Played poker poorly last night. I was too deep into my G&T. But I still knew better.

I punched the clock at 5pm today. I was on Lake Michigan before 6pm. We took the Seadoos from Port Sheldon to Grand Haven. Hardly any chop or wind and the temperature was perfect (air and water). I don't envy how The Poors live, because I know they aren't out on the Big Lake on a Tuesday just because the atmospheric conditions demand it. Daniel is still right.

I need one of my friends to buy a house on the Big Lake so I can play Higgins. I might have to try on St. Bart's instead.

Walrus gifted me a leftover 2 Sisters salsa at the end of the auction weekend. It was not foul, but it was unremarkable in every way. Fuck, I hope Jalen keeps up his end. Wolf home league draft this Saturday. Draft. So uncivilized.

I have the understanding that the previously-mentioned salsa can be had at Cosco, so not really a sourcing issue.

Comparison born from a conversation this evening: The rifled 16-inch guns on the four WWII Iowa class battleships (New Jersey, Missouri, and Wisconsin were the other three) had a range of about 24 miles. The shells used against other ships were 2,700 pound armor piercing. These four battleships were the last ever made for the US Navy. Recently, the US Naval anti-ship missile has been the Harpoon with a 488 lb warhead and range of around 80 miles. A very good trade-off of explosive size for range and accuracy. Now US Navy will have the LRASM to throw 1000 lbs of high explosive at other boats within 350 miles. Accuracy within ten feet. The first versions are going on Hornets and Lancers, but their cousins will be fitted to vertical launch systems in the ships. China better keep turning out those destroyers.

An adult friend of mine lost his hearing recently. It turned out the wax and trace bits of other material had compacted in his ears. After a multi-day "softening/dissolving" drop treatment, he moved to a planned direct spray irrigation/flush with a mixture of alcohol, vinegar, and peroxide. The biggest chunk to fall out was roughly the size of a nickel. What the hell? This reminded me of a kid in elementary school named Scott. The gunk in his ears was only surpassed by the full double-plug of green/yellow buggers in Joe's nostrils. One day it was so bad that, as a 3rd-grade class, we appealed to the teacher to make him blow his nose. The teacher did us one better and held the tissues while she kept telling Joe to blow for successive rounds of new tissue until those cannons were bare. Prior to that assist, I doubt Joe had every breathed so well in his life. Anyway, Scott's ears weren't flush with the surface, completely full like Joe's nose, but the dark, dirty wax made scale sized stalactites and stalagmites. It was distressing enough that a group of us finally surrounded him and asked him why he didn't clean his ears. He claimed his mother did the cleaning. We made it clear that she was doing a shit job. I think she was one of those idiots that bought into the preemptive litigation packaging insisting that Q-tips were not to be placed in the ear canal. Where the fuck else would you put them? Did any teachers get involved, you ask? Well, not during school hours proper, but since his mother was the music teacher and Scott had magically cleaned ears the next day, I assume there was some kind of teaching done at his house overnight. Also, I was among the horrified witnesses of a retarded kid named Glenn pissing at the urinal with his pants around his ankles and a five inch piece of turd dangling from his butthole. It was a footrace to get the principal informed before that sucker broke loose. I still remember the look on that poor, dignified man's face and his gentle groan, "Awww, Glennnnn!"

It has been beautiful outdoor weather all week, but the heavy rain arrived in mid-afternoon. That took the post-work recreation out of the lake and into the house. I dominated at Bananagrams and Boggle. Then the indoor range in the basement garage was opened up for some archery. I put my second shot into the 2x4 under the shelf upon which the target block sits. I haven't shot since the fall, but after a couple rounds, my back stretched out, my eye calmed down, and I located my matchstick point-of-aim. I don't have any dynamite arrow experience (that's for Hansen), but I won't starve as long a there are rabbits, squirrels, and ducks around. I would have to pick up my stalking skills and find some broadheads if deer is to be on the menu.

