Pinochle.  I love pinochle.  For those of you who aren’t card players, it is a card game.  No need to go into the boring details of how to play nor the rules and variations of play.  This is about the deliciousness of playing pinochle with three of my best friends, The Funky Four, and our voracious appetite for getting together to play a game that should by now be dull.

We play for money; no fools here.  We know that any card game worth playing should be played for money.  Last week I won seven cents; however, I lost 70 cents.  Good thing I’m not a Vegas gal.  But I made a fortune in hysterical laughter and a downright good time.  We four are amazed at the very idea that we can get together time after time after time, several years now, and laugh our butts off all night long… over a pinochle game.  We are loathe to end the games although we usually do after the third, tie-breaking game; that is, if one pair of partners doesn’t skunk the other pair.  Even then we play three games; sometimes more; until it gets to be the next day and we decide we need to get home.  At least two of us need to get home; the other two get to stay put; their house being the “meet-in-the-middle” house.

There is nothing sacred about partners.  Each time we play, Sandy (aka Carmella Celeste) (a whole other blog) makes out the numbers so we can draw for partners.  Depending on her mood, we might get holiday-related drawings (eggs for Easter) to go with the numbers, or if she’s in a randy mood, she may draw… well, you can imagine.  And each time we play, no matter who are partners, we are “gonna kick your ass.”  I love kicking Sandy’s ass just a week after she and I valiantly tried to kick Babe and Kay’s.

Yep, I love kicking ass.  And I love pinochle.

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