Truckin with Dr. Pauly

There was a text message on my phone from Al around 8:30 last night:

“PLO!!!”

Good to my previous word for the SoCo and boobies lover, fired up Full Tilt Poker for the Skillz series as part of the BBT4. My history with these series is not good, read thru some back pages and there’s nothing but enough bad beat stories to fund President Obama’s overhaul of this nation’s economy with some left over to get the Steak Frites with that orgasm-inducing salmon spread at Bouchon’s.

Last night, no different. In a Princess Vespa-Spaceballs-wedding-like synopsis. Down to ten, third in chips. Cracked suited aces, bubble boy.

Add it to the pile of the latest BBT-anything train wreck stories and try to sleep. Would like to thank Waffles for prolonging my bust-out last night, he is the man.

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Ok, lots going in our little community if I may slip for people unfamiliar with these groups of poker blogs:

Dank and Jo. So happy for you both. And if you guys post one more fuckin screenshot of a slot jackpot after I’ve played the damn things for 16 years without hitting one solitary hand pay I’m driving over the Canuck border to burn your weed supply.

You’re on notice and congratulations on the engagement!

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Truckin.

I have and always will pimp Pauly’s blog-zine for the simple fact that I don’t have time to pour through a book when the daughter needs to be set in bed for the twentieth time because her right Dora slipper fell off. But, you get to taste real stories from writers that may not (currently) appear on the New York Times best sellers list with Grand Canyon-like writing style differences, experiencing lust, greed, and even death.

That’s where my story comes in this month. As mentioned a few month ago, I spoke of the one regret in my life a couple of months ago and turned that into a story. As Pauly helped me get the words out, they are now for you to read if you wish. My brand of literary sense is speckled with bad metaphors and worse sentence structure which would cause a group of English professors to pin my fingers down and break out sledgehammer to prevent further eyes and ears being subjected to my “writing”.

But know in this story that blood was spilt to write it, ghost of relationships past make for good reading and I hope you enjoy it as well as the contributions from Betty and of course Pauly.

1. Popeye by Paul McGuire The beat up truck with Maryland plates included three large green trashbags that were strapped down in the back. A skinny woman in the passenger seat took a swig off of a bottle and handed it to a guy in a baseball hat. He took one long pull and then spit it out of the open window... More

2. Quicklube: A Fable By Milton T. Burton It's turning out to be an A-number-one-fine day for C.C. Chumly. He and several of his like-minded buddies are quaffing a few Tall Toad Pilsners at the Belly-Up Bar, a truly classy place in beautiful downtown Midland, Texas... More

3. The Regret by David "Drizz" Aydt My scar is buried under six feet of solid Nordic dirt and ice, among the mass headstones there's a grave marked with her name that has not been seen by these eyes... More

4. Blue No. 1 by Betty Underground He looked up from the table and our eyes were locked. After so many years, sometimes there is no need for words... More

5. The Miracle of Highway Six by Art Rosch Nevada is a washboard, an undulating series of mountains and valleys, and the roads cut straight across this ancient seabed. At the top of each peak, the view spreads down the road ahead, which goes in a straight line for miles and miles until it disappears into the next rise of the landscape... More

I’ll leave it there today and bottle up the fury of Ed Werner, Peter King, and Chris Mortenson mass reports of Brett Favre donning the purple next year for the Vikings. Or 127 year old John Madden not knowing why he's walking around his cruiser with an erection . Not many things are more important than football, this was. Hope you enjoy the read.

Rage unseen since Jessica Simpson couldn't fit into a size 4 jeans

According to the internets, there should be a rage flowing thru my body over Susan Boyle's "never been kissed" proclaimation. Blog buzz is reaching crest unseen since someone came up with the idea to place links from your site to one showing hardcore anal cattle prod porn.

Disclaimer:

I have never seen the video of her singing (which is supposed to be good).

There's a saying in the Fark community about women looking like Ms. Boyle (or guys, but mostly women because most internet posting trolls are men by nature and they lacked their mother's love while she always gave the extra strip of bacon to their sibling and this is their way of getting back at that salty pork fiend).

"Kill it with fire".

Except I would point the M2-2 Flamethrower at these lovely interwebs for spreading this story and make it stop before my eyes bleed and force myself to watch a replay of the most recent Victoria Secret TV special. We get it that she lacks the basic modelistic outlines one would expect in a showsinger or maybe even in a hausfrau. Stop spreading the hate and start snapping up more video of Keeley Hazell, maybe use Boyle's voice in the background singing an aria about heavenly bodies so people can appreciate both of their beauties.

