Sunday, April 11, 2010

Zinga bing a bing bing

Someday remind me to talk to you about the world inside Zinga Poker. Some go there to play poker. I go there to do that AND socialize. I have had hours of dicussions at a Zinga poker table. Preferably with lovely young ladies. But with all types. Someone needs to write a book about life inside Zinga poker.

The lites go down the air is full of smoke and coffee aroma, there are Islamic Radicals, Afghan Princesses, Beauty contest winners, Jokers, Zombies, Vampires, and conn men, players begging for chips. Addictive, challenging, a reality of its own.

Talking about koolaid.

A qorld worthy of a story to be told.

Dont be surprised if the person next to you isnt real. They may be a ZINGA personification. Perhaps an alter ego created to do illicit acts and devious actions, to find illusive romance, admiration, or recognition.

And yes, friendship.

I have thought about writing this story, but gentlemen dont kiss and tell. Perhaps I could invent certain personifications to disguise the players... It's a thought.

Personifications of personifications within layers of alternate realities.

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