Thursday, August 31, 2006
Posts = 502
For a kid/man-child who hated English class enough to switch teachers in High School so he could get credit for this class by watching Dirty Dancing, Hamlet (with a sober and less anti-Semitic Mel Gibson), and having a take-home final exam which Indiana Jones battles replicants in LA 2019. It was also a great time for a nap considering 1.5 hours of baseball practice before school, then three hours after school, a part-time job at Tar-Zay Boutique and honor classes in Math and Science.
Did I mention my single digit scoring on the English ACT section? I've never cared much for writing or being creative in any form that didn't require throwing a ball or hitting a puck.
I still wonder today why I continue this page and dump my vanilla thoughts about poker, parenting, and people who make your brain die a little from their stupidity. Like the lady who asked a smiling, red polo shirt wearing Target employee at a store yesterday while standing in middle of the "One Spot" (just for those two people who don't shop at Target, everything is a dollar in the One Spot and its clearly marked) for a price check. I walked away shaking my head like the duck in the AFLAC commerical with Yogi Berra getting his hairs snipped. People like that should be locked in a padded cell and have their license to breathe air revoked before they impose their drool cup intelligence upon some 16 year old McDonald's trainee to ask why there's cheese on his cheeseburger causing him to abandon his job and live in his mother's basement for the next twenty years chain smoking Camel filterless and mumbling about the Twins losing two straight to the lowly Royals in the middle of a playoff race.
But this isn't about me, its about pimping a group of gonzo writers who's ability to paint a picture thru words about strippers, country fair workers, and past loves gives a true meaning to the word "writer".
Pauly's Truckin is back with another issue this month. Enjoy!
I'm heading to the cabin again this weekend, but will be up all night tonight to try desparately to keep my money from the PartyPoker O8 idiots while clearing their latest bonus. Lost some big pots last night due to their ignorance towards the four cards in front of them, I'm still searching for the leak but after looking over the hands I can't see playing them any other way. Or maybe I just suck. I'm leaning toward suck.
Enough about poker... on with the show!
Truckin' - August 2006, Vol. 6, Issue 8
1. The Menagerie of Tweakers in Puerile City by Paul McGuire
Las Vegas is a magnet for the absurd and peculiar. I don't know too many places where you can order a Mai Tai at 4am from a bartender named Sully or find a hooker to take a dump on your chest for $300. Sometimes you can find both at the same bar... More
2. Root-Man and the Eleven Foot Rattler by Craig Cunningham
Will Percy, was a local eccentric and legend whose cavernous home was a revolving door of all things my father was not. Writers, gamblers, vagabonds, philosophers, and well-to-do intellectuals came and went like a Greek gypsies... More
3. The Album by Mella
I look at her now, carefully slicing through a long brown onion, still beautiful - despite a toothless smile and soft cheeks that sink in around her lips. Her eyes are the same sparkling green, but lined at the corners with delicate crows feet... More
4. Fairbanks by Dr. Chako
I look up over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of chestnut hair and a leopard tattoo on her right arm. I give her my best one-eyebrow-up look, yet she is already moving down the aisle, perhaps embarrassed by the audible hmmm-ing... More
5. Hangover: A Bukowski Poem by Sigge S. Amdal
A short-haired dog with contractions on its rear part,turns his ass to me and shits a large turd right there on the street.This does not make me hungry... More
6. Salt by Falstaff
I can still taste the salt on your lips –Sun-kissed blonde and sweet, sweet seventeenGraduation week daiquiris, sand surf... More
7. Training Camp, the Cleveland Browns, and My Father by Sean A. Donahue
I remember the games like they were yesterday, 70,000 fans packed into old Cleveland Stadium. What a lousy stadium, falling apart and just pitiful... More
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Then, I came to work and there’s Phil with his chin on an enclosed fist trying to look like a model for Tag Heuer or Rolex. He’s telling me this week on this maddening “Poker Tip of the Day” calendar about his “Top Ten Hands”. Today was his #2 favorite hand, want to ponder a guess?
Here’s a hint: it rhymes with Bling-Bling and Wheaton holds a certain grudge against this “monster” holding.
I cheated and looked ahead on the calendar hoping for some advice on how to play this hand in a cash game with early position on a table full of loose-manic Norwegians and deep stacks. But instead I’ll be viewing Phil’s favorite starting hands for the next month with no such sage advice. I know by now you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the announcement of his seventeenth “almost” Top Ten hand. Put down the Adderall, stop chewing on the pencil you got for five years of service to your company (yes, I got a pencil and pen set), and take a long, deep breath of recycled air because I’m not telling you until September 16th.
Damn, I’m such a bad boy; I think I’ll throw away an aluminum can today without recycling.
Anyone watch the ESPN’s Main Event re-broadcast with the imitations by the pros of different pros? Finally, a little humor infused into this worn production. I could be engrossed with Phil Gordon’s off the hip banter along with excellent poker commentary at any final table for 12 hours (if I had 12 straight hours to watch TV) but these 1 hour “clips” just don’t pack the excitement anymore. It’s not because we all know the outcome (well, not the money award, just pay up Jamie and stop being a flower scented feminine hygiene product encased in a small sac). Yes, they did “mix-it-up” with last night’s telecast with Hachem throwing down some good aggression and bluffs, not relying on all-in coin flip/dominated hand pre-flop showdowns. To Norman Chad’s credit, the ex-wife jokes were kept to a minimum. Well played sir.
Speaking of ex-wives… what was Carlos Mortensen thinking?!?!? That’s one attractive woman taking down Lennox Lewis and his Hoover Dam sized fists. Any one have the scoop on the divorce, I googled and got zilch. Why am I caring? I think I need a gun for my head.
Before I decide to end my life prematurely due to an acute case poker fanboism, I have a question for those attending the Bash next month:
What do I wear?
