What was that again?

When did it suddenly become a good idea to decide to go out to not one but TWO bars on a Monday night? And to make this decision at 10pm? When I should have been working?

Then again, I haven't been in a game if Cutthroat since college, for G-d's sake. And I won the second game when my opponent, in a glorious haze of hubris and snottiness, scratched on the eight. And he was using my cue, which somehow makes it sweeter.

WOOT!

I have ketchup under my nails. Ergh.