A game I like to play when I am stuck in a public place at someone else's discretion is the "I never" game usually reserved for college freshmen drinking. Obviously, the drinking aspect is usually missing, as is the asking a group of strangers to raise hands. It is most fun for me to adjust the qualifying condition for minimal positive returns. Location matters; pedestrian mall, farmer market, public park, airplane, museum, airplane museum all have a different expected mix of humanity. One of my favorites is to look through the farmer market crowd and try to pick out anyone who had ever cleaned a kill for later consumption. There are better odds among the selling farmers, but the experimental vegan crowd usually makes for hard targets. Is there a blue-hair who grew up de-scaling or filleting fish caught for the family fish fry? Is that lady with crow's feet and a denim jacket the daughter of a father with no sons who took her out to kill her first deer at fourteen? That blonde in yoga pants with the golden retriever never marinaded duck she shot, brought back to the shore by her well-trained dog. If that blonde is wearing a jacket in Mossy Oak Shadow Grass Blades and walking a brown lab, the odds are going up.

There are some observable details that signal an individual has made, at least, a cursory examination of Life's finite quality and has decided to act accordingly. Furthermore, the most illuminating of these sign posts will reveal whether the individual has set upon a life of reflective integrity or spiraling despair. One such revelatory details must surely be the unit capacity of carbonated beverages purchased. For example, as one reaches for a bottle of Tonic Water, there is only one condition in which that bottle must be prior to the conjugal release of its contents to the partially filled glass of Ice and Gin. To be clear, that condition is factory sealed, or more colloquially, un-opened. Now, some may be attempting the reconciliation of liter bottles of Tonic Water open for an individual drink. It would be hoped that three or four genuine friends in communion on the deck or the beach would, by equal measure, distribute said Tonic to their respective libations, because if this is not the case, most certainly the selection of the liter bottle was made in haste or habit, without even a Fool's thought about the course this unmeasured decision has set for the Soul. As is the certainty that a human with a re-capped liter of Tonic Water will add the residual to a future glass of Potential, resulting in a diminished shadow of an experience that need not have seen the Spirit thus gutted, so is the certainty that same Unenlightened will reflexively excuse such a ruinous result as some type of misguided attempt of efficiency.

But do not advance to the conclusion that we have born witness to the aforementioned depths of anguish, as there might still be hope that the application of Knowledge to such a situation could blunt, or possibly cure, the wayward trajectory sufficiently for a chance at proper Redemption. No, if the reader needs exposure to such an incurable example as to generate that gasp of terror deep within the bosom, the focus should be on the shopping cart containing multiple 2 liters of Diet Coke, or possibly, store-branded generic flavors. These phantoms are of the type whose existence is distilled into a slow march in blinders to a personal gallows. Does any hope remain for the idled couch-ridden and their 2 liters of Mountain Dew Code Red? There does exist a way-point when the human condition has passed that event horizon of large-volume degradation, with the lowest possible odds of Salvation. This curse is known as the 3 liter bottle. Beware these plunderers of hope and dignity.

The moral of the story: If engagement with Tonic Water from Schweppes or Seagrams is necessary, 10 oz containers should be considered the upper limit. To truly live, find the Boylan or Fever-Tree in 200 ml/6.8 oz.

Lifetip: If it has a re-sealable, screw-on cap, it is a trap. Stick to classic bottle caps that deform upon opening or cans that punch out a tab.

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A friend, my dad, and I explored another segment of the Grand River utilizing Juneteenth. The Grand River is an underutilized resource. The new holiday in June should not be an underutilized resource. Luckily, I have an enlightened employer. We dropped in around 8 am and were out before noon. We saw two humans on our journey. We encountered a deer attempting to cross the river. The birds serenaded us. We floated slowly past herons, ducks, and swans during our trip. The next step looks like a drop in that takes us out to Grand Haven. Of course, we have also been taking laps around the lake in the mornings and evenings when the water is still and glassy.

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My Christmas present (chronograph) from my brother-in-law finally arrived after a period of back-order status. I can finally determine which specific .300 blk ammunition is leaving my 8" barrel at subsonic speeds. I would think that this should not be a hill I need to climb, but hell if the internet isn't a ball of contradiction and information black holes. I am spending some time switching out the buffer kit on the .300 blk to a lighter weight, in hopes that it will finally cycle a reload.

If you are looking for a can from Rugged, I think they are currently running a few specials where they will pay for your $200 tax stamp.

