Just My Two Chips

                                        History Of Poker (or close enough)

 The birth of poker, or as I would like to think of it as. Some down and out person (we will call him Hobo, to keep the story going) was down and out, had no means to support him, and his dog Skinny. Until one night as Hobo, and Skinny was digging through peoples garbage's, looking for their weekly meal; found a deck of cards with nude paintings of women on them. The wife of this prominent home had found them, when she was getting ready to washboard the business man's pants, and in her fury, and very heated argument they were tossed like trash in to the garbage, and now rested in the hands of Hobo, and his still very hungry dog Skinny.
 Now we shouldn't pass judgement on ol' Hobo, yes he may be down on his luck, homeless, not a red cent to his name. But one thing Hobo did posses was innovation, an inventor by trade he theorized different ways on how this one deck of cards would change his life forever. Not that Hobo and Skinny had much else to do with their time, so for the first time in a long time it was time well spent.
 With his deck of 54 (that's including the jokers) he shuffled up and dealt himself many different games that him and Skinny would play. But Skinny even though a very faithful old dog that he was, just wasn't the best at keeping his cards shielded from Hobo, and so the competition just wasn't there to make Hobo feel that the game was fair. Not that Hobo was complaining, I mean winning is always the best, but it just didn't feel like winning after about 1yr. of playing with Skinny.
 So he sat an contemplated on how to get some new players. Then fate happened when another man Hobo knew, stopped by to share his take of the day. And as they all three sat there and ate, Hobo explained the games that him and Skinny have been playing. The friend didn't seem all to excited to play the game, until he learned that the games would be played with the painted women on the cards. But, to much of Hobo's surprise winning against his new opponent still didn't satisfy his need to feel like a winner. That's when Hobo's light bulb went off in his head one more time. "Stakes" Hobo said, "lets play for stakes." His friend looked at him very curiously and replied "I don't know if you know this or not, but we are homeless." Thoughts rushed through Hobo's head, and as if the answer had been there the hole time he said "well you got that nice little shed on the outskirts of town, and I have Skinny, so what ya say we play for those? If you win you get Skinny, and if win I get your shed." The man thought then shook his head in agreement. And for the first time the butterflies were flying around in Hobo's stomach as the cards were dealt.
 Six years later, Hobo and Skinny were sitting on the front porch of their new home that they had won in a poker game down at the local bar. And as Skinny and Hobo sat on the porch, Hobo realized that it was the same home from where he picked up that fateful deck, that ultimately changed his life.


 So, the moral of the story is, that anybody can win at poker. It doesn't matter how much money you make, or if went to an Ivy league college and got a P.H.D in mathematics. What makes a winner, is a person that's willing to put their ass on the line, to take whats theirs. Poker is a portrait of our primal selves. Only the strong survive.