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Ok, the Mookie.

It sucked that the servers went down.

It sucked that a decent night of tournament poker did not receive its proper end.

But, dem the breaks. Full Tilt has done too much for poker bloggers over the years, and many people I'd consider friends under their employ, its hard to muster up a stupid 2006-ish rant about online poker being unstable.

Its a paper cut. With a kiss, some neosporin, and a clear Dora lined band-aid there's no reason to bemoan the fact that this was probably my best (read: only) of grabbing a BBT4 TOC seat. There's no fuel in the tank for these late nights/early mornings should luck shine a little light on my laptop for some cards.

This Sunday I was very deep in a Pot Limit Hold em/Omaha MTT and all my wife could do was ask every five minute if I was coming outside. Despite telling her there's X amount of people left, I rush through decisions based on cards versus playing back at the people I saw as weak.

Last night during the pivotal hand of the final table run, a half-awake Wyatt decided somewhere around 11 o'clock that it was a great idea to come upstairs, drop trou right in front of me and the laptop with a mini fire hose of piss ready to burst. After rushing him into bathroom, I come back to see myself holding Q-something offsuit the board showing two ladies on it and a timer ticking to fold. Nabbed quads on the turn managed to get my short-stack out of the hole and an hour later watched first time poker blogger Dr. Pauly come to the table with a decent stack when the blue final table backdrop appeared.

20 minutes later the servers went down, I had a similar stack to everyone except Pauly, after waiting about 15 minutes, shot an email to that rookie, wishing him luck as he picked up the humble job of blogging about poker and went to salvage a few hours of sleep.

Bad luck? Perhaps. But poker isn't about luck now is it? :)

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A question to the masses: You see a pop up window in the morning after downing your third overpriced Venti triple shot espresso proclaiming your password is soon to expire. If given ten days to change it, how soon does your columbian bean filled head take to do it?

Trying to look like a poker player

Upon Hoy calling me out for not playing many blogger tourneys lately (very true, work hours, kids, sand in vagina), I decided to play the Mookie tonight...

Then this hit after three and a half hours:

Not happy with this, and heading to bed since 4am is going to come extremely early tomorrow today. Good luck to Pauly who was crushing one-armed hookers and a half-pound of sticky while check-raising his way to the chip lead. He deserves the win if it comes down to chip count.

Peace.

Premature Cardulation

Much like every chance I have to consumate my marriage, I came too early playing the Skillz game last night.

First hand, nut flush.

Little bit later, Aces, got paid off.

Set over Set, capped pre, flop, turn, and river. Double up.

Still not enough as my small pairs late in the second hour went down in flames each time. No traction after the set over set hand and I busted somewhere between taking some generic cold pills and a shot of OJ to attempt to ease into bed.

Failed on that part as well, as my Arabian Nights dream kept getting more and more interesting with every passing harem lady marking the side boundaries of a broken stone path leading into some celestial mist. I couldn't seem to reach the mist but also couldn't gawk too hard at the sheer fabrics across the Persian hotties bodies because the stones would fall into an abyss if I stayed too long on one.

Which was a stark contrast to the view while attempting to sweat out this cold/flu in the sauna last night.

A note to old dudes who enjoy prancing around naked in the locker room: Its a towel, used to dry oneself off after showering or covering unslightly areas like your micropenis you seem to have a little too much showing off while surrounded by people of the same gender. NO ONE WANTS TO LOOK AT YOUR OLIVE-SIZED DICK THAT'S COVERED BY YOUR FOURTH BELLY CHIN. Cover the fuck up please. Thankfully by removing my glasses I was not subject to wee-wang in the sweat room and could sit in peace with my Benadryl-infused dreams.

HORSE-ing Around

Wisconsin. Live like you mean it!

Shouldn't the state slogan be: Drink like you mean it!

I'm sure StB would agree.

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Bombed the Skillz game horribly. Won a PLO8 SnG to cover all St. Patty's Day amateur night antics. Enjoyed the contortions of Japan's and Korea's picture go into to release a baseball (Darvish will be the next Dice-K, note it early and often).

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Sounds of the week: Was able to hear my daughter's explaination of how her flower bed sheets are far superior to Wyatt's Optimius Prime laden ones. She didn't have to repeat it three times, no frustration out of both us at 5am, end result was a toddler being calm enough to get re-tucked in thirty minutes later and going back to sleep.

More of this please.

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In light of the upcoming trek to Las Vegas, I'm sending a call to any of you who have visited that city. Anyone?

No?

