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Friday, January 13, 2012

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THURSDAY, JANUARY 12, 2012
Mike at 1:28 PM
Week 16 & 17 - Annie L.A.
In 3 or 4 parts
Part 1...
I haven't bet a game since I got cleaned out
Sunday afternoon. It's Wednesday. This is the
longest I've gone without having money on
something since the 90's. I put the Sunday
Night Football game on and was asleep on the
couch by halftime. On Monday, the biggest day
of the year in College Football, I didn't watch
one minute of any of the six bowl games. I
can't remember the last time I missed a Rose
Bowl. When I was two? Three? It can't get any
more depressing than to get out of bed, when
there's a game on, and you're too broke to bet
it. When I did finally crawl out of bed at 3pm, I
was so despondent, I agree to hang out with
Annie for the day. We went to the mall. Got
something to eat at P.F . Chang's (I had them
seat us way in the back, away from the T.V . at
the bar.) I ate some dumplings and Annie told
me she's been reading the fucking blog since
the beginning and is concerned about the
gambling. She doesn't think we can work if I
continue to bet the games. I assured her it's at
least 80% fiction and told her she should
probably stop reading the fucking blog. She
agreed and promised to do so. No mention of
wanting to fuck our shrink or anything like that.
Genius. Anyway, we came back to the
apartment and watched season three of Curb
Your Enthusiasm until we both passed out. The
Curb is my favorite T.V . show of all time, and
season three is my favorite season of The Curb .
But still. ... with all the nice things that
happened... Monday was one of the worst
fucking days of my life.
Here it is Thursday. I'm back in the game. I
deposited a couple hundred last night and
banged West Virginia. Easy winner. I've got it all
on Michigan catchin' 7 against Indiana. I put
the bet in last night so I didn't lose everything
on horses today before the game started. So
I'm gonna make some eggs, sunny side up (I
like to dip the toast), and go for a fucking jog. I
feel like shit - and it's all Annie's fault. The
bullshit that broad pulls. The nagging, the
endless flirting in front of my eyes, the selfish
acts of cruelty. Yesterday these reflections left
me alone. Today is my day to obsess over
them. What the hell am I gonna do? I have to
have a clear head to throw down this blog. This
jog better work. If it doesn't I'm gonna have to
go to a yoga class, and I'm not down with
yoga. If the yoga doesn't work I'm gonna have
to hop on a plane to Berlin. Fucking Berlin.
an hour or so later... .
What's the deal with these headphones you put
straight into your ear? Particularly these white
Apple ones. They won't stay in my goddamn
ear. I look around and every broad I pass
seems to have no problem at all, while I spend
most of my jog putting these fucking things
back into my ear. I'm gonna have to go buy a
headband. I hate any form of headband, and
the people that wear them. Fuck.
The good thing is I got this blog figured out by
mile three. Once I get into this blog it's over. I
can chill with the obsessive thoughts for a bit
until it's done. So I'm firing up The Joy
Formidable, strapping on a real pair of
headphones - fucking sunnheiser - and doin this
shit. Let's go. Fucking Saints!
Somewhere in Pasadena... Early 2008
It's a little after 4pm pst. I' m sitting at the bar
at Barney's Beanery somewhere in Pasadena.
I'm drinking a Stella and watching the first
halves of a few shitty college and NBA games.
I'm sitting at the right corner of the bar. I
always sit here because they have three small
T.V. 's, as well as a couple larger HD ones. I
usually try to get here at least ten minutes
before 4, so I can have the bartender set me
up with all my games. That way if someone sits
down next to me and wants to watch another
game he can't.. ..he simply can't.
I have my charger plugged into a outlet in the
back behind an old Donkey Kong machine.
There's a neon Bud sign back there that's the
only thing in the bar I can unplug without
anyone noticing. I drop a few quarters into that
fucking machine every now and then. King of
Kong. Great fucking movie.
Annie will be here, as she always is, a little after
five to pick me up. This is routine. This is the
thing. She works for a newspaper here in "The
Dena ", her first job straight out of college. She
gets up around 8:15 and leaves the apartment
at 8:45 to go to work. I'm living with her, and
have to get up with her, because I'm not
allowed to be in the apartment (she has two
roomates) when she's not there. This is not her
rule, it's Lisa's, this big Asian broad who owns
the apartment. You see a couple months ago, a
week before Christmas, I flooded the fucking
apartment. And when I say flooded, I mean the
bottom floor was like a giant kiddie pool. You
put a little slide in the middle of that thing and
you'd never have to see your kids again.
It goes like this. I'm doing laundry in the early
afternoon... .