I am not fashionable as seen today with my beige polo shirt/black dockers/black socks/beige shoes combo. When it comes to “picking an outfit” I dress with the hopes that I’m not offending anyone by looking like, well a poker player. My “wardrobe” consists of many polo shirts, a couple of cheap button downs with stripped patterns, many many t-shirts and shorts, a couple of pairs of jeans, and four pairs of slacks.
I’m thinking t-shirt and jeans since I’m not in the market for hairy pussy, or any pussy for that matter since my marriage obligations state that I cannot have sex anymore with anyone. Boobs are a totally different ballpark that I’d like to be viewing from home plate, so is choosing the right t-shirt along with my garbled MinnesOOOtan accent gonna get me maximum breastal tissue viewage?
Actually I hope to be too busy chatting it up with the blogging crew (while downing some many microbrews and shots of course before succumbing to the floor) to care what I look like. That may sound a little gay (not there’s anything wrong with that) but the stories you pull away from gathering like this are ones you get to replay in your mind when your car breaks down, or you just need a thought to lean back on if the world seems like its going downhill faster then Nicole Ritchie’s “fame”.
It’s been almost a year since the last time we met up, and I miss my invisible internet friends. Can’t wait to see ya’ll.
Thanks for dropping by, now I mentioned yesterday about my distaste about Red Soxs Red Soxs Red Soxs on ESPN lately… what do I get when I turn on the TV at approximately 10:53pm central standard time last evening after my softball games?
A double story on the health of Big Papi and Ramirez (which shouldn’t be mentioned in the same light IMO).
Scott Van Pelt, I have my size 13 steel toed boot waiting for you in Minneapolis.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
(Blogger doesn't seem to want to let pictures come up grrrrrr, click on the highlighted links for the pics)
Hmmmm... what type of bait should we go with here?
Even Homer likes to blog!
Of course the parents needed an incentive to keep the attention of three kids for 12 hour day of looking at farm machinery, 4-H art projects, and whatever polka band was pumping out accordion music at the Leinie Lodge Bandshell. The midway still has many of the same games of chance, rides, and flashing lights as it did when I was a gangly middle school student who tried to be invisible. TOSS A SOFTBALL INTO THE MILKJUG ONLY ONE TICKET WIN THE BIGGEST PRIZE IN ALL OF THE MIDWAY, the barker cried as I’d clutch my sheet of midway tickets, reward for being personable and not shoving my brother into the biggest pig pen (this year the pig’s name was Corn Dog and he weighed 1040 lbs.).
Granted as I strolled down the midway on Friday with my brother-in-law and a friend it didn’t have the same aura of excitement, it felt more like Vegas after you’ve been there several times or on the morning of your cab ride to McCarran airport. The games were still a short burst of excitement; trying to roll a golf ball into different colored holes to win that multicolored frog after making the plastic Seattle Slew beat the remainder of the field. I tossed ping-pong balls into glass dishes that I paid three dollars for, despite the Curious George figurine prize having no real monetary value.
Why? Because it was fun.
There’s no goal to get to the midway when I shuttle by bus down Snelling Ave. from Brookdale any longer. I finally sit back and enjoy the sights and smells of the Great Minnesota Get Together. It’s the little things like rushing to the education building to snag the St. Thomas deep purple bag before they run out or wearing a Gedney pickle hat to make Wyatt laugh. Savoring those delightful 1000% bad-for-you cheese curds that only the fair can make just right despite making them at the rate of a McDonald’s hamburger. Sitting down to listen to P.A. and Dubay discuss the latest Viking soap opera live from the KFAN booth. Watching a demonstration of the world’s greatest window cleaner in action, with a complete home cleansing system to be yours for only $49.95! It may seem repetitive to see the same vendors barking their promises of a perfect omelet, or to eat similar gastric delights on a stick year after year.
Ah.... my babies (that four dozen bucket of cookies was gone by the weekend)
But now that I’m a parent, I’m starting to see the fair thru the eyes of my parents, taking in the little things, enjoying time I get to spend with my wife, Wyatt, and Kyra. Sure in a few years the two spawns will be complaining about sore feet from walking, sore stomachs from trying to finish that last glass of milk from the all-you-can-drink booth, or begging to run down the midway to obtain stuffed animals that will end up in a closet within two days of midway worker announcing to the crowd that you were victorious in order to entice new suckers, er… customers.
With all the midway tickets spent; we passed by the dairy barn to get one more whiff of cow manure, walk past the gentleman with the “Tan-Line Inspector” t-shirt complete with petite Asian hottie in hand, and I’d snag one last malt for the bus ride back to car. I looked back to see a place I’ve been going to for over 25 years yet it seems brand new with each visit.
And I can’t wait to go back next year.
Thanks for dropping by, now if I’m forced to watch one more Sportcenter segment on “the Red Soxs woes” or how Manny Ramirez managed to play an entire inning with a hangnail, I will personally drive out to Bristol and drop kick the entire Baseball Tonight crew into the ocean.
The dude with the Tim Wakefield icon and name on Stars… you wondered why I raised the river in the O8 game despite knowing I was only going to get half the pot?
Now you know.
But I do not carry any ill will towards Big Papi and hope there's nothing seriously wrong. The man is an example of how a superior athlete should act.
Monday, August 28, 2006
I blame laundry, Wyatt's inability to go to bed without having every book from Clifford's Birthday to Tonka Trucks: Construction Zone! and that 6 seat in the Party Poker LO8 game that set me in an uncomfortable place mentally for like two hours.
A long way of saying, I tilted.
Since I'm tapped out physically from this weekend, my ink well is also dry.
Please enjoy the rest of the fine readings today on the right, and I'll be back tomorrow (hopefully) with some pictures of the fair with some commentary about the walks of life I viewed.
Pssst... wanna see hot chicks? Go to a Country music concert.
Good. God. My problem is they were probably 15 going on 22. But, I still looked.
