Everything 99 touches turns to gold.
I can barely stay awake. I slept 10 hours after days of abusing my body. I wasn't even in Vegas then. I was in my home city with my family, and I still managed to destroy myself.
I need to drink Gatorade every other minute. My throat hurts.
Every girl here dresses like a whore. If I don't masturbate every day before I leave the house I will go insane.
I have two beds in my room in the Pokerpwnage.com house. The other one has a stuffed lion on it. I've decided he's a bad ass. He's going to roll with me at some point in Vegas.
This new computer is so slick, but I have none of my files on it. I need to do that at some point but I'm feeling so lazy.
I can't go outside the heat will kill me.
I registered for the 1k last night. It took us a half hour to get through the line, and I was told that was a blessing compared to last year.
We went to go eat at a T.G.I Fridays, the only thing open. I walked by a dingy baccarat section in some casino, playing Chinese soap operas above. They know their audience
Everywhere you look there is some name pro you've seen on TV.
Why does John Phan never take his sunglasses off?
I always feel like it's not enough. For her, for me.
I should unpack, move the files between computers, install files, go get some groceries, finish a lesson or two, maybe set up to grind online, call my friends up, get situated.
I'll probably end up laying around watching porn, Entourage, and reading Chuck Palahniuk's book Pygmy.
It's 8:00 PM in Portugal. Time for a call.
Just getting my shit together before the war.