I put my t-shirts on hangers (I hang dry those
fuckers) and hang them up all over Annie's
room. I have one shirt left and nowhere to
hang it. Annie has a little balcony outside of her
room. I walk out there and look up at the
ceiling. There's an old sprinkler up there. It
looks like it's been there since the 70's. There's
no fucking way that thing works. I hook my t-
shirt right on that guy and I'm immediately
blasted by this purple shit, which turns out to
be water, and almost knocked right off the
balcony. When the shock wears off, and I
realize exactly what I've done and the
magnitude of the situation I now find myself in,
I try to stop it with my finger. That doesn't
work. I decide to get the hell out of there and
run into the bathroom. I grab a towel and check
myself in the mirror. I look like Grimace. I
towel myself off and go back out on that
fucking balcony. The stuff pouring out of that
damn sprinkler actually looks like real water by
now. Again I'm up into that sprinkler with my
fingers. I try to find a button or something to
stop it... like it's a fire detector or something. At
this point the water is flowing inside and
beginning to fill up Annie's bedroom. I plead
with the sprinkler to stop with the fucking
water. If I wasn't me I would have cried.
Finally I say fuck it. I'm beat. I towel myself off
and call 911. Hello. Yeah I kinda made a big
mistake here and need a little help.. .HELP!
I call Annie. She's pretty calm, but then again
she doesn't see me standing in the middle of
her bedroom with water up to my ankles. She
gives me the big Asians number. Fuck. I really
don't want to talk to the big Asian. I call her and
as I'm telling her her apartments under water I
hear the sirens. She tells me she's on her way
and hangs up the phone. I wade downstairs
and open the door for these assholes. At this
point water is rolling down from the ceiling and
the water level was beginning to climb. I
actually have a pretty good grasp on the
situation at this point and feel like the only way
to save us all is to find the fail safe switch in the
apartment complex. I mean there's got to be a
fucking fail safe doesn't there? Anyway, the lead
fireguy leads a small crew upstairs to the water
park. The bastard is carrying a piece a wood in
his right hand. Isn't there a fail safe man? He
tells me a couple of his guys are trying to locate
it as we speak. So when we get upstairs this
guy, all done up like Baldwin in Backdraft , goes
out onto the balcony with this piece of wood
and tries to stop this shit. He's out there for
about five minutes getting blasted and having
no success. Finally, he taps out and hands the
piece of wood to one of his guys. His guy's out
there for less than a minute before he taps out.
I try to be a hero and ask them to give me the
piece of wood so I can have a go at it buy they
don't even acknowledge me. Then the lead
bastard gets on the walkie talkie and says
something in fireman code I guess since I
couldn't understand a word of it. A couple
minutes later this guy comes up the stairs
wearing an all black fire suit with a pair of black
ski goggles on. The lead bastard hands him the
piece of wood. This fire sniper guy walks out on
the patio and within thirty seconds he stops the
flood with that fucking piece of wood. He
immediately leaves the room, never to be seen
again.
It turns out the sprinkler system is so old that
there's no fail safe, at least not one that works.
The fireman had to turn of the water supply to
the entire street (or something like that; no idea
how that works.) My goal at this point is to get
the hell away from that apartment complex as
soon as possible without having to talk to Lisa.
But the only entrance is through this courtyard
on the side of the building, and there's no away
around that big Asian. As I walk by her whole
body shifts, almost jumps around and she
squares right up, seemingly ready to come at
me like she's Bruce Lee. Fuck I hope she doesn't
know karate. I'm speechless. I feel like if I try
to speak she'll smack me in the face. So I just
shrug my shoulders, turn, and walk out just like
I would if I was stealing a coffee from Whole
Foods.
Annie oh Annie. It's amazing she didn't dump
me right then and there. She's either a saint, or
just really desperate for a boyfriend. At this
point it could go either way I think. A couple
weeks earlier, I spilled a tall glass of water on
her laptop while she was at work. The thing
went to sleep. I called my friend T. (because
I'm an idiot who knows nothing and couldn't fix
anything if I did), who tells me, god love her, to
get a blow dryer and blow dry the fucker. So I
take her advice, and after a couple minutes of
waving this thing on top of the laptop, I notice
the S key is melting. I call the Apple store. They
tell me it'll probably cost around $800 to
repair. I laugh for a few minutes then crawl
under the covers. When Annie gets home and I
show her the laptop she says, "well it was
getting old and I'm going to need a new one for
law school anyway." As she did then, she does
now with this flood. "Accidents happen," she
says. "Seems like it was the buildings fault. I
think Lisa has a pretty good insurance plan." I
get off with a $1000 deductible - which Annie
pays and which I've yet to pay her back for -
and banishment from the apartment during
daytime hours. Not such a bad deal
considering. http://gambleordie.blogspot.com/2012/01/week-16-17-annie-la_12.html?m=1

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