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I have been given access to a jar of Mateo's medium salsa out of Texas. I am not sure what their distribution footprint is right now (my jar came from Denver). I am not a salsa expert, but I am picky about which salsa I choose to eat. For years, my everyday driver has been Pace medium picante. I haven't purely enjoyed another salsa since the in-house salsa at the Peruvian place (Farolito, if I remember correctly) in Coconut Grove. If you see a jar of Mateo's and haven't tried it, I suggest that you do. I am running it 50/50 mixed with Pace as I type this.

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Why aren't more people panicking about the next presidential election? We have already established that both Trump and Biden are busted, but it is like both sides are playing a game of chicken. We are on track for an entire term of senility, no matter which is selected. And neither will keep the old Vice, right? Maybe that will be our salvation? Doubtful. How can so much time go by without someone interesting and viable positioning themselves for a shot at the nuclear football?

Living near the midpoint between two segments of a fairly large university, I decided to see if there was anything interesting on a speaker series or hosted debate for this fall. I was hoping for something either science-discovery based or current political hot-potatoes. I found something called the People's Dinner. It wasn't completely clear in the description, but it sounded like a chance to politely discuss current topics with strangers. I am under the impression that it is a thing that happens around the country on an irregular schedule. They showed a short quasi-documentary film that was edited for immediate table discussion. At this event there were ten tables in a banquet room with eight to ten place settings. They fed us what was functionally a cold chicken Caesar with rolls, a choice of three soups, and coffee. It was free, so I had nothing to complain about. Fuck, did I ever want a Coca-cola, though. Always bring a backup drink! The film was about a guided discussion among people in the statistically most politically mixed area of the Midwest. The structure of the production was suspect as it was touted as a "real" conversation, edited for short duration. It also appeared to be edited for maximum "look how people can disagree but still be compassionate to the other viewpoints!" and there was an indication that it was part of a series of shorts, like it would be used for a semester of on-going classroom discussion.

It wasn't a full event, so my table included me, the female volunteer table moderator, a hindu outreach speaker, a guy twenty years older than me, and a woman ten to fifteen years younger than me being paid by her social work job to be there. I could also say that my table included me and four "polite, but superior" Democratic voters. The event was about open dialog across political and social divides. I would guess that there were no Archie Bunker types in attendance, and I believe that nearly everybody in attendance was on the softer, kinder, "Progressive" end of the spectrum. I ended up with the feeling that there was a current of mutual self-congratulatory satisfaction with how great they are to be soooo open-minded. But the older man gave me an opportunity to test the table a bit.

The moderator had prompting questions for the individuals at the table to answer in turn. Older guy talked about how he is frustrated by being improperly pigeon-holed as a staunch conservative because of his job function and the density of "right-wingers" among his co-workers. He went on to begin a story with, "A co-worker of mine owns 32 guns!" I interrupted him and asked if that was too many or not enough. He did not answer. I asked if he felt that guy was a danger to him or any others. That was answered with a "no". I said that while most people could probably only utilize a maximum of two at any given time, what was the older guy's issue with his co-worker having 30 extra in the safe or cabinet. He didn't have an answer for me there, either. Then I asked why older guy thought coworker had the guns. as maybe he was a collector. Older guy said that coworker said he was storing them in case he would need to fight the government in the future. If things got "bad". But he isn't fighting the government "militia-style" right now. He is just sitting on 32 guns. I asked the older guy why that number was important to his story. No answer. Hindu guy threw a rope suggesting maybe there was a fetishization happening, Moderator capped the issue with a comment about the Jan 6 mess. These open minded people were prejudging this coworker based on a contextless number of claimed firearm ownership. The coworker only revealed this to older guy because he knew it got the older guy's goat. A guy who the older guy believed was not hurting anyone, nor planning to hurt anyone, nor commit any violent crimes. So, open-mindeds, how come the tissy-fit over the number 32?