Least I not forget... Sir Rev. Dr. AlCantHang has the following announcement:
I'm copying everybody who I have on the list so far for attending the bash this year. Because of the steep minimum donation and the limited space at the Gavin Smith tourney, a $25 satellite has been setup on Full Tilt Poker for a seat in the game.
The tourney is at 9pm EST on August 31st and listed as "Gavin Charity Tournament". The tournament is password protected (NOTE: password is charitybash) and I will pass that along when I get it but I wanted to give everyone the head's up.
A big thank you goes out to TripJax for setting this up for me.
Hope to see you there next thursday. Pass along the info.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
"I am a very good poker player because _______________ "
a) I've played a lot and have applied knowledge I've retained in books
b) I practice good money management skills and my bankroll has increased every year
c) I watch poker on TV and think those pros are a joke
d) I have won/placed high in tournaments
e) All of the above
f) Fill in with your own answer
I don't consider myself to be a good player, just an overall profitable one. Reading BB's recount of a "very good player" sparked the question of how many people really think they are great poker players because they won that $22 MTT three months ago. Matt Maroon, who is an excellent mid to higher limit player, is struggling at the moment and had a very good statement about poker.
"If you play better than someone in a game of chess, you win. If you lose, it means they played that game better than you did. And afterwards you can even review the game and find out what you did wrong. There's none of that in poker. If you play better than your opponents you might win 55% of the time. And if you lose you might have done nothing wrong."
Poker is gambling not a pure skill game like Chess, but a lot of players are disillusioned with that fact. They think because "I read him/her perfectly" or "I have superior cards preflop" therefore "I deserve to win". Do you tell that to the blackjack dealer when your twenty goes down to a dealer's showing a six and demand he pay you after a six card 21 comes up? This game we play is more of test of your psyche, to see if you can hold on to that knowledge (via books, friends, and playing) while carrying just a 5% advantage session after session over lesser skilled players.
I thought long and hard about quitting while in a five month losing streak earlier this year. Leaving the game with a relatively sizable profit compared to the $200 I started with. But there's something about poker that's like the hidden nicotine wrapped into those cancer sticks or caffeine in coffee that keeps me coming back. Maybe the FDA should have a pop-up box or warning label attached to all cards and websites "Poker May Cause Headaches, Shortness of Temper, and Overinflation of Ego". Maybe its the rush from making a final table, pulling off a decent bluff, or just the chance to compete at something again.
Whatever it is that makes the poker player in you tick, don't lose it, or you could find those 145,289 hands you've played, all those posts you've read on 2+2, and all those notes you took to mean nothing more then a few wasted megs of hard drive space.
Thanks for dropping by, now if you need a reminder that some bloggers are real writers, please go check out Otis' touching tribute to his late grandfather.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
There’s a quietness to the North that you won’t find in many other places. Just sitting at the end of an old, wooden dock with your bare feet dipped into the clear, cool lake makes the stress melt off your body and forget about any issues that seemed pressing just five minutes ago. A loon warbling off to your left, and a panoramic view of tall pines, paints the picture and sounds many people figure they’ll see once all the years of service are put in at their company. Places like Vegas or Disneyworld are an escape from reality; Northern Minnesota is more like turning back the clock a few decades, even if it is just for a weekend.
After my wife parked the car into the garage Monday afternoon, we were back in familiar territory with the driveway that needed to be re-done, the mud room that needed another coat of paint, and the monthly bills that awaited payment from a slender checkbook. But, for three days we were able to kick back and forget about our financial obligations and just drift along like a fishing boat trolling a shoreline for some bass.
Of course there were the usual parenting pleasefortheloveofgodeatyourfoodandstopgettingupattwointhemorningwithashittydiaper-thatsmellslikeadeadfishthatwasleftinahotcarforaweek type issues, but they don’t seem to sting as much when you’re looking down at a golf ball or wrapping a nightcrawler on your hook.
Speaking of golf balls, I may have lost a few this weekend while playing The Wilderness at Fortune Bay. Now, I don’t get to play many upscale courses, so my observations might be a little off since there is really no comparison. I was definitely wow’d by the openness and the challenge of the contours this layout presented. Not to mention the views thanks to a couple of elevated tee boxes and the friendliness of the staff. Normally when you get pair’d up with a random twosome there’s a cringe factor that they’ll either suck so bad that you’ll be begging the golf cart chick to have a fresh drink/beer ready after every hole or their single digit handicaps make you seem like you’re playing like Mr. and Mrs. Havercamp from Caddyshack. Luckily these guys brought their own leggy female companion that probably cost me a few strokes from her form fitting choice in course wear and they matched our good and bad shots making the round even more enjoyable. My brother-in-law Burnsie managed to defeat me on the last hole after my driver succumbed to the Cap’n Cokes and Mich Golden Lights we’ve been drinking.
For the remainder of the weekend, I spent most of it playing with Wyatt in the lake while trying to get him more used to the water. He still has an issue with not being able to touch the bottom, despite wearing a lifejacket or some water wingies. I’ve tried the “just throw-him-in” approach that my dad introduced me to at our cabin.
That didn’t go over too well.
We may try some swimming lessons but he’s a very stubborn kid with a temper at times, but I doubt the 14 year old-5 times Jr. Lifesaver certified kid is going to have the patience needed for this.
Time will tell.
** Obligated Poker Update **
I played some PLO, I got three outered.
There ya go.
Sklansky can’t touch my brevity. My book will be out next year.
Actually, after a rough start, I managed to make back a bit after getting stacked, as my nuts didn’t look so good after I got my money in and leaving my opponent only three outs, dem the breaks. Winning a peep sex tourney at Full Tilt softened the $200 lost because winning a token is much more important.
Yeah, that’s how I’ll justify it :)
Thanks for dropping by, now could someone please curse White Soxs? The Red Soxs have done their impression of the Titanic already by losing to the best team ever bought last weekend. Sorry, baseball is a game played by nine players and Big Papi’s bat will only save them from an embarrassing finish.
