Riding The High Tide In

American Idol was popped on to both my ear's dissatisfaction to receive the fork-on-chalkboard sound of Sanjaya. Excuse me sir, New Kids On the Block called and little Joey wants his outfit back, but keep the inability to hold a tune.

Can you get booted for being the one solid performer on the show? Simon was right to point out that Melinda should quit the Minnesotan-type bashiful "aw' shucks it ain't nuttin'" attitude and acknowledge she is the best without hitting diva territory. Maybe those years as a backup singer have scarred her from blossoming to the performer she could be because she doesn't want to turn into that type of person.

I'm changing careers in a matter of a few weeks and all I'm typing out is some TV show where viewers intend on continuing the joke (except last week where he finally earned his way to move on) of keeping the chameleon of Bangladesh on the show.

Avoidance, misdirection, deep breaths, family time, and some poker and porn sessions will suffice as I saunder through the work day while being viewed as some sort of sick puppy with those cute eyes that make you want to babble some baby talk while scratching its ears. I'm usually one to roll with the punches but taking the frying pan to the face yesterday left a bacon-scented greasy residue and it will take some time to trust again while pouring over my new T.P.S. reports.

Its ironic that I choose yesterday to wear my "company colors" to work, and left the building with a feeling of violation. Don't get me wrong, I'm graceful and actually optomistic about the new position (despite it being a small demotion) but suddeness of the three different departmental meetings yesterday and sitting through them with people casting stares in your direction like you just popped a zit on them, wasn't my idea of a solid work day. Thus ends the work rant, back to business as usual.

On the poker side, I continued my little streak of three final tables in four days with another late cash in a $20 90 man SnG last night. With Matty pointing out that my opponents have managed to defeat the laws of mathematics and lost well over 100 buy ins to $10 and $20 SnGs, I figured my chances were fairly good for a shot at the $500+ pay day. But, the fateful hand came down three handed, and I'd like you weigh your expert opinions if you will (I don't do this often so if you come here for poker content, enjoy):

Blinds 750/1500/100 (ante might be slightly different)

Effective stacks:

Button (the charming, dashing, and frankly looks goofy with his new contacts in, your hero): 68,000
Sharkscope Donkey: 120,000
Push Monkey: 113,500

Reads: Donkey has managed to suckout his way to the final table and the chip lead by hitting several draws after CALLING all-in on three different occassions. But, he has shown the ability to fold to aggression.

Push Monkey was just gifted his stack by another equally large stack by pushing pre-flop with A9o and getting called by 55. He has one move post-flop and that is to push despite having nearly 100BBs.

I raise with a pot bet from the button as I have a couple of times with non-premium hands that are better suited for doubling down at the Rio's six deck blackjack tables, but this time I am looking down at AcKc. Donkey folds, and Push Monkey elects to call.

Flop is: Kd Qc 7d

Push Monkey sees a banana and starts a Tarzan yell while spamming his all-in tab on the betting screen. After watching a couple of other players in the tournament do this with any pair, any draw, and watching this opponent continually shove his chips in like a Maury-show guest that just found out he is the 23rd guy to be tested negative for the trailer trash's kid's paternity do you call here?

Forget range of hands, EV, and that time you walked by the women's dressing room at Kohl's and catching a small glimps of the Lindsay Lohan (pre-preztel stick figure) look-a-like trying on a new bikini, and can you give him credit here for having more than just one pair based upon his inability to keep his dick in his pants?

Do you fold and look for a better spot? We can certainly do so, since our stack size is fairly large with respect to the blinds and eventually you know your opponents will shove pre-flop and race off their chips thus leaving you at a probable 4:1 disadvanage heads-up.

There I wrote about poker again, should suffice until after the mOOOOkie tonight. See you then.

Thanks for dropping by, now I'd like to thank you all for the kind words of encouragement over the past few weeks. The emotional roller coaster has been flatened out by the IMs and comments thus keeping me even keel through the highs and lows, and I'm a better person due to it.

My head is in a different place right now. I come in this morning to find a private meeting with HR and my boss' boss.

Rumors of course have been swirling and my head is about in the same place it was pushing a pair into Otis' flopped trips last night.

I'll update later if I'm not busy packing up my stuff in a copy paper box after 11 years.


Update: Bad news is that my position is in fact being shipped off to Bangalore. The good news is, I have been reassigned within the company without any lost of pay.

I guess that's the best I could have hoped for, still feels like a kick to the junk though.

Big Game, Big Win

I checked with my bookie this weekend about taking Santana at home versus the lowly Tampa Bay Devil Rays on the run line.

"Bet the house and get me some Shrek fun fruit!" exclaimed the diminutive arm breaker

Fortunately the wager was fictional as paying for a trip to a train museum and there’s no such thing as wagering on sporting events over the internets. I had to pay that sinister toddler looking man-child pictured to the left whom laughed his way to the Jackson Street Roundhouse after the Cy Young award winner decided to leave a few change-ups hanging thus losing the game for the Twinkies.

At least the Thomas the Tank Engine videos were fun to watch with free chocolate milk and M & M cookies on Sunday morning as we beat the crowd and enjoyed a little history lesson of the St. Paul based roundhouse upon the old steel horses. After a quick nine with my friend Burnsie, who only enjoys my easy money on the golf course, we set out to meet up with family for some overpriced arcade fun at Dave and Busters.