Just for fun, let's see how many guns a person, especially a hunter, could own that each served a specific purpose:

1. Rifle, deer/pronghorn, bolt, lever, or pump-action in any of the following calibers: .270, 30-06, .243, .308, .30-30
2. Rifle, deer, state restricted zones, bolt, semi, or lever action: .45 Colt, .357 Mag, .450 Bushmaster, .350 Legend, .45-70 Govt, .44 Mag
3. Rifle, elk/moose, bolt-action, in any of the following calibers: 7mm Mag, .300 Win Mag, .308
4. Rifle, big game Africa, bolt-action, in any of the following calibers: .375 H&H, .416 Rigby, .458 Lott
5. Rifle, small game/varmint, bolt or semi-auto in any of the following: .22 lr, .22 Mag, .17 HMR, .17 WSM, .223 Rem
6. Rifle, feral pig, semi-auto in any of the following: .308, 6.5 Creedmoor, .300 blk, 6.5 Grendel, 5.56 NATO, .450 Bushmaster, .350 Legend. 6.8 SPC
7. Shotgun 20-24 inch rifled barrel, deer/bear, pump, bolt, or semi-auto: 12 gauge slug
8. Shotgun 28 inch barrel, goose/turkey, pump or semi-auto: 3-inch 12 gauge
9. Shotgun 26 inch barrel, pheasant/duck, pump or semi-auto: 12 gauge, 16 gauge, 20 gauge
10. Shotgun 26 inch barrel, quail/grouse/small game, pump or semi-auto: 16 gauge, 20 gauge, .410
11. Shotgun 30-32 inch barrel, trap/clays/skeet, semi-auto or break: 12 gauge, 16 gauge, 20 gauge, 28 gauge
12. Pistol, deer, revolver: .44 Mag, .460 S&W Mag, .500 S&W Mag
13. Pistol, small game/trapping/snakes, revolver or semi-auto: .22 lr, .22 Mag, .410
14. Pistol, beer defense/trail backup, semi-auto: 10mm, .357 Sig, .45 ACP

What if you own something on that list, but decide you want a different caliber for comfort or performance issues? Now if you compete in 3-Gun, you'll need a specialized rifle/shotgun/pistol group. You need a differently specialized rifle/shotgun/pistol for Cowboy Action Shooting. Long distance target/silhouette will require a special rifle or two. Conceal carry can be addressed with a single gun, but often people carry differently as seasonal clothing allows. And what category do we put that 16" barrel Beretta M4 or double-barrel coach gun? Watermelon blaster or home defense? Both. What about inherited guns? For those, "why would you need more than one gun" types, was I supposed to sell the rifle and shotgun my grandpa left me? Like any tool, is there something to be said for having a backup? Double the list. After the shortages of Covid, there is something to be said for having a spread of guns that shoot different ammunition as a hedge against a particular round not being readily purchasable.

Anyway, I was asked to recount some poker. Last six-week season I was bubble-boy two weeks running as well as for an Omaha game. Another week I was first out. But come jackpot week, I took it down, including the bounty. It was magnifique. This week was a low turn out. Single table only. I don't remember the last time that happened. I entered the game deciding that I would play reckless and go home early if that was required. My opposition obliged me. My second A-Q embraced an Ace on the flop to be clipped by a seven that recruited the rest of the board into a nice little straight, which was at least more interesting than my first A-Q being top-top but getting fucked by the Q-10 that also paired its ten. My Big Slick made top two pair to get kneecapped by a pair of pocket threes that found a third friend on the flop. I tried 10-9 three times for no joy. I had the fun of watching my Ace and its companion pair up only for a fifth street J to bend me over Broadway style. Not a good week for me at the Poker table.

I replaced my China Freight model with a proper new Dremel. First task was wire brushing the little bits of orange that were showing in the wheel wells and along the bottom of a door. It is satisfying to expose the good metal under that light layer of rusty dust. A little bit like brushing my car's teeth. The thought of putting that wire brush to my own teeth just made me flinch.

I've been playing Big Boggle lately. I was never any good at it growing up, so I shunned it. But something called to me to give it a new chance. I am rocking that Boggle, even better than Bananagrams.

I also bought a video game for the first time in two decades. My new lappy is much power. Bestest video card with 12 MB RAM. Shake in the presence of its svelte profile and hurricane-like cooling fans!