Maybe the White Soxs could mimic the Edmund Fitzgerald or the S.S. Minnow?
Monday, August 21, 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
JonBenet's family can finally start the healing process.
Geek can't find his video game for the XBox 360, *levels a surburban town with a Photon Cannon because he has to wait till Monday to buy it.
* this is foreshadowing and may or may not happen
As reported yesterday, Koren Robinson is a douchebag drunk who decides to go all Tony Stewart with the Mankato police. I wonder what his BAC at the next trial will be. I'll set the pre-hearing over/under at .12 maybe a couple of professionals need to speak with him about being a proper drinker.
I'm heading out of town once again, except we're taking the clan close to the Canadian border this time. Ely, Minnesota as I once described as "utopia wrapped in flannel" will feature me lounging on a semi-private lake, playing card games like "buck em", euchre, cribbage and maybe swatting a few golf balls on Fortune Bay's new golf course which is one of the best in Minnesota.
Have a great weekend, and good luck at the tables and in bed!
Edit: From Easycure... this is too funny
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Story from Launchpoker.com
At least they had the foresight to make sure there was equal amount of men and women, can't imagine the sausage party would be much fun. Will the dealers be strippers like some Dallas-based tourneys are?
Last night raised parenting pop quiz question #4,389:
You're bring your toddler to a three-day, two hours a time, vacation bible school to learn to play along with other kids that are a little bit older then him (unfortunately he's the only three year old, and the kids went all the way up to ten). Also, to learn a little bit about taking directions from other adults.
Your toddler is excited about going to the "special class" because you read the information off the brochure and made it sound like he was going to the Las Vegas of churches complete with ultra lounges and world famous day spas. He snarfs down his chicken strips and peaches with the speed of Takeru Kobayashi and we're off to the little church a couple of blocks from our house.
You arrive at the church and suddenly he's skeptical and doesn't want to go. The fear of not having his parents with with him during crafts time is kicking in. Attempts to unbuckle his safety seat are met with resistance and pleas to return home to play there.
Being ever the slick salesman/woman you manage to get the child out of the seat without injury to either of you but once inside the church he curls up into a protective, parental ball. If the smiling teen in the lacey yellow outfit approaches, he hides behind your leg clutching for her to just go away. Many other adults approach and attempt to pry him into the activities which have started but like the North and South ends of a magnet he snaps right back onto your leg.
You know once he starts an activity he'll be fine; how do you get him started without him imitating a velcro strip to your leg?
It took us 20 minutes last night, and of course when he got home he all giggly and chatting about the activities they did and proudly displayed the cupcake (called a cinnamon roll because he calls any kind of desert roll a cinnamon roll) that he made with the crafts from the "treasure hunt" they participated in.
I'd rather not go through the same thing tonight. Even if you don't have kids, drop me a reply.
Any advice is welcome.
Thanks for dropping by, now whoever bumped this item out of my reach, I hope you enjoy it. Grrrrrrrrrr.
Edit: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU LUSH! I think God has it in for the Vikes this year, especially after the one and out turned in by our 1st round draft pick.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
So, what is a semi-surf savvy guy to do? Hit up Ted Steven’s tubes and find out what others say.
Apparently, I’m having self-esteem issues or I’m not measuring up. Of course chatting with Bobby and his anaconda-sized junk probably doesn’t help.
Self-esteem? I haven’t always been the most confident guy in the world, hell even in the gaming world I was just happy to be included in a group despite being one of the better players. Softball is the same, when asked to play on a team; I’m truly honored no matter the skill level of the team. Maybe I’m just humble given my disabilities.
Is it a sign that I need to take the plunge of playing for higher stakes? Or should I just stop whining, put a stitch in my gash, and enjoy being happy as I have been for several months now?
Yeah. Gash. Stitch. Sew it up. Have a beer. Watch some midget porn.
Thanks for dropping by, now Otis had a post yesterday that really made me realize how lucky we all are to have friends and the ability to make friends (warning, the post contains a cute kid pic and a hottie wife picture). As I’ve stated in the past, despite it being just a card game and that blogs are gay, reaching out to invisible internets people like you have revived not only my marriage, but me. Funny how that works, people that you can’t even see, having an impact on how your day flows. Never would have crossed my mind two years ago. It still boggles my mind today.
Speaking of mind-trips: How is John Madden is still allowed to announce despite the inability to know if the team on the field has the bases loaded with two outs, is lining up a corner kick, or if the serve was in or out. Please just work on the video game and take Joe Buck and Joe Morgan with you.
I don’t need to list names nor can I verse my feelings properly like many others that I read on a daily basis, but thank you all and remember its only 39 days till the Bash and your chance to see a lanky MinnesOOOtan get his drink on and probably receive a few demerits for public intoxication.
Just don’t let me dance or attempt to beat StB in the Good n’ Plenty championships.
Those are my only requests. And I'm done rambling for the day. Later.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Now that softball season is starting to fade into the rear-view mirror, poker is coming back onto my laptop as the choice of evening and sometimes afternoon entertainment. Instead of pulling up two or three dollah tourneys, I have adventured back to the cash games for relatively significant money. It has been awhile since I’ve checked out the $100 PLO8/NLHE and $2/$4 LO8 tables for more then trading a few blinds, and after shaking off some Similac-coated rust I managed to hold my own and not look entirely Spicoli-like stupid.
Omaha can be a funny game however, you could be sitting with the second nut full house and lose to the nut full house one hand (happened to me twice, paid him off because of previous hands), and turn around and watch someone rake a huge pot with bottom two pair after you throw away the winning hand. The first reaction is to curse the poker gods, throw your cat, and maybe launch a few expletives across the room that you hope your spawns did not retain for future use. Second sucks, it’s the first loser, and since this isn’t a tourney you get nothing but a sore pair of balls and possibly a hurt ego if you actually think you’re good enough to win at this game.