A question on tipping etiquette: we had a party of about 14 people including three kids that were well-behaved despite the siren sounds of tickets being extracted from the various games of skill in the arcade. Our bill had an 18% gratuity charge, standard and not an issue as it was well-deserved. Does the waiter receive this, or does the tip go to the house? I tipped above the amount anyway due to the waiter’s lack of corporate robotism as seen on previous trips, but if I hadn’t tipped I wanted to make sure he was rewarded for answering in-depth questions from Wyatt about the restored Pac-Man game that stood only a first down away from his seat at the table.

After grabbing enough tickets to purchase must have items such as a Star Wars lightsaber (over/under for knocked down pictures is set at three days) and a couple of Care Bears for the little one, we headed back home where I was ready to cheer on my fellow bloggers in the Big Game (hosted by Miami Don).

Kyra was dancing around due to the overload of lights and double shots of Rumple Mintze but settled in with her newly acquired stuffed animals and slept like, well, a baby. My computer showed a couple of IMs from a pair of fellow degenerates asking if I was playing the tourney this evening. I assumed the tourney started at 7:30 because that’s what Microsoft Outlook said, my thanks to Billy G. in Washington! With a few “stitch it ups” and “just give the kid a tranquilizer dart” I managed to read thru half of the Cat In the Hat’s antics with promises of finishing this evening while pre-registering for the tourney.

Defending Champ Pauly, Miami Don, Blinders, Iakaris, TABLE CHANGE! Then again, this is what the Big Game was supposed to do, bring out the bloggers for a chance at a decent sized cash and “serious” poker. Yes, I played the hammer for a raise. Yes, I played the mOOOOOkie for a raise.



And yes, I managed to chop 1st after it was all done and took the 1st place points for the bloggerpokerchallenge as I apologize for not knowing my fellow players whom I chopped with.

One flip, one suckout, and one resuck that’s all the action packed recap I can muster, as I’ll leave tourney reporting to the pros, and stick with things I know like skulling a lob wedge so badly someone asked what gauge was the shotgun I fired after an approach shot.

And after losing a good chunk of change on Saturday after another failed attempt to grasp limit O8, it put a smile back on this “poker” blogger’s face another as wide as the bookie’s picture above.

Thanks for dropping by, now if the other players in the chop could forward their links I’ll post em up as my two readers will send countless hits to your websites :)

Edit:

Mike Maloney (not from Police Academy!)

Crazgamer

Anyone know the clown?

Two Cards? I Push.

Actions speak louder then words, right?

Some people just suffer from lead foot disease when spouting off (see Don Imus).

Now consider this guy from Northern Minnesota:

"(I)f the people in my district had voted for slavery, and if the vast majority had, and I was representing them, the answer is yes, I would have voted for it," Commissioner Keith Nelson said at a meeting of the St. Louis County Board.

Nelson's comment came during a board debate in February over a proposed county smoking ban.

Nelson said he opposed the ban because most of his constituents wanted him to -- and he always followed the will of his constituents.That prompted a question from fellow Commissioner Bill Kron. "I said there are some issues of conscience where the majority may not be right, for example would you have voted for slavery if the majority of your constituents would have?" Kron recalled Wednesday.

When Nelson said yes, "Everyone's jaws sort of dropped," Kron said.

Misplaced bigotry? Misplaced sense of responsiblity? Or misplaced his fifth of Johnny Walker?

Now... think of Imus who has a past, unlike the above example, has a history of spouting off at the mouth about various subjects in a non-PC way that was until last week, tolerated and even rewarded. Was it really neccessary to jump on the guy's freakish nose hairs for comment that may have been a little inflamatory due to the color of HIS skin? Anyone want to bet money on a black comedian doing stand-up in the next month will use the term "nappy headed 'ho" within their set while mocking Imus?

No takers for the "no" side? Will Al and Jesse be there to admonish the jokester?



As for my pledged poker-y content, due to Speaker's ability to win races with crap cards like AKs, I spent the entire Mooooooookie last night acting like a push monkey until Wyatt decided to wake up around 11pm and I pushed any two before assisting him with bathroom duties to see I was bounced in 15th place after him a quick hug and kiss goodnight.

Actually, I had fun again behind my nurse avatar with the Dallas Stars rooting Fat Guy (nice comeback by Modano and crew, wish I'd stayed up for the final buzzer), and other familar faces that are proding me to join the troops in Vegas within a few months. But, other obligations and no time to loosen the wallets of the online Omatards leaves my funds rather limp for such a flight.

If I should win a bracelet race, this would change my plans. As nothing short of being called a snowball on a stick by a radio shock jock would stop my appearance at the Rio. Never mind those gentlemen with three letter in bright yellow on their backs either.

Thanks for dropping by, now you may fear your standings on the BloggerChallenge scoreboard now that I have arrived.

Mookie? Signs Point To Yes

I shall be conserving my chi today for slaying the monster that has become Miami Don.

Funny, I thought he was pretty cool meeting him at the Sahara last week, now all he does is take blogger's mobneys via quasi-legal means over the internets. Of course I should mention I lasted three hours longer then him at the live tourney in a sad attempt to knock this beast off his game.

If that doesn't work I'll resort to sticks and stones next.

Baring some freakish snow storm in April I be pla...

Oh, its snowing here? Sigh.

See you at the Mookie tonight kids, remember to bring your jokes and screw those tin foil caps on tight.

Note to Ryan: Did you get my email for your brother? For some reason they get caught by spam filters sometimes.

The Post With No Name

I’m in a strange place right now. There should be different roads and avenues for me to take yet I feel trapped in a tunnel between two ways of solving an issue at home that gnaws at me like a pesky gnat while enjoying a beer soaked brat on the porch during a hot summer day with a little breeze coming through.

