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Kicked In The Junk

A "share" blog for fellow poker bloggers who've been kicked in the junk one too many times.
Bad beat via a two outer on the river? Boss giving you shit?
Click the Admin link below and get to writing.

Login: kickedinthejunk Password: groinpains


Two stories:

Yesterday I was on the way back from lunch with 4 fellow employees when the following conversation about poker came up. As set up, there were 4 young guys in the car (including myself) and 1 older woman. And to my local buddies who read this blog...no I did not start the conversation...

Woman: "I thought you had a poker game at your house every night. 24/7."
Poker Buddy: "Noooo...24/7...you must be thinking about the size of my junk."
Woman: "No that would be 24 divided 7."
Me & Other Two Guys: [Laughing Asses Of]
Me: "She just called you out on the size of your junk dude."

And then it happened. This is the "I shit you not" portion of the story. Not even 5 seconds after the above exchange, the following truck passed directly in front of us turning into a business complex...

Obviously I don't mean this exact truck and the Business Junkees on top, but it was a similar truck with the huge 1-800-GOT JUNK? on the side. In that moment, I was speechless. Inside, I was losing it, but I knew only my poker buddy - and you dear poker bloggers - would truly get how funny it is. I finally said, "check out that junk truck", but it was all lost in the laughter of the situation. For me, however, I knew it would make for an excellent post on Kicked In The Junk.


I made lunch for myself today instead of going out to eat. I've been trying to eat better and spend less money so it was the right thing to do. At the building I work in, there's a lobby where a few drink machines and tables are set up so you can eat and look out a huge window overlooking the parking lot and park. No one ever really sits there and the machines barely get any use because the lobby is kind of out of the way for most people. For the most part, every suite has its own drink & food machines so this one is kind of pointless. However, those tables are where I eat whenever I make my lunch and want to get away from the office. Typically I will have something to read - often printouts of my fellow bloggers posts - and today was no exception. Some capital writing out there by you guys. But that's not what this story is about.

As I was finishing up lunch I felt a rumble in the bronx (stomach felt a bit odd) and I suddenly knew some gas wanted to get the hell out of me ultra quick. I knew I was no where near a bathroom, but felt I was in a pretty safe place to drop a bomb and flee the scene of the crime. I looked to my left and right...I checked in front of me and - most importantly - behind me. All was clear so I let the air down there run its course. And though I tried to avoid any "noise", my body clearly didn't get the memo cause out came a monstrous "bbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrr." Still, I figured, nobody will ever know. And as that nobody will ever know statement hit my brain, fear struck my entire being. I had forgotten to look up. The tables were on the 2nd floor and there was a 3rd floor balcony over looking them. As I began to look up I was hoping beyond hope that no one was there, but I was also resigning myself to the fact that - because it's me we're talking about here - someone would obviously be standing right there. But I was wrong. Unfortunately for me, I was wrong because there were TWO people leaning against the balcony looking down right at me. Two women...one probably my age and the other probably in her 60's. I shook my head - accepting full responsibility for my actions - then stood up and walked out. As I write this now I am laughing, but in that moment, I was waiting for someone to come around the corner and kick me in the junk for being such a dumbass. And for the record, it wreaked something fierce.

Such an idiot.

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