By rubyjones

I am a Poker goddess.

But I may look slightly worse for wear...
Like a pubescent boy rifleing through a stash of jazz mags, I can feel a life-affirming hardness rubbing against my thigh.
It is the roll of notes I won last night, against some tough poker fiends.
It feels slightly dirty but very satisfying to pay for stuff with this money.
It makes you want to peel off a note and throw it onto the counter of a shop like a gangster.
I wonder whether I should get a 'Poker whore' tattoo over my left breast.
Then I could get it changed to 'Scrabble whore' as I get older or even 'Stannah Stairlift whore' later on.

I really need to get some rest, my eyes are burning, and I'm a bit hysterical.
Especially as I have another game tonight.

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