What do you do when you’ve beaten a subject to death, and then throw it into a microwave for good measure? Yet it comes back up like undercooked pork leaving a raw taste in your mouth and gasping for someway to feel whole again after praying to the porcelain gods. I have no words for the emotions I have gone through in the last two weeks due to my sudden entry into mainstream life again. No longer do I require an army of friends and family to shuttle my handi-capable ass around like Lieutenant Dan needing to procure more shrimp. There’s one less logistical reason for me not to grab that piece of paper from a scholarly institution to advance my career at work (if I choose to do so, but at the moment I enjoy my job).

How do you look at the love of your life knowing that something is being held back yet cannot explain it? It tortures me that the effort is there but the actions are not. Do I press that small pair in middle position with five big blinds left on the bubble? Sorry for the poker analogy but being that this was once a poker blog and that I play once in a while still, a little card tangent seemed fitting.

I do not love my life any less, but yet feel a piece of the puzzle is missing. There’s a want out there with no name (cue “The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly” theme song and a dusty Clint Eastwood with a hand rolled smoke hanging on the side of his mouth, strolling into town to kick ass). Seriously I’m fucked in the head right now and Vegas didn’t alleviate mental ping-pong that has been going on for a while. If only life were as easy as a Jimmy Buffett song maybe I wouldn’t be pecking away at these keys wondering why I didn’t even touch the computer last night due to apathy towards my favorite hobby.

Ok, I’m going to end this self-gazing before I rip too heavily into Sidney “Cream Puff” Ponson for his stellar batting practice performance last night on the hill. A hint to the hockey haired, sumo wrestling gutted hurler… throwing looping change-ups over the middle of the plate will get hit hard. Chew on that next time you’re thinking about blaming the hen-pecked fielders (for one error) that had to deal with the lasers coming off those over-priced Yankee bats.

Thanks for dropping by, now I promise to make it to the next bloggerchallenge.com MOOOOOOOOOkie tourney and retain my poker playing blogger card.

Dude Where's My Hundred?

Back from the Land of the Lost and into the Land of the Frost, typing on my trusty Microsoft Word blank page, negotiating my brand new contacts which seem to enjoy changing my eye sight in five minute intervals.

Did I have fun? Yes.

Did I drink enough to warrant a wheelchair ride again? No, but it wasn’t lack of effort.

Did I win? Kind of.

Did I see bOObies? Lots and some that gave bOObies a bad name which shouldn’t have seen the bright, blue skies above the MGM pool.

Vegas had more of a calming effect on me, versus the all out lets-get-really-really-drunk-and-end-up-with-a-three-way-from-a-porn-slappers-ad-girl-and-the-wife. There were no extreme highs, but a decent size bump in happiness from the Sahara. Seeing Don and dishing out bad NCAA hockey advice (UND BLOWS!) was definitely a highlight of the trip in my book. Of course I played a little poker there as well, and managed to hold the blogger tradition of finishing up late at the final table of their daily rebuy tourney. I couldn’t overcome the oppressive blinds for the win, but a fifth place finish after being almost dead last at the first break gave me a sense of accomplishment for the week. Or maybe that’s the several Cap’n Cokes I consumed doing the talking as the waitresses were kind enough to keep my glass filled for the duration of this surprisingly well structured tourney for the first two hours. At the price, I was considering the tourney a grand bargain while I watched my chip stack deplete slowly since the blinds-to-chip ratio was low and one could play many speculative hands.

But, for the cost of tipping the waitress for some refreshments, and having Don’s wide smile cheer me on the rail (victim of cards not holding up), I got the uplift needed to make the Vegas trip a success. Successful, doesn’t equate to profitability when you factor in my lowly slot fetish. Oh, these denizens of electronic coin operated hell, your siren call of bonus games and mindless entertainment with waitresses serving cold cocktails and serving even colder stares of disgust as your pennies and nickels are spun through an random number generator so the casino can build that $2.8 billion new addition.

Mr. Cashman > Drizz

Drizz > Stupid people at the poker table

Funny how I could take money from the douchebag in the seven seat as his hands shook so badly that finally woke up with Aces for the first time in two hours begging for someone to play Q9o and hit two pair to bust him, but that computer generated top-hat wearing coin did a similar number to my wallet.

So who’s the idiot?

On a slightly different tangent, I am sad to report that the quality in porn slapping on the streets of Las Vegas Boulevard were at an all-time low. No feeling given into handing fliers of promiscuous women offering half-hour to an hour long relationships of a platonic nature of course. No zing of smut emitting from those fingers to provide Sunny the former cheerleader’s private phone number. Besides no lazy river at the MGM pool, the porn slappers lack of marketing zealousness was the only true disappointment of the trip.

Despite the lack of inter-tubing fun, the MGM itself rocked. The beds were covered with lush pillows (do people really require 6 full size pillows???) and comforters that caused me to pass out almost every night after returning with the wife to our temporary home, and not giving into sneaking out the door at 2am to throw another Pai Gow hand into the muck. The poker room was run professionally as always with staff that kept my BAC at Vegas-levels for the week. Only miscue by the poker room was the morning tourney structure that should have “turbo” written next to its description. Popular indeed, as alternates were being filed in quickly for this card-catching bingo tourney during the first three levels up until the break. Sadly, my bingo card showed no dabber markings and I exited before the wife could get her soon-to-be burnt but still cute tush away from the pool.

