RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Fortress of Awesome Chat You gotta know when to hold them (a farewell message)

On a warm summers evenin on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin out the window at the darkness
til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, son, Ive made a life out of readin peoples faces,
And knowin what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
So if you dont mind my sayin, I can see youre out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey Ill give you some advice.

So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
Said, if youre gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when youre sittin at the table.
Therell be time enough for countin when the dealins done.

Now evry gambler knows that the secret to survivin
Is knowin what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
cause evry hands a winner and evry hands a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.

So when hed finished speakin, he turned back towards the window,
Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.

You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when youre sittin at the table.
Therell be time enough for countin when the dealins done.

You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count you r money when youre sittin at the table.
Therell be time enough for countin when the dealins done.




Goodbye messages at message boards are laughably ridiculous. Who, frankly, really gives a toss if soemone who has a barely registerable electronic existence in your life fades away? But, I figured the oldtimers deserve to know where I've got to, and I can't be arsed working out how to do a mass PM.

In a nutshell, its not you, its me. I just need some space. Actually, someone has foolishly put me in a position of responsibility. This means while I'm living the high life eating Crimean caviar off the wings of my Lear jet while bisexual centrefolds wipe my pristine arse with rose-scented freshly minted $100 bills, I haven't been able to get here for almost six months. I'm hardly ever even at that crackhouse called Facebook anymore, although I'm still about at Shartak in occasional staccato bursts of activity helping out with game development.

In any event, I can't see myself getting here very often in the foreseeable future, so kiss my arse.

But first, let me reveal all of my alt IDs: Lothar, Basti, Prometheus, TTT, Mxy, Son of Mxy, Kristogar Velo, Harley, JLA, and Nowhereman. Fuck me crimson, its going to be quiet when I'm gone. Rob, see you in NY next May.

Goodnight, you've been an audience.

Here's the UBB quote tombstone.



PS Rob is gay.