How I Beat Bobby Fischer At His Own Game… And Other Confessions Of Note

Oh, oh have I got big confessions for you guys!

Now a lot of these humongous (but slightly exaggerated) confessions of mine are actually genuine admissions of truth—otherwise I’d have to be a downright liar.

That means, you can count on these revelations to be absolutely plausible—if not destined to soon be found on the cover of a grocery store tabloid.

For example: bet you didn’t know that chess-master Bobby Fischer’s REAL GAME was actually checkers?

I ran into Bobby (total strangers, and even friends, were allowed to call him by his first name) sitting at this table in a little shop in Raykjvak.

He was dressed in multiple layers of yak fur and an earmuff cap challenging all comers to a game of checkers.

I accepted his challenge and proceeded to checkmate his kings 42 consecutive times!

That’s when Bobby asked me if I’d rather play chess, instead?

I replied, “Why would I wanna do that when I just proved I can checkmate your kings in checkers?”

I heard later Bobby had started challenging horses to tiddlywinks. Probably felt that would be a more successful venture.

Apparently it wasn’t.


Then there was the time I was asked by Richard Nixon if I wouldn’t be interested in becoming his running mate?

He was right… I wasn’t interested.

Hey… I discovered the true definition of… covfefe!


Remember the most interesting man in the world? He found me equally interesting as well—that revelation came to him during a chat we had over several cases of Dos Equis.

I confess that I was once the lead singer for the Spice Girls, but then I had this unexpected bout with puberty and had to give up singing… except for when I’m in the shower—and my wife is still trying to get me to give that up!

Oh… here’s something I bet you didn’t know… I’M BATMAN, but I can’t show you the Bat Cave. It’s in a secret location—I accidentally broke my GPS.

I’m also close friends with a guy in the witness protection program. His name is John Smith, I know this because it says that on his drivers license. It has his picture on it and everything, so its just gotta be true!

Did you know that I was once invited to The White House for dinner? It was the house on the corner just down the street. Was, because after that dinner the occupants vanished—house and all! Real paranormal stuff!

Bet you don’t know Marvin like I know Marvin? In fact, I don’t think Marvin knows that I know Marvin like I do. That’s what identity theft can do for you. I really gotta get around to returning Marvin’s mailbox key to him someday.

Okay, now here’s a real big confession. My wife, she actually thinks she’s the boss around here—ha, ha, ha, ha—but I don’t have the heart (or the courage) to tell her that it’s really me.

Uh, maybe we better keep that little confession just between us. You never know WHO might be reading this stuff.


20 comments on “How I Beat Bobby Fischer At His Own Game… And Other Confessions Of Note

    • Scott, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked this question—largely due to having poor recall—but to which I’m sure Star Wars fans everywhere (with perhaps the exception of James Earl Jones) would love an answer. Naturally, this is something that needs to be done delicately, though, as Luke once before had this news delivered to him (by what I like to call, his step-father) and unfortunately it cost him an arm. Seeing as I’m his real father, I’d like to put off telling him this more recent news as long as possible, as it could cost him a leg too—and because Disney could still offer me a contract to appear in one of their numerous planned sequels, and has yet to do so. Of course, I’d equally welcome the chance to walk in one of the Disney theme parks and look menacing while signing autographs too. But I should take this one step at a time because I remember his step-dad lost an arm out of revenge during that first go round, and I’d like to put that eventual result off as long as possible. 😀

    • Thanks, Peggy, I appreciate that. I know they say confession is good for the soul, but they never said anything about frying pans and one’s head. For some odd reason, whenever I share secrets about my wife in one of my posts, she always seems to find out and my baseball cap stops fitting until the swelling goes down. I just can’t explain how she finds these things out! Have a great weekend, Peggy. 😀

  1. Thanks for revealing such private insights, Pau! It is very appreciated… most of all the last one. Good for her, she doesn’t know that the boss is not courageous enough for being the boss… 😂

    • Being of weak mind—due to numerous lumps on my head from previous secrets somehow being revealed to my wife—if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were giving be a back-handed compliment, Erika. Of course, I know you’d never do anything like that, as you are probably more than aware that I’m loaded with gallons of false courage, instead. (Hiccup!) But for some strange reason, I can’t help but think that my wife just got the compliment for my secret. Have a fabulous weekend, Erika. 😀

  2. You must be a latter-day Batman, because the original TV Batman, Adam West, just died yesterday. I hope your cave is a lot roomier than Adam’s — his is only six feet deep. 😦

    • Adam was the best, no doubt about it, but I really do have an original Batmobile lying around here somewhere. Maybe it’s in my Man Cave That’s it, it’s in the MAN CAVE! Uh… or my garage. RIP Adam—TO THE BAT POLES!

  3. HOLY Smokes, Bat man! So you got a cape and everything? If not, then you’re not a true caped crusader and that would just be sad.

    BTW: Hi. It’s me. You know me. It’s been about a year. But it’s me and no one else, I promise.

    • Thank god, I’d hate to think you were someone else—you know, like Sybil or some other split personality. So glad to see you, Sandi! I hope you and your family are all well and doing fine. Very happy to see ya! :O)

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