Still buzzing on the plane ride home, I wondered out loud to my wife why we continue to make our yearly journey to a city that leaves our wallets lighter and heads swimming in alcoholic residue on the trip back to the frozen north?

I still don’t have a definitive answer and may never have one since my name will be on another ticket going west next year as well.

Thanks for dropping by, now for those who enjoy a good steak (and if you don’t go back to your tofu burger and ignore this) I have a question.

I was dining at Emeril’s at the MGM for our nice dinner of the week and choose the Louisiana Cedar Plank Campfire Steak to remind myself that double cheeseburger at McD’s while tasty just don’t substitute for a real dinner. Now while I saw “cedar plank” in the description I wasn’t expecting the actual wood to be served along with the best mashed taters this mouth has ever tasted.

The question(s): Why was the steak prepped on the wood, and why was it served with the wood?

Remember I consider fine dining as any place that provides silverware versus plastic wrapped sporks and don’t get out to places like this often.

Icy Buzz Kill

Seeing your breath after exiting the plane from Vegas certainly reminds you the SPF 45 is not necessary for sitting by the pool with your margarita the next day.

Short trip report on Monday after I sober up :)

Home Improvement Tip #483

If you connect your sump pump to a hose during a downpour, don't be surprised when you return home for the evening that your basement is flooded when you don't put the hose outside of the house.

Be back on Friday.


VEGAS!!!!!!!!!

Vegas Vegas VEGAS

Why does the shit storm always hit at work when you've got one hand on a Cap'n Coke, one ass-cheek sitting at a $5 Pai-GOW table, and your lips drooling over that Vanessa from Marigold, Missouri in the standard Vegas cocktail waitress dress that only covers up her nipples.

I'm buried under a sea of credit memos, ledgers, and meetings until punching out at 4:30 so do yourself a favor and hit up Pauly and Otis' coverage of the EPT Monte Carlo and live vicariously through the stories about eight dollar diet cokes and seeing people with pockets full of cash that would trump my net worth.



And for the artist formerly known as Bobby Bracelet:

Today is International Disadvantaged People's Day.
Please send an encouraging message to a retarded
friend, just as I've done.
I don't care if you lick windows, interfere with farm
animals, or occasionally shit yourself.......
You hang in there, Sunshine.
You're fucking special!

Jailed For Cuteness

Daddy, I promise never to split tens again

Its Just Like A Post

Sitting down ready to bang out a long post about what the new found freedom feels like, but Sanajay's hair-do finds it wasy in my head and cock-blocks my ability to type.

Why couldn't I get back from my congratulations dinner just five minutes later and have my eyes and ears spared from his erection deflating voice. Like Derek, I just listen to this guy, and my Sanajay tilt goes away.




Four days from Vegas and I'm not excited.

Not pumped.

Sleeping soundly.

No dreams of coming out, doubling down, or shouting PAI GOW dashing in my head

This worries me that I've spent too much on a vacation that will not be relaxing, fun, and without wheelchair races versus the security guys in the high stakes parlors. I do look forward to hooking up with Don and placing my bets for the Vikes and Twinkies (free money for the sportsbook!) while developing a sore neck from admiring the various sizes of breasticles that will be on display.

Or maybe its this cold that's slowing me down while knowing I have about eight articles due over at my poker blog site before I step onto that Northwest flight a-heading out West to land of glitter, sand, and fake breasts. Because I'm a nordic cowboy ba-by.

That was the Dayquil speaking. I'll end this before further embarrassingly bad song segue attempts are put into cyberspace.

Thanks for dropping by, now what's left of my hearing is pleading once again to the american public. Don't. Vote. For. Sanajay.

Down The Home Stretch

The state decided it was best for me to prove I can parallel park so today I shall be attempting to do so on their road test. Think the palmed $20 is a good idea here?

I kid.

I'll edit later if I become a fully licensed driver after stopping off for some Leeann Chin's sesame chicken and cream cheese puffs for lunch.


Edit: Despite the Iggy-sized space to parallel park a Trail Blazer, I passed. Who needs a sober cab? :)

Soot Bear Casino Trip

Could people please stop blowing things up larger then they really are? A guy can't make a simple prop bet anymore without the morality police showing up? At least he's not at strip clubs beating up patrons and knocking up the dancers.


Has anyone who reads here ever been to Las Vegas? Go on raise your hand if you're Sure, I'm certain the number of people currently checking the strength of their Speed Stick or Degree is in the triple digits. The Frontier is crap on the outside, worst in the casino, and gives you a bad case of scurvy if you intend on using its rooms for any slumber. I'm sure most people who have traveled to Vegas have at least checked out Gilley's or the Bikini Bull Riding just for the fact that bouncing boobs tend to the spring break and pended up married men crowd. Of which I will be both, and will be attending the city that my low rolling slot play has built next Sunday.

I know I paid for at least two palm trees along Las Vegas Boulevard.

As I was wandering the charred hallways of Black Bear casino this weekend, I was reminded of my unfortunate stay at the Frontier several years ago. The ceilings had the same burnt-out look, the walls decorated with peeling blue light special wallpaper, and the rooms with dated looks and bed that felt like a cardboard box with sheets on top. Despite the several exclamnations of “NEW RENOVATIONS!” and “UNDER CONSTRUCTION FOR THE GRANDEST CASINO!” I doubt the extra space can help this place ever feel more then an over-sized Knights of Columbus bingo hall.