But why take it personally? They were just cards that didn’t fall in your favor. Find some good out of it by saying “hey, I lost the minimum I could have” (I didn’t, but that’s why I’m still learning and grinding out small wins at this level). Unfortunately, this re-found zeal for poker will curb my foray into the Wide World of Bingo. My sparkling silver dabber now sits on the oak armoire next to the Winnie the Pooh honey pot (with a limited edition Tigger watch inside) that I bought for my girlfriend nearly 10 years ago. Ugh, she’s put up with me for 10 years?!?!?
At least she’s not this chick. Steven, who ever you are, I’m sure if she paid enough for the billboard, and has enough hatred to fill every strip club in Vegas, her “proof” will be on the internet if it isn’t already. You might consider moving soon with your mini-sized wee-wee in tow.
This weekend I met up with some folks who are not currently having their names splashed across Minnesota’s roadways. My dad’s side of the family gets together for a golf outing/cabin indulgence once a year (even after meeting up in Charleston earlier this year). Eagle Trace in Clearwater was the site of my brilliant golf game that made Tiger Woods check his ESPN mobile every two minutes for updates. The gods of sod and sand blessed me with elegant drives, soft wedges, and a Cap’n Coke that could have doubled as golf cart fuel. I like em strong, but least tell me you forgot to add the Coke before I take a sip. Amateurs like me are not used to straight shots at 7am. With aiming fluid trickling down my insides, I managed a round of 85 on this shot-maker course (I average between a 95 and 100 normally). Its not a long 18 holes but it is very easy to lose a ball or four into the trees and several tight tee shots.
Bolstered with victory at the golf course (and six dollars per golfer richer), we headed to my uncle’s cabin that was only three miles from the course. It’s a beautiful log cabin on a semi-private lake with a yard size that could fit about twenty houses from Toyko on it.
Cookies, rice kripsy bars, sandwiches from Subway, chips, and this cheese-sour cream-oh-my-god-I-need-more dip from my ailing grandmother filled the golfers up properly before our annual horseshoe pitching tourney. In the 12 years that we’ve been getting together I have yet to win. I tried to blame the ‘shoes, the sun, the mosquitoes, angle of the dangle, but still can’t win because my uncles and dad used to spend more then a couple hours throwing these pieces of bent metal up at the old family cabin.
My team came in second.
Prize money won: $0
Yep, I caught the second nut full house again. Giddy-up.
Thanks for dropping by, now head over to Mr. Bracelet’s site to view the newest “package” up for auction. This big “unit” of the For Peyton silent auction is sure to get plenty of “rising” from the ladies bidding on the items.
I’m on blogger time out for the above paragraph, let me out soon please.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Had the kids all strapped in, fed, de-pooped, toys in hand, and carrying cases in the car. But, we get to the St. Vincent's church "carnival" and it looked more like a fund raiser for Sister Marie's new Lark with optional basket and Dukes of Hazard-theme horn, rather then a place to bring the kids for a little over-priced fun.
It least God didn't smite me on the virtual felts as I managed to pull a little coin from various sites while dabbling in small cash games. I still haven't gotten the balls/nerves/yang/de-pussified feeling from my "game" to start playing the levels I used to play prior to the arrival of spawn #2.
Call it a hitch, call it listening to a good friend, but when do I get back to the $100 and $200 games again?
Maybe the answer will come after softball season and I have more then a couple hours during the week to bounce pixelized chips off the foreheads of people I can't see.
Have a good weekend folks.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
I think I need help. This is worse then slots.
They say that the 3rd time is a charm.
I don't know who "they" are, but they could be on to something. Bobby Bracelet and his merry band of Do-Gooders, has struck again. I tell ya, if I was a girl, I'd be all over Mr. Bracelet. The dude has everything going for him. He's like a living breathing example of what the word Perfect means.
Plus the size of his heart is only exceeded by the size of his Thrice Confirmed Huge Junk. Hear that ladies?
Anyhow, the 3rd edition of his Auction For Peyton is up!
Now hustle yourself over to ebay and find yourself something to bid on.
Antonio Esfandiari Photo
Michael Gracz Photo
Erick Lindgren Photo
T.J. Cloutier Photo
Carlos Mortensen Photo
Daniel Negreanu Photo
David Williams Photo
Layne Flack Jersey and Photo (Author's note: Bid on this and you will suffer a shot to the nuts with a ball-peen hammer) Happy bidding!
Kenna James Cowboy Hat
Card Player Package
Hellmuth DVD Package
Plus, there is rumors that Bobby is going to put together a special package toadd to the auction within the next day or two. He hasn't told me what it is,but expect it to kick ass if he does it. Because that's how he rolls.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
People like to discuss women. Is it testament as to how much those with bOObs confuzzle the male species on a daily basis? I bet that topic would spark an all-night girlie chat box discussion or maybe in between shots at the Bash next month.
What shall we tackle today…
Near future gas prices rising due to the Alaskan pipeline fix?
Lindsay Lohan starting to look skinny again from partying too much?
Lack of sex after your new wife eats the wedding cake?
Cold Fusion, could it revive Elizabeth Shue’s career and provide a clean energy source at the same time?
Will Allen Cunningham take it down at the WSOP and overcome the mountain of chips that is Jamie Gold? (I hope so, since I’ll get a WSOP ME seat freeroll if he does, that and Allen deserves more recognition then he currently gets).
Do you ever stare at the pictures in your cubical and drift off wishing you were there (I have one from a WPBT event and one with the wife)?
How long is a Kit-Kat good for that’s been sitting in your drawer (on a tangent is a Three Cheese Rotini "Bowl Appetit" from Betty Crocker with an expiration date of November 13th, 2004 probably not good)?
Stripper or Erotic Massage (happy ending done by both of course)?
