I often find myself thinking about simple things, and how these things are distorted when envisioned en mass, or when more people are involved. For instance, the idea of personal property and trespassing is pretty straight-forward. I have my house; and if you decide to come into my house, and dig around in my pantry, drink my milk, take my keys, use my car and the gas inside of it without my knowledge or approval, the world will be on my side. Everyone that I tell this story will say, "Wow that's pretty fucked up, that person should not be allowed on your property, or at least should be held responsible for paying you back for the money you spent on all that stuff. You must have worked all week for the money to pay for those things."
It’s been a long morning, and I’m tired from playing with my youngest daughter all day. The house is a mess, and I’m not really sure how all of the pots from the kitchen ended up in the living room. But here we are. I haven’t thought about poker all day, in fact I haven’t thought about much of anything. The decision between a wooden spoon and a plastic spatula as my drumstick of choice is the toughest one I’ve made all day. I know, not exactly the fantasy life of a high stakes poker player you had in mind.