Ok, IF you would go to such a place and couldn't run around collecting stripper dust, hangovers, and gambling markers and wanted to do Vegas-lite do you have any suggestions?

Here's the list the spouse and I thought of barring Rhino or Olympic Gardens having a tucked away short-term day care center (for the single moms on stage!):

Bellagio-conservatory and fountains

Caesars-fountain show

Fremont street experience

M & M World/Game works

Mirage- volcano, secret gardens and dolphin habitat

Flamingo- wildlife habitat

Sirens of TI

MGM lion habitat

Circus Circus- circus acts

Weekend Update

If you ever wanted to feel whiter then white on the dance floor, take an Strike! class at your local gym and surround yourself in ineptitude to stay with the rhythm while encased by good looking sweaty women.

Ok, there's perks I suppose.

Enjoy your weekend, its my weekend "off" so I'll be tempted to take a bad beat or three in the BritBloggerment tomorrow as part of the BBT4 at Full Tilt, see you there if I don't collapse from my daughter's appearent need to stretch the noise capacity my new hearing aids can take on before the sound turns into something resembling a F-14 Tomcat doing a fly-by after shooting down Jester before the big volleyball game against IceMan.

Screech Powers Does Not Approve Of Your Weather

Something to warm up the people in this midwest region... the KFAN Babes Bracket!

Megan Fox vs. Kelly Kapowski (Battle of the Babes who Banged Brian Austin Green!!)

Yum. Hop the link to see more, even Keeley Hazell appears somewhere besides on the pages of Wicked Chops Poker

-2 temp this morning with a wind chill around instant car door freezing force a mere week from green beer time? Not fun, had to get the ski jacket and choppers back out of the closet after thinking they were retired for the season. Then I looked at my driver's license and remembered the state I live in.

Also not fun? Missing every semi-draw in last night's Skillz series PLO tourney for the BBT4 in a game I felt ok playing, and being out before the first break. Tis my luck in these things and the reason why I don't play more often.

Edit: Minnesota State High School hockey tourney starts today!! If you don't get the hype, then you're probably a Californian that thinks he/she understands the sport. SKOL Warroad!!

Chatting, Crying, and Truckin

A sad good-bye to Matt Birk. This move made about as much sense as signing Sage Rosenfels to the Vikes.

Sigh.

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Saw over 100 signed up for the first Mookie of the BBT4 last night. Rock on folks.

I had zero interest in joining despite getting back from running the kids around, going to the gym, and getting home in time to watch the Gopher's Men Basketball team play an exciting game against Stinkin' Badgers for the possible NCAA at large bid bubble burst. Well, exciting for Big Ten basketball as the score at halftime showed the leading scorer for BOTH teams was 6. I think the rim was in deep thought about filing charges for assault and battery.

Long live the barn.

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Also on a Full Tilt note, I penned a post for Al's "Poker From the Rail" describing those annoyingly funny three years olds who blow up in the chat boxes and have potential for increasing your bankroll because they can't handle the cards not falling in their favor *raises hand*.

Everyone has been guilty of a "Waffle-esque" rant. Maybe not to the point of describing the different garden tools he used to impregenate your sister and mother last night in a Motel 6, but if you haven't flipped out at the tables there's no base from to learn to control those emotions to build on.

Hop over here to the post.

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Now that you're done with amateur hour at the ACME Comedy Club, time for the real writers to line up.

Go get your Truckin on. Fair warning for gentlemen who can still get it up without chemicals from Pfizer, stay seated at work while reading Betty's red laced story. Wow.


March 2009, Vol. 8, Issue 3

Welcome back to the latest issue of Truckin'...

1. Lubbock's Own: Larry "the Laugher" Larson by Johnny Hughes

Large Mouth Maude Larson once beat a Hockley County man half to death at the Cotton Club with a bowling pin because she thought he stole her comb. Later, she found it in her purse, like all women do. She didn't feel a bit bad. The world-class bitch... More

2. A Good Beginning by Milton T. Burton

He bills himself as my best friend, but he's not. My best friend was a Kentucky farm boy who died in screaming agony in the Mekong Delta forty years earlier. But even aristocrats like to name-drop occasionally, and mine has been a good name to drop since not long after I came to the New York financial world out of a Cleveland blue color neighborhood by way of Vietnam decades ago... More

3. Happy Valentine's Day Tamara Johnson by Dave Peterson

I moved behind the door to investigate and possibly kill someone. I figured I was ready. The deadbolt lock was sprung with a soft – click. I heard keys jangling, a girl's voice laughing, and then the handle turned. I leveled the revolver and pulled the hammer back... More

