A constant kicking to the family jewels

That is how my Sunday afternoon felt. One kick after another.

It started with the Packers blowing a lead and a somber mood at the bar. It looked to be a good day until the Vikings kicked the field goal with time expiring. Then everyone was down.

That didn't bother me too much as I was planning to take off to play the Poker Stars Blogger Invitational at 5. I made a quick stop to get some beer and I logged in ready to play.

Only to find out it had started at 3, not 5. I don't know how I screwed this one up but I had 220 in chips and was about to be knocked out. That kick to the nads was bad enough but hurt when I get Cowboys and run into Rockets. Ouch.

Speaking of Cowboys, they delivered a kick themselves. Unlike Cortez, who missed a game clincher to the left, they delivered a solid shot to my sack, juggling my boys, and allowed Seattle to not only move easily down the field with 2 minutes left (once again after defensively dominating the #1 offense in the NFL), but to allow a turnover and give the game away with a long field goal. I think this team could be really good, but they don't want to be. I would like to say they are the best team in the NFC, but I can't. If they were that good, they would have won the game.

Just when I think the swelling is subsiding I log onto Full Tilt Poker to play another tournament just to blow a satellite token on a tournament that I didn't want to play and didn't want the prize. I also was playing a smaller tourney there and came in 8th place. But I screwed the pooch there too but not hitting the button to put me all in and thusly was sucked out on the river. A self inflicted kick there.

But wait, it isn't over. I then find out that wrestling legend and Milwaukee icon, Da Crusher, had passed away. You couldn't grow up in Milwaukee watching wrestling and not know who Da Crusher was. It is with a heavy heart that we say goodbye to him.

Then my cat manages to get his own shots in. After playing poker, I layed down on the couch to catch some TV only to have his lard ass jump into my lap and squash my boys again! Can't I catch a break? Of course not! At two in the morning, I hear the cat about to vomit. I tell you, alarm clocks should play the sound of cats about to puke. If that doesn't wake you up quickly, I do not know what will. So at 2 in the morning, I am now wide awake after knocking the cat off the bed and trying to find out where he did in fact yack. I couldn't find a pile of puke so I tried to get back to sleep. Instead, I layed there trying to doze off. The alarm, the radio not the cat, soon went off and I found myself stuck in traffic. Thanks.

I should just sit at my desk and put ice on my sack. I got kicked in the junk a few too many times over the last 18 hours. I need some rest.