Stolen Words...

'...He remembered once when the grass was damp and she came to him on hurried feet, her thin slippers drenched with dew. She stood upon his shoes nestling close and held up her face, showing it as a book open at a page. 

 "Think how you love me," she whispered. "I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am tonight." 

  But Dick had come away for his soul's sake, and he began thinking about that. He had lost himself- he could not tell the hour when, or the day or the week, the month or the year. Once he had cut through things, solving the most complicated equations as the simplest problems of his simplest patients. Between the time he found Nicole floundering under a stone...'

excerpt from Fitzgerald, deep into Book 2 of TENDER IS THE NIGHT. I don't think they'll be missed. Too many more like these to notice. 

A 'musing' Thought #14

To dubious characters I am drawn; from dubious character, repelled.

COME AND GO BLUES

Today marks the anniversaries of Kurt Cobain's birth and Hunter S. Thompson's death. Two visionaries, both gifted with the ability to entertain and push buttons and boundaries simultaneously. As much as we enjoyed their work, we equally look for more, as if their exits weren't explicit enough. That's all folks. The fire which forged word and song, reduced to hissing ash with nothing left to stoke. For our eyes and ears, their output should be understood as good choices throughout; missed, understood.

WIN WITH THE BAD, LOSE WITH THE GOOD: SOMETIMES A LESSON, SOMETIMES A DEAL

A fairly small stack went all-in ahead of me. I looked down at ace/king, both clubs, and pushed my stack of almost four times the other all-in, hoping to give the small stack protection. I was pretty sure that the other all-in was ahead for now, but I liked what I saw in my pockets and thought my stack was plenty large enough to drive out any wood bees behind me. Keller, however, put a different accent on the proceedings and said, "with Marcus being such a good host and having to sit here and watch us play without him in, ...I call", and pushed his slightly larger than my stack in, and turned over two tens, while J-free, the short stack, showed a pair of jacks. Flop comes, 4-2-4, two of them clubs. Now I've got two over and a flush draw. I felt pretty good. My lots of outs never came though. The turn and the river were both blanks. Marcus had to watch on as others played through, while my big slick got sent home a loser.  Still, it ended early enough to get home and enjoy some time with dad and Mojo. A replay of the Beatles 50th Anniversary special was on, so dad was rockin'. I think I played my end well, in what was my last hand, and throughout the evening; I won with bad cards and lost with good, and I hop Keller took 'em down fast and got our fine host to an early bedtime. Bastard.