4. Hunter Wellington by Betty Underground

Her comfort in her own skin surpasses societies modesty boundaries. It is just how she is. Most people come home from work and take off their shoes. She doesn't stop there, she takes off her pants and pulls her bra off through the sleeves of her t-shirt. Discarding them on the floor of the entrance. She prefers the freedom, and cares less about what others might think... More

5. Monroe by Paul McGuire

Monroe sat at the end of the bar on the last stool. He always did. He never left. The octogenarian arrived five minutes before O'Looney's opened and had to be carried out every night when one of his grandkids stopped by to pick him up... More

Thanks For The Extra Sleep

I try to like these blogger series.

I do.

Watching some Quentin Tarantino flick with a lot of zombies and blood and Rose McGowan looking rather striking as an amputee with an assault rifle for a leg, I broke my word to play the Skillz Series Stud 8 game last night for the Full Tilt BBT4.

Messing with karma just means the exit will be a double penetration donkey dong fucking sans lube, and I bent over for the ride. Swimming with nary a hand bigger then two pair for an hour and half but managed to hold onto my starting stack, I grab hidden aces, get aces full by sixth, cap seventh only to see someone turn over quads.

Awesome.

If I wasn't in such a good mood from the new and improved relaxed home life, there might be a rant following these words. Instead, thanks for playing, appreciate getting five times the buy-in back on Stars due to a reverse cooler on the aptly named "uwillgetbroke", turned off the odd movie that I'll never watch again, grabbed the wife's firm ass and went to bed.

Call it a wash.

Better things like a free night at Treasure Island with free slot play tomorrow make for a happy degenerate since my hearing aids will be draining the majority of the fun money as of Friday at approximately 2:00pm CST. But those amplifiers will pay for themselves if the hot audiologist is to be believed, if anything to hear the inane chatter at a live poker table and my daughter speaking in the third person rants.

"Kyra is not happy with you daddy"

I'm sure many parents have figured out that their own attitudes trickle down to their kids'. Only now that the air at home has become more breathable since the smog of apathy has been HEPA filtered out, has this parent figured out how to enjoy his kids and his marriage again.

I reserve the right to change said shiny-happy-people attitude if I have to change another runny shit diaper in a family changing room at the pool while scooping up said remains that "missed" the toilet. Or until the next virtual cooler.

At least coolers don't smell like two-week old road kill.

Jay Cutler: You Are Wanted At Winter Park

More football talk...

Yesterday the KFAN lines blew up when free agent T.J. Houshman-I-cant-spell-the-rest-of-this-long-ass-name-that-barely-fits-on-an-NFL-jersey was reported to be getting wine-and-dined by Zigi and the rest of the Vikings brass. Dining which included going to Manny's which kick ass steaks should have kept him pinned down to our frozen ass state looking for a perfect compliment to Berrian. A decent route runner to Berrian's speed game, plus Purple Jesus floating across the turf at speeds that would stun Sonic the Hedgehog.

Even with Sage Rosenfels at the helm (grrrrrrrrr) this move made sense and would have boosted the one-sided offense into a multi-weapon arensal when coupled with a decent defense would have given this team NFC Championship/Super Bowl possiblities.

Instead. T.J. goes to Seattle. A 4-12 team. New coach. Wide receivers that fall like outdoor dominos in monsoon season. He could have come to a team that is Super Bowl ready and settles for a few extra millions to be the best player on the house team. If someone with a half-way rational NFL brain can tell me a different reason then the money please do so. Don't some athletes still want to win versus being able to afford that ninth Bentley and strippers on-call in ever NFL city? Finally gets a chance to get out of Ocho Sucko's shadow and settles to try to eclipse Jerry Rice's massive Seahawks receiving totals.

Now... rumor mills are up about possible Cutler to Vikes due to the middle finger the Broncos gave the all-pro 25 year old with a possible 3-way trade with the Chiefs and Bucs.

Get him here Zigi, I suggest the Porterhouse and loaded baked potato. Maybe drop by Schieks for the afternoon shift for cuban stogies and the champagne room, whatever, this team needs a captain with talent not spry corporal with spunk.

Jay, you're wanted here.

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In online poker talk.

The BBT4 kicked off this weekend with the Big Game and Brit Bloggerment. I jumped into the shallow end as I don't have much cash left on Full Tilt, and "played" in the Bloggerment. QQ vs. AKo, A9o vs. KQ in consecutive hands after scrapping by with bad cards (minus one AA which I slowplayed to the opposite of positive EV) before the 1st break and out.

