Hit Me, Or Better Yet, Hit Yourself

The responses to the post I wrote about the future of the site we're varied. It seems most people want me to continue, and others are supportive if I want to lay it to rest at the end of the year. Regardless of the viewpoint, I'd like to thank everyone who commented. As for what the future of the site is, I haven't decided, and what I'm going to do is leave that open and see how I feel when the end of the year is closer upon us.

"Casino Royale" is a really good flick, for anyone who hasn't seen it. It's like they're trying to start the Bond franchise over again for the new millenium with this one, and it's really cool. Check it out.

And "Prison Break" is really picking up steam for the end of the season. I absolutely have loved this entire series and is easily the best thing on TV, and my personal favorite show. I haven't really written about it because there would just be too much, but maybe I'll throw something up after the end of this season when my blood pressure slows down to a tolerable "racing" reading.


Friday night was spent at the casino your favorite columnist and mine, Mizzle. D-Man and Nitro we're along for the ride as well, and a fun time was had by all. It had been a while since I had been there, since the early part of last year easily. It was a good time, although I'd make sure I don't more than a couple times a year.

I also had a rather entertaining brush with a BlackJack dealer. She dealt me cards, and it went something like this:
Dealer: You have 14.
B.a.D: Hit me.
Dealer: You want to hit?
B.a.D: Yes.
Dealer: Are you sure?
B.a.D: That's my final answer, yes.
Dealer: You should not hit.
B.a.D: Can I have a card, please?
Dealer: Hitting on 14 is a bad idea when the dealer is showing 8.
B.a.D: Isn't that for me to decide? I believe that's why they call it "gambling".
Dealer: All right, it's your decision...
B.a.D: Thank you. Cheese n' rice.
Dealer: ... but it's a bad idea.

You know what, card skank? That's my decision. The idea isn't that you decide when I hit and whatever the cards say is who wins. I DECIDE WHETHER I GET A CARD OR NOT, not you. And if I've decided to get one, that's my F$%&ING DECISION, understand? I'm giving you a direction, not seeking your consent.

In case you're not famliar with this "gambling" concept, that's kind of the idea. I'm the one withth the money, you're the one who's trying to take it. You're not dealing cards because you've got such a great mind for odds, you're dealing cards because...

...

... well, because you've got two functional opposing hands, I suppose. I'm not exactly sure what it takes to become a BlackJack dealer, I'm pretty sure it's about as hard as becoming a cab driver. Wait no, cab drivers need a drivers license. So I imagine it's about as hard as...

...

... DAMMIT, I don't know. A cashier? No that's stupid, cashiers have to lift things and swipe cards and junk. A McDonalds clerk? No, they have to cook (sort of). A prison guard? No, they have to kick ass occasionally.

A CAVEWOMAN. There.

AND I won the freakin' hand, on top of all that. You can imagine the look she shot me when I pulled a 6.



Anyways, it was still a good time. And rather entertaining when Mizzle told me he saw the same dealer in the mall while shopping with his girl on Saturday. I told her he should have stalked her around and criticized her clothing choices.


Until then...

God Bless,
B.a.D