Red Dead Redemption 2. It is four years old. But when it came out, I knew one day I would own it and play it. It does not disappoint. The audio has retrained me to listen more closely to my environment. In-game you can hear the wolves or grizzly coming before they are visible. Best get that shottie out before they tear you off your horse and chew your neck. The detail and complexity of this game has captured a good portion of my attention the past few weeks. There are tons of challenges that take different forms in distinct categories. Under Weapons Expert, I am now tasked with killing three adversaries with throwing knives in under ten seconds. That dog don't hunt. And it doesn't count if I lace the knives with poison. I attempted the shoot five birds from a moving train challenge, but that devolved quickly into a train robbery where I dynamited two baggage cars (to open safes) and fought off two waves of law enforcement and two waves of bounty hunters. The third wave of law enforcement put me down.

My most recent whiskey of the month turned out to be a 15 yr Highlands Scotch. Deanston.

I will add more later. I hope this little bit will tide you over for now.

We explored another section of the river a couple weekends ago. The first trip we put in downtown and rode to the access ramp about a mile from the house. This time, we put in at the ramp near the house and went down river from there. We started early to avoid the heat and motorized recreational traffic. One of the highlights of the trip were four bald eagles that swooped into a tree as we were passing by. One of the eagles crossed the river at height of about fifteen feet to pass in front of me a boat-length away. It was close enough for me to hear the whoosh of the air displaced each time the eagle flapped its wings. Pretty cool. Here is that eagle after crossing in front of me:

The river was glassy smooth and slow moving.

The state/county has installed some interesting infrastructure to promote kayaking the river. Aside from the regular boat trailer access, they have built some kayak loading ramps that resemble raised kayak-wide conveyor belts. Rollers built into aluminum frames allow for a controlled placement and embarking of the kayak from an adjoining deck. When the paddler is ready, there are bars on each side to grab and propel the kayak forward down a gentle slope on rollers into the water. The same roller system allows for a kayak on the river to be maneuvered into the chute from the opposite end and pulled up to disembark. A nice use of the tax dollars.

Last week, instead of an early morning on the river, we spent an early morning riding from the minor league ballpark to the next town to the north. Like many bike paths, this one is built on an old railroad bed. It runs through wooded area is quite tranquil. It was a nice 15 mile round trip. Our turn-around was at the dam in town:

My whiskey of the (every-other) month arrived at the beginning of July. Japanese whisky with Japanese chocolate-centered cookies:

Whiskey made from rice! Makes for a different flavor profile. I didn't take this one to poker. I am keeping it for deck-drinking.

Poker last week was initially a bomb, as I was first out of the Hold 'Em tourney which netted me exactly one point towards the Jackpot week (next week). After killing time enjoying an Ashton Churchill and Euchre with other eliminated players, I was able to mount a successful campaign on the Omaha table. No points for Omaha, but the cash winnings still spend. This week, there was no Omaha because our host had to tend to his new campground and the customers that were staying there. That meant I had to do my damage in the main game. I took them down to Chinatown, knocking out the 4th, 3rd, and 2nd place finishers, earning me 18 points for the win and four bonus points for the knockout (I get credit for my own chip along with the three chips I took from the final table). That made up for a couple of my other horrible finishes this season. I won't be completely hamstrung with a low chip stack next week.

I picked up a four-pack of Bell's Oberon Tropical for poker this week. It is deck-drinking worthy. I wouldn't put away more than a couple in any one sitting, though.

It was jackpot week tonight. For the first time, I managed to remember that I am carrying a telephone that has NSA satellite camera technology. So here is the hand that punched me out. I was all-in on the flop (grouped to the right):

That was the final whack. I lost a big chunk a few hands prior. I was big blind with 5s-8s, and made it to the flop with the button and small blind limping. The flop was 4s-6s-8d. Since the other two were limpers, I wasn't particularly concerned about over-pairs. So I bet twice the blind, only to have the button shove. I figured with straight and flush draws while holding top pair, it was worth looking up the button. The button had Ks-9s. He was covering my flush option, but I was still feeling hopeful with my made pair. Fourth street Qs sunk me. Fifth was 7d for my consolation straight. Final kick in the balls was the shitty plastic grocery store sack that I was carrying my new bottle of Bacardi unloading via a spontaneous blow-out of the bottom, resulting in an epic slow-mo smash on the concrete floor of the poker venue. Fucking lovely.

