And he’s pretty good at it, so he’s a diamond-level guest at all the harrahs casinos, meaning they always comp his room and meals. My mom has a second job with her friend’s modeling company, and they were working a banquet in Vegas. My moms main job is as a flight attendant though, so we fly free. So my dad just took off to Vegas the night of my moms job, and when they were done, he took her and all her model friends (7 of them) to a fancy-ass restaurant. He’s friends with one of the waiters there just from visiting so often, but they don’t know much about my dads life/job/whatever. So when my dad shows up with a bunch of models, the waiter comes up and he’s like “ok dude spill. what do you do? what’s your job?” And my dads like “it’s a mystery” because he’s a mailman
(talk about a story not going where you expected it…)
“ohhh would you look at that, my pawns found jesus and now they’re all bishops”
“so i realize it looks like i’m putting a thimble on the board but actually my rooks have been using their downtime to build another rook, one that’s better, stronger, faster—”
“hey welcome back. while you left to get a snack, those six pieces you’d captured slipped their guards, tunneled to safety and emerged right in the middle of your royal palace.”
“oof, looks like you’ve got my king cornered…maybe this is a good time to mention that shortly before we started playing, my pawns and knights revolted and instituted a representative democracy. feel free to kill the puppet ruler that was the one remaining vestige of our tyranny, you cringing servant of the crown. vive la revolution!”
did you mean Mornington Crescent
If you’ve never seen this video, WATCH IT!
this is the best video I have ever seen in my entire life holy fuck
THIS VIDEO MADE ME SO MAD I WAS EXPECTING SOME GREAT NEW STRATEGY
my great-grandfather had to leave italy in the 20′s because he hit a fascist with a tuba, so if you think I am going to take this sitting down you are going to have to catch these hands and also this tuba
I think a lot about who I am to other people in the world–particular who I am to strangers as a mere concept in their lives.
Today this woman called our information desk and said, “my son’s band is playing tonight. I want to come see him, but he never answers his phone…..I want to be there. Have you heard anything about his band?”
And I felt so bad for this lady but I’m not in the music scene around here so I had to tell her no, sorry.
Five hours later, I’m hiking and run into a group of guys setting up for some outdoor performance, and as I watch them unload the drums it hits me.
“Hey,” I said, “are y’all in a band?”
They said yeah and smiled and I told them “one of your moms called today. She wants to watch you play, but she can’t get a hold of you. Call your mom.”
And they all pulled out their phones and started discussing whose mom it probably was as they presumably dialed their own.
And now, unless we meet again and recognize each other, that’s who I’ll be forever to those guys–some mysterious courier for mom-messages who came out of the woods and told them their mom called.
I didn’t even tell them why their mom called me. Who am I to their mom?? Nobody even asked. They just took my word for it and called their mothers.
Speak with Tenderness 