Ok, that’s what I get for trying to divert the pain currently curdling in my right leg. Did anyone ever warn you that siding on a dry baseball field without pants might cause a burning sensation worse than the day after that Motel 6 date with the chick you picked up after a five bar long bar crawl? I’m currently wearing a Kotex maxi pad sized gauze to absorb anymore blood and assorted bodily fluids that may expel from my leg due to the single IQ decision to slide into second base last night.
At least I was safe, and put the tying run on second with one out and two fairly good batters behind me in the bottom of the 7th (and last) inning… but both crapped out, including a guy striking out for the last out of the game and nearly breaking my $250 bat in two. If I hadn’t sucked so bad at the beginning of the game it probably wouldn’t have gotten to that point.
Walk people? Definitely.
Hit a can of corn with people on base? I’m an easy out (except I did manage to hit a home run late in the game to tie it up).
Cut people off because you think they can’t catch but usually they pull through? Guilty.
Basically I dug myself the hole of pain I’m now feeling and will feel for the next week or so while my body mends itself with the help of various ointments and Powerpuff Girls band-aids.
I could analogize poker into this post but I won’t since I need to be actively playing to feel like printing out sage advice that people with a half-brain of common sense could figure out for themselves.
One co-ed softball season in the books, men's league finishes next week despite having the league wrapped up (free t-shirts whoo whoo!!) and now I found out I’m on the hook for another four weeks when fall ball starts up. Don’t get me wrong I love to play, just not when I’m getting only a few hours of sleep during the week and can’t partake in some degenerate virtual card slinging. At least I can relax on IRC when I am home to read about Helixx finding a Star Trek-theme’d porn chat room which is much more interesting then discussing another lost coin flip or perceived “bad beat”. Wil might want to make sure he has an empty stomach should the former Star Trek actor decide to peak into that twisted world.
Another discussion from last night… why do people continue to play triple draw with Chris Fargis, do they not like money? If you want a clinic on the game, pull up UltimateBet and the 300/600 game to watch. Amazing stuff.
Thank god we can all discuss something besides poker, and I have no doubts about that after yesterday. Granted 6 or 7 of those comments are mine, the originality of the responses rocked.
I tip my Sprite can colored Styx Sportswear (proud sponsor of the 2006 Brooklyn Park league doubleheader Gold men's division champs) cap to you all.
Thanks for dropping by, now if you’re not ponying up the $24.95 or don’t have satellite be sure you are spamming the refresh button for the real media coverage of tomorrow's final table at the WSOP main event. If you feel “real” coverage is some cut-and-paste job at ESPN, you’re probably not reading this.
Turn to these fine bloggers for the blow by blow excitement (list from Iggy).
Otis, CJ, and Wil at PokerStarsBlog
Tao of Poker
Jason at Bluff Radio
CC over at Linda's Table Tango
Amy Calistri and Jen Leo at Breakfast Club Poker
Dan M., April, Change100, Johnny K. at Pokerblog.com
Poker Prof @ Las Vegas Vegas
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Why do women insist on giving hints as to what they want done, versus just coming out and saying it?
Just like there's a glutton of books on how to play AK suited in early position, I'm sure I could read one about this phenomenom but would rather get real answers from smart asses like you.
Its much more entertaining.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Why such a short trip you may ask?
A certain 2 years 363 day old human male decided he was emotionally unfit to attend the five dollar an hour per kid “day care” at the casino after we had planned a little gambling and a nice dinner for our anniversary. After signing off the 15 page waiver/bio “this is my kid and this is want he/she wants” stuff for the KidQuest inside the casino, me and the wife set off to play the penny slots for a bit until it was time to hit up the nice restaurant for an “adult” meal that didn’t include stopping to make a bottle or tell the boy to stop yanking the blue haired lady’s wig off.
Unlike The “A” Team, our plan did not come together as we played for maybe three or four minutes and a distress signal over the intercom beckoned my wife to pick up the soon-to-be-punished blue eyed child. Yes, apparently the “day care” doesn’t accept “crying children”, only those who “want” to be there are allowed to stay. Now, I’m not Dr. Spock, nor do I lay claim to having insider knowledge of a day care BUT… don’t most kids cry a little bit after their parents leave them for a just a little bit until you find them something to play with and everything is cheeky-happy afterwards? Not only were we forced away from our “adult” evening we had to pay for the five minutes the kids “stayed” (imagine me going just a little nuts with the air quotes) at the KidsQuest. Yes, for the bargain price of $120/hour we got top-notch child care. Granted my wife paid the $10 without fuss because I’m sure her head was two whines from exploding. Nevermind that it took longer to fill out the little forms, get Wyatt to put on some socks, and have him run inside, we got charged for the pleasure of them not even trying to help him have fun.
The rest of the weekend went a tad smoother as my parents graciously offer less expensive day care for the evening and we were able to have that dinner with a cocktail. I may catch some flak for this, but I have to admit I got buzzed on one drink. It wasn’t lack of food or getting spiked with a couple shots of Everclear, but for some reason after I downed the one liter of long island iced tea, I was feeling it. Can’t you tell I’m in prime shape for the Bash, set the over/under at 6:45p.m. Saturday night for me to be mumbling about loons, ninjas, and why people at Linens and Things amuse me.
After the dinner I was easily persuadable and my wife took advantage of me (not in THAT way, sadly). We went to Linens and Things to check out a nice reclining chair for the new deck and for what should have taken two minutes got dragged out to twenty. Is it really that tough to put a little pricing note in the vicinity of the merchandise so the possible consumer can make a fiscal decision to purchase the aforementioned item? After roaming the store and gazing at the Sharper Image-lite type wares I found exactly zero people wearing the bright red smocks eager to answer my pressing question, then again I was a little buzzed because of my lightweight liver and I could have walked right passed them. So, we waited for the one cashier and only visible employee to assist us. We won’t mention her hotness or thank her for bending down to pear at the chair through the window outside to try to look for the price tag that we already mentioned didn’t exist. I didn’t look, much.