Yet we go each year for the camaraderie of our bowling league to gamble a little after a no-tap tourney at Southgate Bowl. The plume of smoke hits your face as your stumble up a Marlboro flavored wind-gusting skyway from the hotel to the casino as the ventilation went south sometime during the first term of the Clinton Administration. For a greasy bite to eat the skyway café before you hit the casino floor doesn’t disappoint. $4.26 nets you an omelet the size of Human Head’s noggin with enough bacon stuffed inside that even certain baseball freak would give two oinks up, two big pieces of sourdough toast, and hash browns that would sedate most appetites.

Unfortunately that’s where the heaven stops and the true colors of the casino come out. The pool’s temperature was set to “Penguin” as little Kyra’s four teeth shivered after just five minutes and my balls were swimming in the Captain Morgan pool within my liver. But, the saving grace for my shriveled neather regions was the heated whirlpool which had some kind of I-don’t-want-to-know-what-I’m-stepping-on substance lingering on the bottom. Sadly no college spring breakers to stare at were in attendance, so the pool time was cut short for going back to the room for a nap on my cardboard box.

After the kids decided that it was time to finally pass out at night, I tried out the casino’s poker room located behind the blackjack pit. It is a smallish, bare-bones room but neat in appearance. Unfortunately, the dealers and brush decided my internet player status (I had my Full Tilt jersey on) was a signal for ridicule as my request for an Omaha game received a thousand mile stare and some off-handed “stupid internet player” comment. The only game running was two tables of $2-$10 spread limit that I’ve only played at the Excal several years ago before being introduced to people like Sklansky, Jones, Harrington, Iggy, Pauly, and Speaker. It was a fun game despite my lack of discipline when I decided to become abrasive after two beats in a row and single-digit IQ call down with 2nd pair to the best player at the table. Even a little slot and shot break didn’t my mood as I had to get up before donking off the rest of my stack. I guess only a four big bet loss could be considered a win since I was able to play for nearly four hours and get some passing conversation with my table mates despite the cold-shouldering from the staff.

Do live-only poker players really dislike those who play on the internet, or was this case of the staff emulating the casino’s drab looks?

I’ll have a second chance to test this theory in Vegas next week as I’ll go as an internet douchebag one session complete with iPod, mirrored shades, three different site-stamped pieces of apparel, and constant nagging about having to play only one table with no beeps when the action is on me.

Since I didn’t write down my ups and downs I’ll list them here to figure out how I did:

Bowling Alley:

Drinks: -$25 (god bless bowling alley with deep pours and cheap prices)

Toddler Bribes: -$3 (Skittles are a buck now? Sheesh.)

Wife: -$100 (she complained about no gambling money, no one to watch the kids, the big bill plus my intentions on nap time with the kids once we got back put a smile on her tired face)

Casino:

Poker: -$50 ($40 playing, $10 for drinks as bringing drinks from the hotel room is +EV also marked the first time I didn't tip the brush in a cardroom due his attitude)

Blackjack: -$30 (I played three hands and the dealer caught two blackjacks and a 20, a sign that I should get a job as a hot table Cooler)

Food: -$42.43 (Only ate at the café, but well worth staying away from their horrible buffet and hitting up Culver’s for a butterburger on the way home)

Slots: +$285 (this number is only positive due to being a degenerate and hitting a jackpot on the very last machine before I stumbled back to the room for non-wheelchair assisted slumber)

Wow, adding a meal and an oversized foo-foo drink for the wife to the Vegas roll next week is better then the morning-star to the wallet I got during the trip to Grand Casino. But, least I enjoyed the atmosphere while losing at Grand. Without being forced to go back, I won’t be donating to the Fond Du Lac band’s coffers at Black Bear anytime soon.

Thanks for dropping by, now if someone would like to kindly flip the doom switch back to “off” on their way out I’d appreciate it.

Rollin' In My Eight-Seven

I wanted to have a nice picture of the car that I may be using to shuttle to Pokerama's home games and providing a sober cab for Speaker (drop his site to offer some love as he's currently trying to kick cigs to the curb again).

But it remains in an undisclosed downtown location until the folks at West Coast Customs pimp out my soon-to-be-acquired 87' Cavalier which is only two years younger then my original high school car.

And I really don't care. Just having the ability again to grab a gallon of milk from Cub Foods without it becoming a two hour jaunt with the double stroller and praying that one diaper and a Spider-man baggie full of graham cracker bites was enough, is heaven.

Of course a midnight run to Canterbury wouldn't suck either.

On the casino note, my second of four such trips within six weeks is this weekend at the expanding from a bingo size penny slot trap, to a decent size casino... Black Bear. The trip to Grand Casino in the previous weeks did not provide any WD-40 while extracting mobneys from my diaper rash sore ass. The only notable part of the trip was the tortellini in cream sauce with asparagus, ham, and... thick cut bacon. Still drooling over that plate, and would gladly dump another couple hundred on the blackjack tables for a repeat performance inside my mouth.

Sadly the Black Bear's restaurant/buffet's food looks up at McDonald's in quality, so I'll have to settle on some greasy chicken fingers at their deli-styled side eatery while downing my usual quantity of Cap'n Cokes. Since the casino's promixity to the hotel rooms is only a decent long toss by an outfielder, I'll be able to crawl back to the room without any drunken chariot rides in wheelchairs while shouting STOP SPILLING MY DRINK!!!!

Thanks for dropping by, now be sure to check out the spread of bloggeristic type tourneys this evening and weekend if you have nothing better to do than curse the american public for NOT VOTING OFF SANAJAY AGAIN!!!!!!11111ONEONEONEONE.

