Sinking.

Fuck February. I hate this month. I hate it with the burning fire of a thousand suns. I’ve written before about how this whole month is complete shit, but every time I think I’m ready for February, it never ceases to impress me with the incredibly creative ways that it comes up with to just … Continue reading Sinking.

30 For 30: Whitman

“I am the teacher of athletes, He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own, He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.” I always loved this passage, and I thought about it a lot while writing my last set of posts … Continue reading 30 For 30: Whitman

15 Monkeys and the Suicide King, Part III: Lord Dunkin’

The boor covers himself, the rich man or the fool adorns himself, and the elegant man gets dressed.

Walk the floor at any casino during a night during the weekend and it is an absolutely crazy place. Fortunes (or what seems like it) are won and lost every second, and the air is filled with shouts of exultation, profanities, and ‘MONKEY’. I have no idea where that term comes from, but I can tell you what it means. There are 52 cards in a deck, in blackjack and baccarat, a 10, Jack, Queen, and King all count as a ten. When you need a ten, people yell all sorts of things; Breaker Breaker!, Put a picture on it!, Throw some paint!, Big!, and of course, MONKEY! No one knows why, or at least I don’t. It’s just been passed down from gambler to gambler, until the origins are unknown. And that’s the thing about gambling. The history of it is an oral tradition, passed down from generation to generation. There are some things that can’t be written down, they have to be experienced. However, this is the story of a Jersey Boy in Lord Dunkin’s Court.

Continue reading “15 Monkeys and the Suicide King, Part III: Lord Dunkin’”