My Subconscious Is Weird

I make so many trips to the loo each night, I’m more efficient than a NASCAR pit crew. I’m awake about three minutes each time, which is what makes this story even stranger.

Here is my internal dialogue from a random 2 a.m. loo visit from a few nights ago.

“Why do John Rahm and Tony Finau have so many Top Ten finishes? Hella short backswings. They don’t get anywhere close to parallel, but very, very quickly accelerate through the ball generating above average power. Because their swings are shorter, there’s less margin for error, thus they are more consistent than the vast majority of their peers. Thus, they are human ATM machines.

It’s the same minimalist principle I employed as a poker player. I often won at poker because whenever I was dealt a poor to middling hand, I folded. Over the course of hours, I profited from other more optimistic players staying in a round or two too many. My competitive advantage was being more disciplined about bailing early. In essence, I shortened my swing.

Governor Cuomo should shorten his swing. A lot. The more he talks, the worse things get.

This is some weird shit for 2a.m.”

I would ask you to diagnosis my condition, but in the interest of dodging Liz’s wealth tax, I think I’ll pay a therapist.

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