Final two tables of the Skillz game. Only the fourth time in the points in 20 tourneys (3 of them non-hold em').
Final table bubble of the Bodonkey (hopefully getting enough points to sit comfortably above the 18 player mark for the WSOP freeroll).
And finally a double cash in the Full Tilt daily double for the first time.
Not great results but ones that will get me to fire up the computer at night.
Since we're on a poker roll this morning, Mrs. Otis put a shout-out to all of us blogging degenerates to link up her favorite professional pai gow master as he navigates through the multitude of Scandi names and $50 cheeseburgers while covering the EPT Monte Carlo Grand Finale. I personally like the video live coverage but am always quick to refresh the pokerstarsblog for Otis-styled updates on the floor that a camera can't capture. Looks like Antonio Esfandiari is the one being chased at the beginning of day 4.
A story if you've checked out Monte Carlo and await the Coke Lite swilling reporter's next post:
Granted 99% of you reading this have better hearing then I and may not get it, but indulge me with half an ear and an open mind because nothing pisses me off more then ignorant people. People with hearing disabilities do not wear a sign around their necks unless they have an impossibly hot out-of-modeling-work Playboy playmate walking next to them wearing nothing but a g-string and nipple tassles while signing for them.
But, I expected better out of this poor excuse of a sloth.
Its been cold lately in Minnesota
Crowd: HOW COLD IS IT?
It’s been so cold; polar bears abandoned their homes here and fled north
[cue canned laughter from the sound machine]
This previous Saturday found us at several different department stores searching for new knick knacks for the trailer, a mother’s day gift, and a Starbucks so I could get my hot chocolate.
But, I expected better out of this poor excuse of a sloth.
Its been cold lately in Minnesota
Crowd: HOW COLD IS IT?
It’s been so cold; polar bears abandoned their homes here and fled north
[cue canned laughter from the sound machine]
This previous Saturday found us at several different department stores searching for new knick knacks for the trailer, a mother’s day gift, and a Starbucks so I could get my hot chocolate.
When a sudden cold snap comes about I tend to splurge on a hot chocolate while pretending to enjoy a shopping day with the family (actually I do enjoy going, just when one of them requests to use the restroom five times in a span of 10 minutes then decides to let a shit storm fly when I don’t get there quickly enough on the sixth time it wears ones patience). So we’re having fun, mom is going to get a Rachel Ray’s bacon frying skillet to add to the set we got her last month, Kyra is cleaned up and ready to press every horn on the display of this Elmo driving game, and daddy is ready for his hot chocolate for which he sneaks down to the Barnes and Noble to get.
Smart looking people are seated within the black-painted iron fenced café and I instantly drop the average IQ of the patrons by 30 while stepping up to the Starbucks counter. There a homely girl with a face that reminded me of an ex-girlfriend but unlike her, made her barista smock strain a bit up top, took my polite order of one hot chocolate, regular 2% milk, no whipped cream and no I wouldn’t not like to try a five dollar cookie today. While the order is being filled, the wife shuttles the two antsy kids to the back where they set up some toys to keep their minds occupied. Five minutes later, I’m getting a little worried as the counter help doesn’t seem to be motivated enough to blend overpriced milk and chocolate together so I can relieve my wife of having to track down both kids as the set up of Thomas the Tank Engine is being fought over. She glances up every so often as I scan the store while pacing in circles.
Yes, poker still has its own book section. No, its not going away.
Ten minutes go by, and now I can hear the wife on the other side of the store ready to lay into me for taking so long. Its like a calm before the storm where the actual words are not heard but you’re already preparing for them. Meanwhile, sloth-girl continues to look uncomfortable with my pacing and non-lewd glances in her direction, probably wondering when I’ll get the nerve to ask her to prom, but continues to say nothing.
Fifteen minutes are up, still no warming sleeve in my hand and the wife is carrying the youngest one while the boy pleads to go back for Percy and company. The storm is about to rain on top of me. I explain calmly to the wife that I’ve been waiting for the drink and only one customer has come up within those fifteen minutes. She marches straight up to the “order here” sign and demands “what the fuck people??” (not in exact words, but if you ever hear my wife swear I suggest running in the opposite direction, in ten years I’ve heard it three times).
The sloth-girl points towards the end of the counter where my drink was visibly hidden by a display of coffee beans.
“Its been sitting there for ten minutes” she says in a tone better left for a three year old that just spilled his ice cream on the back seat of your new car.
“Did you bother telling him??”
“Yes”
“Was he looking at you??!?!?!”
“No”
“Did you try again?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!”
“No”
Feeling about as high as a grain of salt on the floor that had been deicing the sidewalks I grabbed the now tepidly warm drink and left.
Question to the masses: Do you consider sloth-girl’s actions bad customer service or am I to blame for assuming there was something wrong with the machine?
Smart looking people are seated within the black-painted iron fenced café and I instantly drop the average IQ of the patrons by 30 while stepping up to the Starbucks counter. There a homely girl with a face that reminded me of an ex-girlfriend but unlike her, made her barista smock strain a bit up top, took my polite order of one hot chocolate, regular 2% milk, no whipped cream and no I wouldn’t not like to try a five dollar cookie today. While the order is being filled, the wife shuttles the two antsy kids to the back where they set up some toys to keep their minds occupied. Five minutes later, I’m getting a little worried as the counter help doesn’t seem to be motivated enough to blend overpriced milk and chocolate together so I can relieve my wife of having to track down both kids as the set up of Thomas the Tank Engine is being fought over. She glances up every so often as I scan the store while pacing in circles.
Yes, poker still has its own book section. No, its not going away.
Ten minutes go by, and now I can hear the wife on the other side of the store ready to lay into me for taking so long. Its like a calm before the storm where the actual words are not heard but you’re already preparing for them. Meanwhile, sloth-girl continues to look uncomfortable with my pacing and non-lewd glances in her direction, probably wondering when I’ll get the nerve to ask her to prom, but continues to say nothing.
Fifteen minutes are up, still no warming sleeve in my hand and the wife is carrying the youngest one while the boy pleads to go back for Percy and company. The storm is about to rain on top of me. I explain calmly to the wife that I’ve been waiting for the drink and only one customer has come up within those fifteen minutes. She marches straight up to the “order here” sign and demands “what the fuck people??” (not in exact words, but if you ever hear my wife swear I suggest running in the opposite direction, in ten years I’ve heard it three times).
The sloth-girl points towards the end of the counter where my drink was visibly hidden by a display of coffee beans.
“Its been sitting there for ten minutes” she says in a tone better left for a three year old that just spilled his ice cream on the back seat of your new car.
“Did you bother telling him??”
“Yes”
“Was he looking at you??!?!?!”
“No”
“Did you try again?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!”
“No”
Feeling about as high as a grain of salt on the floor that had been deicing the sidewalks I grabbed the now tepidly warm drink and left.
Question to the masses: Do you consider sloth-girl’s actions bad customer service or am I to blame for assuming there was something wrong with the machine?
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