People suck.

From Al's list:

Tournament: Riverchasers Tour Event #6
Where: Full Tilt
When: Thursday, 9pm ETGame: NLHE
Buyin: $10+1
password: riverchasers6

Tournament: CC's Thursday Bash
Where: PokerStar
When: Thursday, 9:30pm ET
Game: NLHEBuyin: $10+1
password: pokerworks

Tournament: Riverchasers Special Event #2
Where: Full Tilt
When: Sunday, March 25th 2pm ET
Game: H.O.R.S.E. Deepstack
Buyin: $24+2 or token
password: riverHorse

Tournament: WPBT Event #3
Where: Full Tilt
When: Sunday, March 25th 9pm ET
Game: Razz
Buyin: $24+2 or token
password: Bloggers only, please.

Stick Figure Fights Rule!

Blogger vs. Blogger

Does SoCo prevail over the Captain???

Read Em' and Weep

Pot Limit Omaha Eight or Better = +$13.25 (slow night)
Limit Omaha Eight or Better = -$170.00 (I hate life)

The limit variety continues to befuddle me beyond comprehension. There’s something wrong with my limit game that just doesn’t click. I’ve tried being aggressive, loose, tight, sneaky, bashful, dopey, sneezy, and doc. But, nothing seems to click for this self-proclaimed student of the four card bingo game. I’ll be back next month to try again since the wet newspaper to the nose doesn’t deter me from trying again.



Over at the PokerStars blog you’ll find a recent article by one elevator company nicknamed scribe that had a guest writer fill-in about his recent VIP package obtained through five billion hands of online poker. The package included coming to this great state to watch the Dallas Mavericks show the Timberpups what an enjoyable basketball team looks like versus one player.

Being from Toronto this statement seemed little off…

We get into Minnesota after a few hours and there are two buses. The team gets on one bus and we get on the other and go to the hotel. The hotel is in downtown about seven blocks from the Target Center. It wasnt that cold (similar weather to Toronto), but every block there was a pile of snow that had been plowed that was just massive....much taller then me. The apparently get a lot of snow Toronto had that much snow a few years ago and they called in the army to assist, but I think that it is part of life in Minnesota.

Yes, there’s snow in Minnesota it occurs eleven and a half out of twelve months, native Eskimos feel sorry for us.

The hotel is really nice. A very fancy place called the Grand Hotel. We go up to the elevator and Dirk walks out (ducking so he doesnt hit his head). We ride up the top floor to our rooms, with the massage therapist (the call him fingers). He is a really funny guy and seems like he is the father figure of the bunch. Everybody from the team is extremely nice, but he is a really outgoing guy. On the ride up he tells us about who needs a massage to work out the kinks after a game, especially on the back to back games. We get to our rooms when we realize they gave Daniel and I our own seperate rooms. We think that is pretty funny, especially when I open the door into the largest, nicest hotel room Ive ever been in. They have absolutely everything in the room, and the bathroom, is the size of my living room. A clock radio stereo system that you can plug your ipod into provides music as I fall asleep on the softest most comfortable pillow I've ever slept on.

If you're famous and in town, the Grand Hotel is where you stay, unless you're just here to hit up Shiek's, Rick's, and Deja Vu for some spray-on tan boobies.

So the next morning we get up and go grab a bite to eat. We both think that the downtown core is pretty dead. Toronto has a lot of residential mixed in with business so there are always ppl around, but the streets of Minnesota were very quiet. We see a couple of places to go eat, but its just the window and there are no doors to get in. We cant figure it out, but decide to go back to Brugger Bros that we saw earlier. On the door it says to use the mall entrance, so we see the entrance a few doors over and grab a bit to eat. We ask the guy if the mall is fairly big, because we have 6 hours to kill. He isnt sure and asks someone else and they say yeah there are a few stores. So we start to walk around the mall. At this point we realize that Minnesota is a huge underground city. Every building has a glass tunnel that connects to the next building that is on the second floor (We saw a few of these walking around but didnt put two and two together).

Ah, someone found the Skyway and City Center. Its easier to get to the different buildings downtown by using this versus one of many professional sled dog teams that act as cabbies.

Always fun to hear a perspective of someone visiting Minnesota for the first time, come back soon eh!

Thanks for dropping by, now a big round of applause for Moooooooooookie with the awesome new banner he drafted for me. And be sure to hit up his tourney at 9pm EST at Full Tilt tonight. Thanks!!

Things That Lower Your IQ

Who doesn't like seeing Daisy Duke in daisy duke's? The Cincinnati Pops that's who.

Actually Bo and Luke were going to drop by for some porchlight singin' and moonshine slingin' but since political correctness trumps common sense they were sent back to Hazard county before Uncle Jesse could wag a finger.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but did the Duke boys ever broach the slavery issue just because of the confederate flag painted on top of the General Lee?

What's next, not being able to obtain toilet paper without assistance?

Because wiping your own ass might become one of the few things you won't need a permission slip for.

UK Casinos

The following is a paid advertisement:

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With a multitude of links to various gambling destinations over the internet and land based casinos, you can find exactly what you're looking for if gambing in the UK is the subject of your search.

Something I haven't seen before called a "prize drawing" website brings you to a site probably linked with a little spam for your e-mail box in exchange for a chance to win some prizes. One such site is sporting a travel giveway with four round trip tickets anywhere. Not sure if that includes trips across the pond, but might be worth a couple of extra emails a month.

