn’t it?

One day while high as a kite on some really nice acid Fredrickson
realized the true nature of the human sprit. This was not as useful
as it could have been for Fredrickson, as Fredrickson was a frog,
dear reader, and not a human at all. To realize the true nature of
the frog sprit would have been better, probably, because that would
have made him some kind of super zen frog able to bend spoons with
his mind, but still to realize the true nature of the human spirt was
pretty good too, because humans have things like money and nice lacy
lingere and nucluear warheads. No other animal on the planet earth
has any of those things. Well, ok, so there are some cats out there
who have been willed loads of cash by their dead old lady owners, but
I’m not sure the courts ever decided that the cats really control the
money or not and even if the courts did decide that the cats really
control the money it’s still up to debate if a cat can really
understand the concept of money in the first place and even if they
did how would they ever communicate what they wanted to spend their
money on anyway?

So anyway, having realized the true nature of the human spirt
Fredrickson, once he sobered up a bit, started experimenting on his
fleet of dancing girl maid servents and discovered that he could control
their every action using only his mind.

Fredrickson used his powers to make his dancing girls reinact the
scenes from his favourite action adventure moives, which resulted in
a lot of bruises and broken bones and eventually a comittee on
dometic abuses intervened and took Fredrickson’s dancing girls away
from him and sent them all to foster castles. Miserable and alone,
Fredrickson plunged into a terrible depression and after two weeks he
had drank all the gin and all the beer and all the wine and all the
single malt scotch and he ate all the acid and smoked all the
cigarettes and attempted to freebase the marijuanna but I’m not sure
that works so we’ll say that all he ened up doing was giving himself
a pretty bad burn on his little froggy hand and he was so angry that
he threw the whole bag of pot into the mote and it was gobbled up by
one of the diamon studded champaign sharks, but really it wasn’t
champaign it was really just slushy dirty snow ice and it wasn’t
really a diamon studded shark even but really just a scroungy mutt
dog and it really was a bag of pot, but there wasn’t really that much
of it and they dog didn’t die or anything, I’m pretty sure. Of
course the dog did go on to ascend to a higher plain of existence
where it spend hours and hours ordering cheep crap off of the QVC
home shopping network.

This story is all made up. But if there is one thing that isn’t all
made up, it’s string theory. Or so my string theorist friends would
have me believe. Then again, physicists, like all scientists, will
tell you anything to get your money, or to get you in bed. They are
not at all like poker night. Poker night does not want to get you in
bed. Not at all.

Poker night is tonight.
at dangerhouse.
you see.
gentle reader.
“first hand at nine.”
(totally not a lie)

dangerhouse is XX xxxxxxxxx xx. # X in somerville, ma.

It is also made of pure dimon.
(not a lie)

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