My Weekend in London

My good friend Malcolm Glazier, owner of Manchester United, invited me over for the weekend to watch his team play my team Arsenal at Old Trafford. The game was on Sunday, and he was going to fly me up from London via his private jet Sunday morning, so I had a Saturday to kill in the UK's biggest city. I probably should've kept a low profile, but sometimes I have diffculty with that.

I turned down invites by Gwenyth Paltrow and Elton John and instead decided to take it easy by playing some craps at an underground casino. The next thing I knew I had somehow talked my way into a backroom high stakes poker game. Considering I needed to take it easy, I probably should've avoided palming cards, but I really wanted to stick it to these limeys.

Palming cards while playing Texas Hold 'Em is an interesting undertaking. I first had to palm a cheap card with no one looking. I took a four of hearts and stuffed it up my sleeve. The next move was to take a great card and replace the four, and I did that when I was dealt an ace of spades. I even played the four of hearts with the five of hearts I was dealt with the ace. Then I got the big one. An ace of diamonds that I paired with the ace up my sleeve. I slow played the fuckers to a big pay day. Then I was busted.

It wasn't for palming the cards, but rather for killing the big cheese. When his strong man took hold of my arm to toss me out, the palmed card was revealed. Luckily I stored my Alka-Seltzer tablet, a la Bolo Yeung from Bloodsport. I crushed it in my hands and threw the dust in his eyes, escaping in a cloud of white smoke.

But my troubles weren't over. All my money and my passport were at the hotel I was staying at, and when I tried to get in, I found two suspicious looking chaps staking the place out. I spent the night moving from bench to bench, and then missed my flight to the game. I had to stow away on a freight ship bound for Boston, where I lived for three weeks on canned crab meat and Guiness, and kept my sanity by reading paperback copies of Dickens novels. I prematurely thought I was in Boston, and instead disembarked in New Foundland. I had to hitchhike all the way back home.