List of well-liked characters that have recently been re-written as weak and incompetent to be replaced by, shown-up, or bait-and-switched in their own stories: Loki, Dr. Strange, Thor, Hawkeye, Hulk, Moon Knight, Luke Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi, Han Solo, Poe Dameran, Indiana Jones, James Bond, and now even the Predator is going to be subjected to this treatment. Top Gun: Maverick might be the last good movie out of Hollywood. By the way, Jennifer Connelly is Milf-tastic.

When in doubt, add a little pink lemonade to your gin. But only in the summer. And not too often. And not on a delicate herbal that belongs in a martini. I picked up a bottle of Lillet. I forgot to grab the lemons, but that is an easy fix.  Between now and the 4th, martini time will be re-designated as Vesper time. Can I support those marvelous Ukrainians and still use Russian vodka? Damn you, Putin! We do have alternatives from Sweden, France, California, and Minnesota in the cabinet. But wait! Fuck ya! Way to go, Latvia! It is much harder to get cheap 6.5 Grendel from alternate sources. I am looking at you, PPU. Ramp up those American shipments!

Storms are rolling through tonight. It is going to be hot the rest of the week. One solid week of high temps equals warm lake water. Time to start the regular laps.

I ordered my third kayak of the summer today. First one arrived damaged, booooo! Second one appears to have been stolen from the docks of a LA warehouse. Let's hope that the 3rd time is the charm. They claim that I will still get the Black Cherry color:

I almost kept the first damaged kayak. It appeared to be more of a factory defect, I suppose. Either way, I paid too much to take a factory second. I did get a bit of a deal when their internet interface initially processed my ordee; a pop-up window for 15% off as a first-time buyer was presented to me. I doubted that big ticket items like the kayak would qualify, but they applied the discount. Now, with the hassle I've been going through, the seller claimed I was going to be kicked another 15% store credit. That is nice and all, but I really just want my boat. I am looking forward to running the river from downtown to the launch ramp near the house. Laps around the lake in the kayak might be a transitional exercise when it gets too cool to swim in the fall.

Hansen is angling for a Burning Man trip next year. He is looking for a bicycle for the trip. I saw one at a garage sale this past weekend that I was tempted to buy and drop off at his house. Then I remembered the price of gas and how goddam far down the tip of Texas he lives. I am going to get him a big straw hat to shade his Norwegian paste complexion. Maybe even a proper sombrero. We need to figure out what his special contribution to the festival will be. I like the idea of "body painter", but I am not sure that our guy has the artistic chops to compete with was is certain to be a crowded field.

I went to Colorado in April for two weeks and used zero vacation time. It turns out that I can set my new Fippy as a 5G hotspot and run it off the cigarette lighter plug. I bought a converter and ran my work Lappy, via VPN, the entire run on I-80. I worked my daytime shift each day and partied in the mountains when I was done. The work crew never knew I was out there. This working from home gig has advanced to the next level.

While I was in Colorado, I had the opportunity to bar-hop with Alphonso Muzelon. He was in true form. I miss not having regular access to that guy. I haven't laughed so hard in years. He had enough surliness for entire ship's crew at age 30. Now, you better hope he never gets the launch codes. I need to spend a year with him, recording the pearls of wisdom and comedy gold that flow from his pie hole. I would then transcribe the recordings into a book. Then I would feel my life's work to be complete. "In a perfect solution, we would need to get rid of all the guns. But that ain't going to happen. Hell, I own guns."

After getting some harshness in back-to-back hands, I went out first in the Hold 'Em tourney this evening. I ran pocket aces into a A-Q-J flop with a K-10 following me. That happened just after I ran my A-Q against a pre-flop all-in K-6 that ended up with a A-Q-J-10-8 board. The Ace came on fifth street. I hung out in the yard with a Mighty Mighty to kill time until a table cleared. Ultimately, I took down the Omaha game, so I came out with positive cash. Two weeks ago, I took down the Hold 'Em game, so this season hasn't treated me too roughly.

Tony told me Laydon is engaged. Man, I hope that can work. Is it too early to ask if anyone is running a survivor pool? Or do we have to wait until after the vows?

