know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run

I think I’m “in like” with someone.

And it’s not the boyfriend.

And it’s not at all practical.

This would be??? Run away? I don’t want to

"Yo, bartender. Jobu needs a refill."

Clothes that are not MINE or my offspring are no longer being washed.

Fuck me for assuming items in the hamper want to be washed.

I was washing clothes and threw in a pair of my house boy’s jeans FROM THE HAMPER might I add.

I washed House Boy’s MP3 player.

And got yelled at.

Lesson learned, I know when to fold ‘em now.

My nephew, ain’t he the cutest little thing? :)

You FOLD ‘em.

Meet my new ring tone :) LOL

I suck at this.

It’s the knowing part, totally capable of holding, folding, running and walking.

I don’t know what part of my life makes me feel like I am qualified to make ANY of these decisions…

But I ain’t doing too bad.

Know when to hold ‘em: If ‘em are kids, they always get held.

Know when to fold ‘em: When laundry mountain gets over knee high, it’s time to fold ‘em.

Know when to walk away: Walk away when respect is gone.

Know when to run: Runnin to the fridge to get another beer.

I GOT THIS

I was going to use run or hide as the options to handle life.

I’m done running, I won’t hide.

and there’s some laundry that needs folding…

I give up… You can’t live life by those four options. That is ridiculous.

All of life’s shit can be combatted with two actions. Run or Hide.

Or run then hide.

or hide then run…

Now ev’ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin’
Is knowin’ what to throw away and knowing what to keep

‘Cause ev’ry hand’s a winner and ev’ry hand’s a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep