Poker Night (and some stuff about vampires)

Today, I learnt discovered CREATED strikethrough! I am really excited so sorry about all the fascinating lame ways I will show off this new skill of mine.

Anyway, I am thinking of having a Poker Night poker night at my house in the next month or so, depending on when the IRD decide to give me some taxxx back and/or when I get a job. Everyone is invited! This is primarily directed at people who live in Christchurch, but if those further afield want to fly themselves over here then I'm not about to stand in the way of that.

The International Poker Tournament poker night (Oh my God, who taught me to use strikethrough? this knowledge is not safe in my hands) will be let's say about the end of April. $5 buy-in, winner takes all, and it will of course be the so-hot-right-now Texas Hold 'em. That is my favourite kind of poker, because I'm so trendy! Also because it is the only kind of poker I know how to play.

BYO: whiskey, cigars, $5.

Here are the rules guidelines House Rules:

strikethrough rocks!

Rule 1: Dress nice. (That means pants are strongly recommended compulsory before 10pm. (Or, you know, skirts for the ladies (or any men who want to wear them, my poker night supports alternative lifestyle choices.))
Rule 2: Absolutely no singing of Poker Face
Rule 3: Absolutely no singing of Poker Face.
Rule 4: I am an exception to Rules 2 & 3 because sometimes I have poor impulse control
Rule 4a: Doesn't matter if you're a crappy poker player. You'll be drunk anyway. All you really have to know is always bet a lot. It makes people think you're a High Roller, and High Rollers are cool. Take James Bond, for instance. Did he look at his 2/7 offsuit and fold? No, no he did not. He made a pithy remark, and then he bet. (Betted?)

Obviously, the exception is aces. Never bet on aces. Also if you have a pair of something that's not good either. We're not playing Happy Families. Poker is a game for grown-ups.

Rule 5: If you are caught cheating, I will shoot you. If you are not caught cheating, you will probably win. Your call.

So if after all that anybody still wants to come, or, you know, feels obliged by the bonds of friendship, flick me a txt or leave a comment or something. One of those things. Or an email. Some form of communication. Please. I'm so lonely.

In Other News:

- I am going to start a music movement called 'Outie' which will be the antithesis of 'Indie'. Think Spice Girls on crack wearing Hammer Pants and covering Cotton-Eye Joe or something like that. Alternatively, think My Chemical Romance in drag singing barbershop. Ah, fame! How it stings the nostrils. Or perhaps that is the cocaine I'm just not sure any more. Perhaps I am going Proper Mad? I have an ex-boyfriend who was about as mental as I am, give or take a little, and every so often he would look at me in wide-eyed concern and say, "Ally, I am afraid I'm going Proper Mad. Will you tell me if I go Proper Mad? As in Batshit Fucking Insane?" "Yes, dear."

- Do you think that if we lived in an all-vampire society, people would just wander about naked? I ask this because I was talking to a friend about why we don't all just be naked, and he said something along the lines of "because most people are gross and it gets cold all the time." However, all vampires seem to be attractive, and don't feel the cold (? I made that up assume that's the case), so maybe they'd just all wander round in the nuddy. Guess we'll never know.

- Why are all vampires attractive, anyway? Just once I'd like to read a story about a vampire who was a bit chubby and had bad breath and sat in his room all day playing online games. Oh wait no I wouldn't, I'd rather read about gorgeous and slightly fey aristocratic vampires. Guess I just answered my own question, there. Also, if you were a vampire (where did this tangent come from?) picking someone to vampirise 'turn' you'd probably pick someone cute. I mean, they're going to be hanging round for all of eternity looking like that. Do you really want to spend eternity with someone who picks lint out of their belly button? No, I didn't think so.

- In the early stages of my parents' relationship, my father collected and saved his belly-button lint with the intention of using it to stuff a pillow, which he would then present to my mother as a token of his love. For some reason he never finished it, but apparently he amassed a sizeable lint stockpile before abandoning the project. And you wondered why I turned out so weird.