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| Sea Cock & breadcrumbs |
2. The Doctor
3. Wee Rambo
4. Petawatt
5. Bottleneck
6. Killawatt
7. The Raiser
Four bitch slappins into this game I'd had enough and pumped my remaining stack on QQ. Not only was this already behind the KK held by Bottleneck, the first card turned was another big durty K, well whaddayaknow. A blessed relief to be shot of this stupid fudgin pastime!!!!
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| The Dr after a Tropitoffee Bomb |
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| The Dr post Bucks Fizz Bomb |
Hopping from foot to foot he chopped down the remaining slovenly Scots in the room with a mixture of PHd level chat and strafing right/left upper cut combo's. In a flash he'd put the table back in the cupboard, emptied the ashtrays and done the dishes so he couldn't later be accused of being all bad. Without breaking stride he was down to Glentress in a matter of moments on an undersized trike with no tyres and one gear, booting it round the mountain side backwards whilst still wearing his shades. The polis warn against this, which made it all the more daring from the Beast of Bowburn. Finally deciding his manhood had been redeemed almost enough, The Doctor decided to return to the Colosseum the long way by kicking Froome into the scrub and pacemaking for Wiggins for an entire stage to ensure a maiden English (surely British) victory in the Tour de France. He's too often under appreciated, but its the unnoticed hard yards he puts in that people don't always see that make the man great (is this enough yet, I'm boring myself now?).
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| All accusations of tabloidry against this blog completely scuppered with this upskirt shot of the Dr after a Double Lolly Bomb |
Whilst Killawatt survived that error with a few chips left, a mini comeback (one of my aforementioned bitch slappins) had given him a route back in. The crunch came soon after v Sea Cock. Killa held two spades. Sea Cock held two clubs. After the turn card there were two more spades and two more clubs out, so both players flushing. The club came, Sea Cock triumphed and Killawatt was sent to reflect on where his previous poker dominance has decided to hide.
It was Bottlenecks turn next to feel the Cock of the Sea. The formers 44 nowhere near good enough to overcome 99 from the Salty Ol' Sea Dog. Then Petawatt was the next to be done up like a kipper by Captain Birdseye choking slowly like a fish in an empty bucket, I think a 10-2 off suit being the death rattle of a disappointingly nondescript performance.
Wee Rambo couldn't do better than 3rd place when his Q8 was shown the door when Sea Cock's suited A4 flopped a straight.
Suddenly there are two players who don't have a clue what day it is vying for the money and worse still, pushing right into Championship contention. Sea Cock who'd slain everyone so far apart from your humble narrator who'd deliberately fell on his sword in a huff and Doctor 'I'm awake, no, I'm sleeping again, no, I'm awake, no, I've lost it again, what's happening, HOW MOOCH' Dot-to-dot (I admit, that name might not catch on). Doctor Etc thought a Q5 was a good hand against Sea Cocks KJ suited. The cards arrived in this order; 9-3-8-K-K and it was good night ya drunken bums as the designated driver pocketed the pennies and left with his second win of the season, although crucially, he is short of his half-plus-one qualification, so it might all be in vain.
