Backgammon

I can tell backgammon is a classy game because it often comes in a little briefcase, which is more than I can say for games of chance like chess. Sometimes I imagine commuting to work carrying my backgammon briefcase—who’s going to stop me? I have important business to attend to. It’s called playing backgammon. Backgammon should come with those handcuffs you sometimes see douchebags at the airport attach to their briefcases. If somebody stole my backgammon briefcase, I have no idea how I’d ever recover that data.

If I ever needed to deliver a briefcase full of cash to somebody, you can probably guess which kind of case I’d secretly bring along. I’d slowly turn the briefcase toward the druglord or whomever, and his eyes would begin to light up in anticipation of the cash. Then I’d pop open the case, and boom—backgammon. I’d be lost in hysterics as they proceeded to shoot me in the face, but what the hell were they expecting? I don’t have that kind of cash. My laughter nerves would probably still be activated for two or three minutes after they shot me, like how mammals’ limbs sometimes twitch after death. I’d just be lying there dead, laughing my ass off.

8 thoughts on “Backgammon

  1. I wonder what it would be like to substitute the betting cube for dice in other games. Monopoly would be interesting with the ability to roll a 128.

  2. Haha, I love Backgammon… the druglord would probably play you for the money rather than kill you anyways =-D

  3. You know what I hate? Finding out that there’s a blog by a person with a similar attitude to mine that I never knew about until eight or nine years into it. Dammit. Well, I guess it’s suicide again for me.

  4. Haha, I’ve always wanted to learn how to play backgammon. I remember having a briefcase set when I was young, and I will not deny carrying it around, pretending to be a businessman at the age of 5.

  5. Yes! Backgammon totally holds itself as aces over other games. You hit it right on the nose. It has this “I’m in a *briefcase*, THAT’S how much of a better game I am” attitude. And what’s worse are the people who play it. Sipping their fancy scotch while jumping their game pieces across that always vintage chic felt board… Makes me think of my mother.

  6. I am still alive, and I am laughing my ass off! Keep up the good work, and maybe one day you can carry stuff around in the four-cupped plastic tray that the Memory game comes in. Sweet!

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