Deeman2
01-27-2005, 10:16 AM
Deeman and Tori arrived at PettyPoint at few minutes after noon yesterday. We were the first bandits to arrive and I was greeted by a large sign saying, "Deeman, keep out!" right in the swimming pool area. Using care to park, we got out and were greeted by SPetty and LeRoy. The area I may have previously driven off into was cordoned off. LeRoy still looked nervous until he saw the truck keys safely in my pocket. Despite my former transgression, and after negoiations and a homemade gift of a custom Deeman chalk box, SPetty let me in! The SPetty hug didn't hurt either. We took a couple of pictures but SPetty will have to post them for me as I am not in legal possession of a Class III Conceiled Webpage Permit. Tori carried my 56 lb case in (Remember ladies, I carry her saddle) and we wept with joy to see the first real table cloth we have seen in a while (rememeber where I live). Sid showed up with some outlaw from Oklahoma (with his lovely wife, Billie)and they quickly laid claim to the bar box leaving me and SPetty to do battle on the Diamond.
I would like to say it went well for me but SPetty started referring to me as Rack Boy after a few games so you can see where this is going. Now, during battle, SPetty had a six at an odd angle with a tough position to the seven on the other end (No, Wally, I wouldn't know a Wei table if it was attached to my private parts) but the six is on the head end on the wrong side of the spot with a friendly (to me) eight blocking the easy cut, her cue ball is five feet away and I'm chalking up, confident of my next waddle to the table. SPetty hits it with 4 and one half tons of inside, the six warp speeds into the opposite corner and the cue slides over, ever so painfully, to the side rail the spin grabs like Michael Jackson touching himself and spins three cushions around the table for a perfect angle off the seven to get out. I never heard a polite young Southern bell yell "Rack 'em" so, so smugly....
I found some solace in the chili and hot dogs...
Great time as usual, except for that damn shot!
Deeman
Maggie, Spetty's dog, still loves me....
I would like to say it went well for me but SPetty started referring to me as Rack Boy after a few games so you can see where this is going. Now, during battle, SPetty had a six at an odd angle with a tough position to the seven on the other end (No, Wally, I wouldn't know a Wei table if it was attached to my private parts) but the six is on the head end on the wrong side of the spot with a friendly (to me) eight blocking the easy cut, her cue ball is five feet away and I'm chalking up, confident of my next waddle to the table. SPetty hits it with 4 and one half tons of inside, the six warp speeds into the opposite corner and the cue slides over, ever so painfully, to the side rail the spin grabs like Michael Jackson touching himself and spins three cushions around the table for a perfect angle off the seven to get out. I never heard a polite young Southern bell yell "Rack 'em" so, so smugly....
I found some solace in the chili and hot dogs...
Great time as usual, except for that damn shot!
Deeman
Maggie, Spetty's dog, still loves me....