I have neglected to mention how my sexual frustration and heightened emotions have boosted my foosball performance. Channeling all that angst into my right wrist seems to have fundamentally improved both my push and pull shots from the defensive line. Now that K. has returned from vacation, we ran the table for a significant number of matches ( Read more... )

K. announced his retirement from foosball today.

G. has stuck with his own retirement as of last Monday.

And our stock is the lowest it has been in three years.

I just turned down the emissary of the Foosball Gods when he asked me to play.

I think I'll make an effort to actually fix some bugs.

I must have done something to fall under the good graces of the Foos Gods. This morning, I trounced my ex-cubiclemate in three games straight (not only did he lose all, but he was skunked right off the bat). This afternoon, I sacrificed to the local Foos avatar (offering up myself as his victim in a handful of games, each a humiliating defeat) in ( Read more... )

I'm sweating. That goddamned foosball game. I get called out of my office while trying to finish my lunch and asked to participate in a doubles competition. I, of course, chose D.'s side - while it means I hardly played a role in our victory, it also means victory ( Read more... )

I have to leave soon for dinner with the folks ( Read more... )