Strip Poker

Can you feel it?

Can you feel the Itch? Poker night...

It's coming.

Subconsciously, I start to twitch. I automatically assess patterns for pairs, I find flushes in my boss's tie, I long for ladies who look like three of a kind.

I have a strange and unspeakable desire to watch hour upon hour of Full House.

It's coming. It's time to dust off the speed felt. It's time to shuffle the cards. It's time to count the chips. I was robbed by Sadna last time (although I still owe her money). I aim to get it back. Josh still fancies himself a player. Taki and Dylan have never met a hand they didn't like.

Nancy should be back in town, and Colby has been waiting patiently to take more of my cash. It's on babies. It's on. Texas Hold 'em. No limit. There's room for ten. Who's in? It's a cash game, so bring the green.

Of course there is another. There is an alternate form of the game, a deviant form played by teens and horny drunken college students. In some ways it is the purest specimen of the game. In other ways, there is nothing pure about it. It is Strip Poker, sport of kings, and quickest scheme, if not the most subtle, to get the girls undressed.

Here is the warning though, a wise word of caution. Wear clean underwear. Your mother told you this. She said she was worried that you'd get bludgeoned by a bus and taken to the hospital, where the skid-marks in your jockeys would alert the authorities that she was a bad mother. But, no! That was just a ruse, because your mom knew. She KNEW that you were a dirty little pervert and someday would be found sucking-out on fifth street, holding the deadman's hand against three Jacks. She knew you'd loose at strip poker and she just wanted you to be prepared.

So, think ahead TJ, if ever there is a chance that you will belly up to the naked game and play a hand. If you have the XY chromosome pair, think boxers, or at the very least, think boxer-briefs. However, for the love of god, no tighty whities. I mean, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, who the fuck, in their right mind wears white jockeys past the age of 10? For the love of all things decent, buy some fucking underwear that doesn't make your wife hate herself for being alive. There's just no fucking excuse.

And girls... Girls... Strip poker was invented specifically to separate you from your clothing. That is why the game exists. So, you damn-well better come dressed for action. If the word "grandma" can reasonably be used in any manner to describe your panties, then just go home. There is a French-cut minimum, but really, why aren't you wearing a thong? It is the wave of the future. It is the panty of tomorrow. It covers your cootch, and leaves no panty line. The boys like it. The girls approve of it. Just do it for god's sake.

Alternatively, the square-cut boy-panty thingies are fine. I don't care what shape your ass is in, these suckers make your hind-quarters shine. So, take some time and take some pride and clad your ass in something worth wagering for.