After hauling the chair inside the store to scan, we had to wait again while someone jump ahead of us to purchased one of the five billion Sudoku items (I admit to liking the puzzles too, just not while I’m heading towards drunkville and would like to get home as soon as and possibly get laid for the first time in six months) shown right in front of the register. After Sudoku lady left, the miniature version of Rebecca Gayheart informed us that the chair was four times the amount my wife appraised it at, and she would not consider coming over for a lap dance, so we left.
Wyatt’s birthday party went off a little smoother then our attempt at romance as all my friends and their kids were able to come over Sunday night to his “Cars” themed party. A question for future parties… is there ANY way of not having the other kids get jealous of the birthday boy/girl receiving gifts and restraining them from crying about not being able to play with them? I could do without the whining and fighting thankyouverymuch. My generous friends brought some very cool gifts, including this pop up whiffle ball machine which of course we had hauled outside to test our skillz immediately. Besides the usual “I had this first” fights between the kids it was a great time, and once again my wife pulled-off the logistics of something I’d have no clue on where to start.
I’m a lucky guy and have been for six years.
Proof of my luck was found at the poker tables as well this weekend, as I managed to win a mini-Step 2 tourney at PartyPoker and move on to the Step 3 ($50+$5). After playing these for over six months and being stuck at the Step 1, I’d call this an accomplishment and post worthy because I haven’t been able to play much and my poker stories are between slim and none at the moment. By the time I hit Step 28 I’m sure I’ll finally receive the fruits of this laborious hamster wheel. Speaking of PartyPoker, I’m sure everyone already downloaded it and starting playing immediately, in case you didn’t…
That’s right bitches, PartyBingo baby (ugh, what's up with no pics?!?!). A few observations on last night’s foray into the land of daubers, VFW pros, and 2 inch un-ashed Marlboro 100s.
- People actually think they’re going to win (much like that doofus who plays any two sOOted at your $.50/$1 limit hold em table)
- Bingo is exciting! Ok, I admit when I got down to having one ball left and a $200+ prize after paying a dime a card it got me screaming for B3.
- Three drink minimum if you want to keep your dignity
But after throwing ten bucks into the PartyGaming coffers after not winning, I decided I’ll need some research material as there are much better players out there then me or maybe I’ll step down the nickel rooms before taking on these high-rollers again.
Thanks for dropping by, now an inside joke/note to Bobby Bracelet this morning… there’s a tattoo of “Louisville Slugger” across my forehead this morning. I blame you. That is all.
Oh, and to beer drinkers out there… I had an excellent micro brew called Summit Hefe-Weizen at Applebee’s this weekend. It had the smoothness of a Blue Moon, but the little distinctive bitter at the end, that most Summit’s have, made this a very enjoyable beer. Not sure how it would taste from a bottle but the tap version made me a future customer.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Cabin time for me so I'll be way behind on the WSOP updates. Make sure you're helping to keep our fearless bloggers sane. Have a good weekend folks!!
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Marvel at my ability to only take 45 minutes to get Wyatt asleep (that's sarcasm folks)
Kiss wife good night, stare at her ass when she exits the room
Think unpure thoughts
Log into computer Helllllllllllllllllllo Shana Hiatt Wallpaper!!!
Try to psyche self up to deposit enough into a site to play my regular $100 or $200 PLO8 or NLHE cash games
Realize the time, pat self on the back for not starting to play
Log on to three different poker sites to see if there's any money left
Look at tomorrow's lines for the baseball games
IM Speaker before betting on the A's to see if he's watching the game
Railbird random blogger tournament that started before I could log on
Log into IRC #WPBT
Read most recent bad beat story by Helixx
Wish I was in Vegas with these fine folks
Hop into a low limit game with bloggers
Remember why I enjoy poker once again
Win or lose the equivilent of a pack of Juicy Fruit
Think about purchasing Juicy Fruit at work to celebrate crushing the penny tables for 15BBs
Play in micro limit tourney
Curse to self about not winning a coin flip
Railbird the high stakes game at Full Tilt
Marvel at the total disregard Matusow has for money
Ask Bobby for porn searching tips
Watch the ending of some 90's movie that I've seen 15 times
Wow, Denzel is sexy!
Look at clock, curse self again for staying up
Say goodbyes, log off
Listen to wife snore
Stare at glow-in-the-dark star stickers left by the previous owner
Drift into a deep sleep hoping there will be no two a.m. wake up call by Kyra (and she's been sleeping thru the night lately YEAAAAA!)
Once softball is finished for the year, I'll get back on the saddle about playing "seriously" and be able to post a little more pokery content. But until then you'll have to put up with the arguementive regurgitation that flies out of my mouth into the cyberspace.
Thanks for dropping by, now if anyone has some tips for getting a toddler to bed without causing a level 24 migraine headache. I'm all ears, well whatever is left of my hearing at least.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
To be honest, lots of things confuse me, such as the wardrobe selections of our waitress last night. She did have a nice figure, curves in the right places, which was complimented by a easy-going smile. But this wasn't Hooters or any Las Vegas casino. And it wasn't that I minded her placing her ample cleavage within a nose length several times by reaching over the table to refill my macro-brew emptied glass. But, if it was an attempt to acquire a few extra nickels onto her tip...
It worked. I'm such a sucker for bOObs.
Now I may be WAY off base here and it certainly wouldn't be the first time, and I'm sure despite the very personalized email I'm not the only one who received this seemingly hypocritical message from eBay:
Dear hrking275 (actually I like to captialize the h-r-k because its cool like that but I'll let it slide),
As you know, I almost never reach out to you personally with a request to get involved in a debate in the U.S. Congress.
The key word is personal, I'm sure the CEO of a major corporation cares about my stance in political matters... when it effects them
However, today I feel I must.