Not fun. I do not want to get burnt out before this thing even starts so unless the skillz game tonight is Omaha or HORSE, I'll be a cheerleader this week.

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Friday is the new day for my new ears if the doctors don't decide to pull another auditory cocktease.

I may even pop on for a rare weekend post as my brother is throwing a beer pong tourney just one week after ankle surgery. The man is an alcoholic warrior of solid nordic ilk and shall scream for Valhalla with every cup sunk despite the full leg cast and painkillers. Plus, I'll be able to test my bionic ears in a room filled with drunken yelling and taunts that I'll be able to mirror back now that I should be able to hear them.

One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila FLOOR!

Quick hits today:

Better hearing will have to wait one more day, as the audiologist said my equipment will not reach the arctic north till tomorrow.

Would have been in time for my sis-in-law's birthday dinner at a Mexician restaurant with four screaming kids.

Darn. Patron shots por favor?

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From the office of pulling numbers out from behind their ears: "1 in 3 Americans have lost a job or knows someone who has"

Honestly, that number should be 2 in 3 or even 3 in 4. Sadly, its supposed to worse.

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Made the points in the Mookie last ni... oh wait there were no points, just lubricated conversation and a foreshadow of just how tired I would be if I attempt to play this BBT4 series. Is it possible to play poker until midnight each night (totally glass overflowing with optimism as its more likely I'd bust within the first two hours) and wake up four hours later to splash on some Axe Body Gel onto my chiseled human form hoping to someday get my picture on Hot Chicks with Douchebags maybe even take chode of the week honors.

High life aspirations, yessir. The dream to some day to reach the same rare douche-knight air as "BRA!" makes my nipples dance with glee.

Gear up for Sunday with the folks across the pond for the first official event, and if you like a little spice with your blogger tournament, check out Miami Don's "Big Game" the same night.

What's With the Pipe Organ Music?

(image from Yahoo.com)

While I didn't watch the Oscars last night due to Comcast issuing an epic fail on basic customer service this weekend (it took four phone calls, and two IM conversations for them to figure out that I needed a new cable box after discontinuing the DVR), I did catch the clip Steve Martin/Tina Fey exchange this morning thanks to the KFAN "Power Trip Show".





Get those two a movie/TV show stat, it might be the only non-sports/poker/porn I'd watch. That and curses to AMC for showing The Godfather and Godfather II on loop for the past week, forcing me to relinquish several hours of sleep to watch Moe Greene take one to the eye, and diving behind a bar whenever the eerie organ music started up. Lack of sleep this past week rolled up to my usual action packed end-of-the-month Sunday night at PokerStarsBlog. Go and check out the $1 Million Turbo Takedown, Sunday Warm-up, and Battle of the Planets write-ups. And for the late late show, Jen was up again covering the Sunday Million which almost had 9,000 players!





The finishing beer after those always taste like liquid platnium. Thankfully, for the past two attempts at following the action the heads-up play was under six hands for all three tourneys yet again. Are they scared to play it out or is taking a (possible) preflop flip positive EV? Considering one of the heads-up match contained a WCOOP champ who has several deep finishes in big online MTTs, wouldn't you want to let skill give you an edge versus hoping to hit with those overcards?





Then again, I've played in exactly one $215 online event (which I cashed in thank you very much) and my largest MTT "score" would buy you two round trip tickets to East Des Moines, Iowa with enough left over to purchase half of an airline snack pack with a watered down beer.





While we're on the online poker kick...





BBT4 has been announced as Al makes his way to Irish Kevin's read below for the times/places/faces. My participation will be a game-time decision each night as the kids have suddenly developed a keen ear for actually listening to what their parents are saying (Best. Streess. Relief. Ever. outside of a decent blowjob of course).





I'll be shooting to play all of the Skillz series games since that's my best shot for a Tournament of Champions seat since it doesn't involve being a NLHE push-monkey and rely on winning those elusive coin flips.





Here's the lineup:





Brit Blogger Game


When: Sunday's at 16:00ET


Game: NLHE


Buyin: $5+.50


Password: donkament





PPI / Riverchasers Tournament


When: Monday's at 22:00


ETGame: Deepstack NLHE


Buyin: $24+2 or token


Password: riverchasers





Blogger Skillz Game


When: Tuesday's at 21:30ET


Game: rotation of non-NLHE games


Buyin: $10+1


Password: skillz








The Mookie


When: Wednesday's at 22:00ET


Game: Deepstack NLHE


Buyin: $10+1Password: vegas1