If sports betting on "proper" football, cricket, and darts (???) fits your degenerate heart, there's several links to sportsbetting sites to throw your hardly earn gambling dollars, pounds, and euros at.

Learning the various games of chance is probably the first steps towards becoming the proper "punter". So hit up the gambling rules link to find help with baccarat, poker, and blackjack.

For the beginning gambler, this website will help you gain a foothold on the various options you have to throw around those online and brick and mortar type casinos in the United Kingdom. Even the longer lasting gambler may find a few new tricks by digging into the site's different links that could yield that slot machine or juicy no limit hold em table you've been looking for

Trust Is A Four Letter Word

I’m in a weird place right now as pain and misery has been a comforting blanket for my insecurity for almost my whole life. Growing up I had my loving parents and siblings as the few bright spots of my day as they were the only reason I didn’t carve a winter hole into a lake and drop myself in. Sure I excelled at inane academic subjects in high school which received some of the first letters of the alphabet come report card time, and was known to throw a baseball slightly faster then the national average, but I was never happy.

Happy was something that occurred in short spurts. A trip to Orlando for my dad’s recognition as an employee-of-the-year complete with a $200 dinner at Epcot that none of us kids touched. Scoring a game-winning goal by making an awkward dance around a defensemen that skating coaches would shake their heads at, but ultimately proved effective since the round, black disk stood behind the red line in the net. A kiss goodnight, with a short-blonde who would play tetherball with my heart all through high school, and having that relationship end literally with a plunge.

Right now sitting at this computer I consider myself happy not just because of recent successes and triumph over non-tangible handicaps, but because I’ve learned to trust again. I don’t have to ask my wife or kids “do you still love me”. I trust my kids to still plant a kiss or hug on me the following morning despite telling a certain three year old that he had to retire early the previous evening due to lack of discipline (otherwise known as throwing a fit when told that Lucky Charms are not a part of a nutritionally balanced dinner and having some rainbow shaped marshmallows end up in creative places around the kitchen).

Hell, even my days at the poker tables are showing some enlightenment. My bankroll is creeping up towards a set goal so I can move back up in limits again. I’ve even won a few smaller tourneys which I haven’t done in quite some time. Playing on the $100 PLO8 tables is becoming easier and easier each session as the tilting off with second best hands has become less and less of a daily occurrence.

Missing 20+ outs several times in a row is part of the game, setting someone all-in and having those less then four outs spike is part of the game, and now I realize that once you’ve won, that keeping that money during the times of slim cards and outdraws is part of the game. Just because your bankroll is temporarily flush due to a tourney score or some hot cards at the cash tables doesn’t mean to drop back into some bad habits that triggered the rebuilding in the first place. Now I trust myself to stay within my game, and not throw bad money at sessions “just because I can”.

Trust is something I have been in short supply of due to my past. But, seeing all the people who drop here a give a kind word of congratulations after I have been trusted to operate a car again shows me that I can even trust those whom I can not see. And I promise next time we meet, you can trust me to be the person you read about here and not some drunk getting carted back to a wife that doesn’t want to see him.

Minus the carting part… as I do plan on enjoying myself with the company of many Cap’n Cokes and invisible internet trustworthy friends.

Thanks for dropping by, now Steve here’s the words to the Gopher fight song so you’ll be familiar with them during the Frozen Four Championship Game (since the stinkin’ Badgers have been banished back to Madison). SKOL!

"Minnesota Rouser"

Minnesota, hats off to thee
To thy colors true we shall ever be
Firm and strong, united are we.
Rah! Rah! Rah! for Ski-U-Mah
RAH! RAH! RAH! RAH!
Rah for the U. of M.
Minnesota, hats off to thee
To thy colors true we shall ever be
Firm and strong, united are we.
Rah! Rah! Rah! for Ski-U-Mah
RAH! RAH! RAH! RAH!
Rah for the U. of M.
M-I-N-N-E-S-O-T-A!
Minnesota! Minnesota!
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah GOPHERS!

Blogger Big Game

If you feel like taking Miami Don's money, hop on over to Full Tilt tonight for the "Blogger Big Game" at 9:30 pm EST.

The price of admission is one jumbo $75 peep sex token.

And the hits keep coming, I managed a 4th in the $2 MTT rebuy at Full Tilt last night (ending north of 3am) so I'm nice and awake to perform the duties of a godfather to my sister's kid's baptism today!

Hope I don't start muttering something about my poor NCAA bracket performances. R.I.P. Dooooookies.

Edit: I cannot play the Stars' Sunday Million and have $215 in tournament dollars up for sale.

SOLD!!!!

What's Next? Nailing Jessica Simpson?

This is becoming a bit too much to handle.

Operation Gimp Driver Successful

I passed the neurological exam yesterday and currently I'm the proud owner of some doctor's scribblings on important doctor-type notaries.

Today I'll barter with the DMV (no palmed $20 as suggested by Huge Junk) as to which medival torture devices they'll ring me through for the pleasure of driving around the block for a week.

I want to thank all of the well wishers from yesterday as I can't come up with more then "this is pretty fuckin cool" right now :)

I will touch a little more on this comment from PokerPeaker in a later post:

Congrats and good luck.

I can't imagine what you went through, and congrat yourself for being a cynical and funny guy instead of a bitter and prick-like person after such a shitty thing.

I have to honest when the transformation of "woe is me" and hating life didn't happen overnight, in fact you could count a few years that were lost due to self-loathing and hating that next breath I drew, not to mention a crumbling marriage. A lot has to do with our little circle of degenerates, my wife's strength, and sitting back to observe the kids.