This sounds important, let me get the popcorn, and watch The Daily Show so I'm up to speed on the latest Government type stuff since I barely know the difference between a Republican and a Democrat
Right now, the telephone and cable companies in control of Internet access are trying to use their enormous political muscle to dramatically change the Internet. It might be hard to believe, but lawmakers in Washington are seriously debating whether consumers should be free to use the Internet as they want in the future.
Yeah, unlike your stance right here, eh Meg? Oh, and this gem of a letter as well.
Join me by clicking here -- http://click2.ebay.com/ -- to send a message to your representatives in Congress.
I'll stick with the Poker Players Alliance for contacting the government on this type of issue thankyouverymuch.
The phone and cable companies now control more than 95% of all Internet access. These large corporations are spending millions of dollars to promote legislation that would allow them to divide the Internet into a two-tiered system.
The top tier would be a "Pay-to-Play" high-speed toll-road restricted to only the largest companies that can afford to pay high fees for preferential access to the Net.
I already pay a decent chunk of change to view Jenna Jamison's latest "hits" over the information super-highway and they want MORE money? Is the price of internets going up because of the war in Iraq?
The bottom tier -- the slow lane -- would be what is left for everyone else. If the fast lane is the information "super-highway," the slow lane will operate more like a dirt road.
Slower service? I doubt this would be legal since wouldn't this be the equivilent of buying a Porsche and having the dealer come out after two years to rip out the engine and replace it with a Yugo's? I might be wrong here in my comprehension of the statement, again wouldn't be the first time.
Today's Internet is an incredible open marketplace for goods, services, information and ideas. We can't give that up. A two-lane system will restrict innovation because start-ups and small companies -- the companies that can't afford the high fees -- will be unable to succeed, and we'll lose out on the jobs, creativity and inspiration that come with them.
Two-lanes? What happened to the series of tubes?
The power belongs with Internet users, not the big phone and cable companies. Let's use that power to send as many messages as possible to our elected officials in Washington. Please join me by (Link Removed) right now to send a message to your representatives in Congress before it is too late. You can make the difference.
Been there, tried that. If I wanted one-sided chain letters from polticial types I'd open up an email from CEOs. Oh wait...
Thank you for reading this note.
I do my best.
I hope you'll make your voice heard today.
I sang in the shower this morning, does that count?
President and CEO
Ugh. I'm turning into a bitchy old man, I blame this pinched nerve in my neck that makes me feel like I'm wearing a veterinarian-approve itch cone because turning incorrectly induces a shock similar to finding out that Lance Bass was gay.
Ok, maybe not that shocking.
Or maybe its because my lack of poker play lately has been building up like that five pound porterhouse you ate last night. Playing a freeroll for two hours knowing you can't stay up to finish it just doesn't cut it. Maybe tonight's the night. Then again I thought Sunday was the night but I got a speech about her not knowing if the birth control pills have kicked in yet. Offers of condoms and evasive firehose tactics were shot down.
At least some kind bloggers have been providing eye candy from the WSOP. My peppermint lotion thanks you.
Thanks for dropping by, now raise your hand if you got that eBay email and if you have any thoughts on it leave a message. I'd like to know if I'm just reading it wrong or if they are really being hypocritical with their "don't censor the internet" message. Similar but not the same perhaps?
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I still desire the chance to play or hell even bounce around as a greenhorn blogger for a week. Last year just walking into the massive Rio to view Event #2 was breathtaking for this small-time poker fanboi. Its not the players I’m in awe about, it’s the event itself and what it represents, not who is currently tarring its image with bad dealer relations and using cards better suited for a quarter poker game up at my cabin in Northern Minnesota on a humid evening. Granted there were improvements made or at least attempted over last year’s first attempt to capture Benny’s vision of a grandiose poker tournament for all to enjoy.
But, I’ll leave those opinions of the “improvements” to those who are actually walking the floor, taking diligent notes, sweating the players, and hitting quads while hanging out at the hooker bar. A third hand observation of how Harrah’s could improve on the customer service (players ARE paying a steep fee, thus ARE paying customers) at the WSOP is no better then these spout out-of-any-orifice “Online Gambling ruins lives” articles that have been popping up lately because of the recent House bill passing. I thought sports fans were horrible about “jumping on the wagon”, it seems that a profession like journalism should be able to remain impartial or at least present both sides of the argument and not overstate such sage advice like “click the mouse, lose your house”. I clicked my mouse last night and lost $10 to BobbyBracelet because Twins waited until the 8th inning of the third game in the series to cash in all of their luckbox plays. Of course they had no problem in taking out their frustrations on the Rangers last night.
I know your suggestions may fall on deaf ears since the WSOP is now owned by super-mega-galactical corp, instead of a gent with a Stetson and a Colt. Granted, I doubt Binion would be able to cater to the 8,500+ players like he did years ago. But, with all of the disposable assets that Harrah’s has to give those players, the luster of this tournament it seems as though they’re falling short of the mark. Somewhere there’s a bridge between Benny’s hospitality and Harrah’s corporate muscle that could bring the players the experience that I have in my dreams as a player.
It may seem far fetched but I believe the bloggers who are covering the tourney (not just its glossy highlights) can be an open suggestion box while not deterring from what makes them such fun reading on a daily basis. Simply forming opinions and writing about the going-ons of the event in their voice (not some journalistic textbook) will hopefully hit the ears necessary to bring a change before its too late.
Although it may not seem like it, you ARE appreciated guys. Keep up the great work.
I was going to write up the remainder of my guy’s weekend but after this little poker-ish rant I’m out of English words to type for the day. Softball was just a tad draining last night despite the kindness of the clouds dropping the temperature from 100 to about 85 in five minutes flat towards the end of the second game.
Thanks for dropping by, now please welcome my newest sponsor Launchpoker.com!
And for whatever reasons I did not include one Jason “Spaceman” Kirk reporting for Bluff that has been broadcasting live from the WSOP thru Sirius channel 125. Pimping is hard stuff when there are so many choices!