A high-school friend of mine just got married. My old, bloated ass got stuffed into a tuxedo. They got everything to fit except the forearms of the shirt. WTF? I had to let someone else put my tie on for fear of blowing out the elbows or splitting the seam. As a groomsman gift, I was spared the beers of the month club treatment that all the others received. Instead, I got the whisky of the month. Game, set, match. I brought my fifth of Black Button 4yr-old bourbon to poker to share with the group. Nice and smooth. Went well with my Mighty Mighty.

It has been warm enough to be in the lake. Seadoos were trial run on Sunday. After replacing a battery, everything appears to be ready for the summer run.

I hope that all those Javelins and Stingers make it to the front lines. I hope that command/control in Russia doesn't follow through on any launch orders from Putin. I hope those freedom-loving Ukrainians bloody Russia badly enough to dissuade China from wading over to Taiwan. I hope we are not on rails to WWIII.

I was cruising along during Jackpot week, with a highlight of pocket 4s forming up to quads on 5th street while making a house for my opponent. Of the first five knocked out, I held the chips of four of them. My demise was thick pre-flop action leaving me and three others to see Ac-8h-Jh on the board. I was holding Ad-Js and was first to act. I wished to push all the Broadway draws out before they found their fifth card, so I jammed it all-in. The guy on my left called and the other two skidaddled. My caller was holding Ah-Qh. 4th street: Qd. Fuck me. 5th street: Kh. Insult to injury. That's poker. I am sure there is poker theory that paints my play as poor, but I am satisfied with the way I handled it.

Ice Picc sent me an etouffee recipe that adds coffee into the mix and serves over grits. I don't know if I can truck with the grits instead of the traditional rice.

As of last week, 100% Kona coffee purchased on the Big Island is running about $50 per lb. Dirk's Vodka can be had at any Texas Total Wine & More for $20 a fifth and $41 per handle. Ausab Premium Australian Abalone with Shell, Farmed, 10-count ~1kg found at select Costco locations lists at $52.99. 2nd day shipping from Australia.

I've been streaming Blue Bloods in the background while I get other stuff done. It is amazing how often they can't make the case because the witnesses won't cooperate because they are helpless against criminal reprisal. It dawned on me that the laws in NYC do not allow for the witnesses to own and carry a gun. About 40% of that show's drama wouldn't exist in Dallas, Miami, Denver, Phoenix, Nashville, or Atlanta. I think it is ridiculous that there are places in this country where regular citizens who are worried about criminals in their midst are hamstrung in selecting a firearm for self defense. I find it disturbing that one group of US citizens feel they have the right to determine gun ownership for others.

With historical examples of Nazi Germany and Cuba, along with present-day examples of Venezuela, and now Ukraine, I am still baffled by how hell-bent some groups continue to press for a wide range of gun confiscation. One wonders how keen Russia would have been to escalate in Ukraine if they had gun laws and ownership rates akin to the USA. There used to be a saying that the hunters on opening day of Wisconsin deer season were equivalent to the third largest standing army in the word. Over nine days in 2021, gun hunters took 175.5k deer in just Wisconsin. In 2021, around 675k deer hunters drew licenses in Michigan. Ukraine was a little late lifting their gun restrictions. I bet having a million additional sharp shooters in country would be useful right now.

Not the weather. It is cold out there.

However, poker was a clean sweep for me on Monday. I took down the Hold-Em game and the Omaha game, plus I knocked out the Bounty (along with five others). The Hold-Em game ebbed and flowed, but after knocking out my first victim, I ran hot until I had all the chips. The only downer for me was that Tom flopped three Aces to match the one in his hand. Three of us went all the way to 5th street with him. Obviously, those of us with flushes and houses got housed and flushed. The part that particularly vexed me was when Tom put his A-A-A-A-Q up on the big board, displacing my K-K-K-K-A high-hand just a week before jackpot week. Booo! It was cool to catch my own quads from wired pairs twice (Jacks, then Sevens), but I did not get paid off on either.

I finished Station Eleven on HBO. It is a different kind of story. But nobody is walking across a frozen Lake Michigan at night. I also think the safe-handling of landmines by children was over-simplified.