Unofficial Professional Chess Player and Wet Cats

As I sip my Merlot in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace, I smile. Content in the fact that my victory over Matty Ebs will soon take place, and Jordan will swiftly replenish my dwindling poker bankroll over on Full Tilt. Yes friends, I will soon be able to call myself a professional chess player. I have yet to see a dime from my coaching gig, and the money I make from winning the first annual blogger chess tournament is more than I've made from any form of employment over the past month, thus it is now my profession.

The fact that I can't beat half of my friends at chess doesn't phase me. I'll be a professional, and they aren't, so nyah nyah! Andrew may be a professional drinker after his trip to Ireland, if he bets the right Irishman, but the Irish are supposedly strong drinkers and might require a handicap due to Andrew's size. If my friend accepts any sort of handicap, he is sure to lose, and will continue to hold the title of: Unemployed!

Today was quite the dreary day. I love dreary days in Seattle. It makes me wonder what Ichi does differently on a rainy day versus a dry day. He hasn't seen much rain since Portland, and he keeps meowing intently at me, commanding me to shut off the rain valve. I think Ichi probably sleeps more and 'cats around' less when it rains, much like the rest of us.

Another thing I've always wondered about cats is when it rains, their fur is wet to the touch, but are the cats themselves wet? Does the moisture get down to their skin, or does magic cat saliva act as Scotchguard for their fur? I guess it doesn't really matter, because I pet him as soon as he gets inside and press all the water from his fur into his skin anyways, hah! He hates that.