Work, Don't Work

This will be a test of many things. A full day off. Who'd have thought it? I'm planning things that will hopefully be fun. But I have other things on my mind. Spending shitloads of money is the only way I can think to keep the demons at the perimeter. Books, magazines and cowboy boots. Then, fuck it, I'm going to Gutshot to work.

One day I'll train the demons to work for me.

I have stuff to write today. But I can take it easy. No urgent deadlines, well not really, which means the words will come out dull on the page, but can be hammered and manipulated for some time before I press the "send" button.

But I want to be busy today. And does anyone need a poker table?

Well that's that. Poker tonight, with 'journo' friends and people I've never met before. That's at Gutshot. How convenient. Tony Holden just called to tell me he won a World Series seat at the event last night. I didn't hang around long enough to see him claim his prize and a useful chunk of text for his book. He needed to brag. I was happy to oblige. And 'B' comes quickly in the address book.