Seven full hours of playing perfect poker and what do I have to show for it?
Nothing. At every single point in the tourney I knew that I was easily the best player at the table.
It's all one long session you have to keep telling yourself.
Blah, blah, blah, fucking blah.
Nope, it's true. In the end, it is I who is The Tourist.
I'm just passing through folks. Don't mind me one bit.
It all started about four months ago. I guess you could say I was bored. Bored with poker, bored with poker blogs, bored with life, and bored with being bored. That's when I decided to jump into character and create good ole NeverBluff. That's right. Everything sure seemed normal in my daily walk, but one day reality slapped me around something good. My best friend was diagnosed with lung cancer, and started chemotherapy treatments immediately thereafter. This was fucking real. Something so completely real in a world that I had populated with reading blogs, playing poker, chatting online, reading books, and whatever else it was that I was doing to keep me distracted from actual living.
The news was powerful, and so close to home that the only way I could deal with it was to completely ignore it. I played more poker, and read more books, and subscribed to more blogs, and then one day finally decided to start up the blog that you're reading now. It was simply to serve as an outlet. One that I could tap into for my daily fix of simple childish poke-fun laughter and your standard dark, deprived, and debaucherous humor.
I always thought that a blog would surface one day and all of our fears would be realized. The internet had finally reached that guy. He's out there, folks, and I think that's where NeverBluff garnered a lot of his legitimacy. People know people like him. A complex parody combining every obnoxious personality trait that you could imagine. Couple this with an easily accessible medium, and voila!
The 21st century has given anyone and everyone a soapbox.
I've wanted to cut Champ off at the pass more than once, but was deterred by friends and readers who still liked tuning in to his madness every day. Everyone had their reasons for stopping by. I think some people came by because although his style was rough around the edges, he was still amusing and entertaining. I'm sure some came by to readily disagree with the most recent off color topic du jour. Some may have even checked in to feel good about their own lives comparatively using NeverBluff as a benchmark for "pathetic and utterly hopeless."
I like a good prank as much as anyone, but on my end, it was getting a bit old. Continued correspondence with very good people while pretending to be some backwoods dumbshit is a bit silly anyway. There never really was a "road map" for Poker Champ. I breathed a little life into him, and he just kinda took off.
Last week we got the good news that the chemotherapy had worked. My friend is in the clear for the time being, but still requires monthly exams for the next six months to make sure the beast doesn't return. He's smoked for the better part of his life and still remains a high risk candidate for the disease.
The real world is a motherfucker sometimes.
NeverBluff may serve to some as a reminder to not take anything too seriously. If some feathers were ruffled or panties bunched in the process, so be it. No harm was truly intended, and hopefully those that found themselves in Champ's crosshairs can appreciate some good old fashioned dark humor.
If you still want to hate, I've got a big blue veiner you can gag on. LOL!!
So, the next time a blog surfaces that's "too fat and juicy" to be true, it probably is. Well, maybe not the next time, because that will be me too, but the time after that for sure.
Play Like a Champion Today.