Last reminder/shameless plug. Omaha 8 limit league tourney tonight at Noble, 9:00 CST. I'll be a bit incognito, as I don't want that bastard scurvydog to end up on top of the leaderboard and pose a moral quandry for myself. But yeah, good times, good prizes for the top 3 at the end of the first leg, all that good stuff.
I have to go get a haircut. I hate getting haircuts. My damn hairline's been receding since I was about 13 years old (truly), but it keeps hanging on in that annoying in-between stage, where it's still kind of there, obviously fleeing the scene but not quite desperate enough to just shave it all off and frighten small children and dogs with my big, lumpy shaved noggin'. Hair is one of those things that I value and worry about right about at the same degree as worrying about whether Proust is an overrated writer (yes), or if Top Gun is a better movie than Cocktail (no). But now I get to go and feign interest in said hair, nodding and smiling, and pay $15 for the privilege.
That's about all I have. Exciting, exciting stuff. Yep.