Sunday, July 31, 2005

Donk Manifesto

I latch on to words sometimes. Mainly for their comedic value, some words just make me smile inside, sometimes laugh on the outside. Even when they are no longer funny to anyone else, I beat a dead horse as much as I can. Case in point, my Arnold voice - "Get to da choppah!"


In college, the word was "gugh." It rhymes with "duh" but you have to spell it differently. You just have to. Keith Olberman went to my college and popularized it on ESPN Sports Center, perhaps you've heard him once or twice. I like to think I invented its useage and he took the ball and ran.


Nowadays, the word is "donk." I'm putting it in nearly every sentence during regular everyday conversation. If I hear a song on the radio, I'll insert "donk" into the song.

If the donks try to draw on you, cap it like it's hot, cap it like it's hot, cap it like it's hot. Snoop would be proud.


What kills me the most is that donks are everywhere. Work is filled with them. General suburbia is a breeding ground. The bottom line for me is that I hate, HATE, being the one to pay the price for other people's mistakes.

Someone fucks up, they should feel the pain, not me. It happens in life all to often. At work, we're often besieged by crisii (is that the plural for crisis???) when someone hasn't prepared for a meeting scheduled months ago. I hate that. Why should I have to get my panties in a bunch for you?


And so again, poker mimics real life. The donks make the mistakes and you are the one paying the price. Literally. There is no avoiding it really. I often say that the price for being intelligent is living with KNOWING when you've been screwed. Fat, drunk and stupid is perhaps one way to go through life. If only to avoid the donks.

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