But for now, the bar is open kids, time to par-tay!

Have a great weekend!

Drafting Richard Petty

… blink if you can hear me









… can you feel this?










… ok, turn him over please and stabilize his head








I still remember my first full-out seizure occurring at work, typing an email to my sister about having my mom’s famous breaded pork chops and twice baked potatoes as a family dinner with my wife of six months. Suddenly, a tingle came over me, and then my fingers wouldn’t respond to my command of typing my doctor’s name as I had yet another appointment at the U of M to try to figure out what was wrong with me after my accident three months ago. Finally dropping into a catatonic state for six hours in which I couldn't move nor would my limb respond to any of the usual reflex tests.

I thought due to the daily seizures had subsidizing in frequency and intensity, and the ability to make my own bagel, egg, cheese, and bacon sandwiches without fear of putting a nice hole through my hand would signal some road toward normalcy again. But, being carried out on a stretcher by two burly paramedics in the dead of winter while passing the office that yesterday I answered several “where do you see yourself in five years?” “what are you strength?” “can you really fire that third bullet on the river with Queen high?” type questions, brought a lot of things into perspective.

No longer was I the hot-shot up-and-coming worker drone being polished for promotion once I got that elusive parchment from an educational facility proclaiming I took enough credits of Advanced Jump Services in Volleyball 202 and Accounting for Bada-Bing. No longer would I come to work and see people coming to my desk asking for advice on handling a difficult guest on the phone, how the database’s reports were not working, or to give a short presentation on the department’s quality assurance findings. They were more likely to look over me with puppy dog eyes of pity.

My job became simply a struggle to show up. Imagine having the balance of Michael Spinks after a minute in the ring with Tyson, the light sensitivity of the sun shining directly into your corneas, and the speech of someone who had too many Cap’n Cokes on his birthday. Imagine starting every day with these heavy chains pinning you to Davy Jones’ Locker, and having zero motivation to try to swim to the surface because those depths didn’t provide any sunlight to reach.

Eventually through physical and occupational therapy, I was able to slowly enjoy things like playing volleyball with an ankle weight to balance myself, softball with sunglasses and a visor on so I didn’t suffer a migraine while performing a throw-hop from right field to throw out that speedy little leadoff hitter trying to stretch an extra base, or use a pen again with the assistance of a dove-shaped writing device. Those of you who met me at the Plaza in Vegas a couple of years ago may remember me wearing a visor and sunglasses, I wore that at all times for nearly four years not just to peel two cards back and ponder a three bet.

Today I’m 95% “normal” if I ever was normal which I’m sure many friends and family members would turn and have a chuckle at my expense. I don’t walk with a weight on my ankle, or use a writing device to scribble my professional athlete-esqe signature on a check.

No, today I try to brush the late bit of hinderances that the accident has caused over the years.

Today is a day I’ve been looking forward to for nearly seven years. You see, people tend to frown upon allowing drivers of motor vehicles who’s bodies spaz out at the sight of flashing lights or blackout for periods of time without warning. Per my neurologist’s suggestion that the state remove my driving privileges unless I was in a gutted 87’ Monte Carlo at the Sherburne County fair using my trunk to bust someone’s radiator to win the demolition derby heat.

The ability to drive is taken for granted by most, much like flicking on the internet to troll for busty college cheerleader porn, if you can’t do it, you feel strangely flaccid. I can’t repay all the people who have had to go out of their way for the past seven years to shuttle me to a softball game or family poker night get-together. Starting today if I pass my exam, which hopefully will not include milking the prostate, I may regain my ability to pick up a friend or two to check-raise some douchebags at Canterbury just because I can.

Thanks for dropping by, now wish me luck and I’ll let you know if your car insurance rates will be increased by .00072% because of my driver’s status being changed.

A side note to the lovely Texas April…. Let me know your Stars’ log on name so I can shuttle that buy-in to you because I'm meeting my softball team tonight for batting practice, wings, and beer thus won’t be attending CC’s Bash (see link for details).

Its All About The Angle of the Dangle

Did I finish 1st or 24th?





Avert your eyes from the boobies

After a solemn night at the cash game tables and bleeding off my early stacking of someone with a wrap straight + flush draw versus a set, and eventually ending the night on a losing note due to technical difficulties at Full Tilt, I single tabled the above tourney to see if concentration would help tune my luckbox for the evening.

It did.

"I've already won the tourney since Al dropped by"

- Me while 7th out of 7 people left at the final table

Three luckbox moments and about an hour later I take home the hammerific $72.00 first prize and start planning a new wing to the house with full-service french maid doing french maid things in a french maid outfit.

For the 35 people who played, you can blame slb159 for informing me that the second chance Wheatie was going to be worth getting three hours of sleep for. Money-wise it probably cost me more then the winnings due to staying in a juicy game until Full Tilt's hamster wheel servers crapped out, and slowly bled me of my winnings earlier in the evening. I feel for you guys working there with all these problems, but it damn frusterating on the user's end with these service regurgitations. I continue to hope for the best for our boys working in Dublin.

Thanks for dropping by, now its time for March Madness to begin!!!

Starting the Madness

I'm only going to ask one more time so my ears can cease bleeding.

Stop. Voting. For. Sanjaya. I know its funny, like tripping that dork in the high school hallways every day as he tried to carry his two tons of advanced placement books to his class funny. But it needs to stop, because karma is a bitch.

With your support of knocking out Sanjaya from American Idol (male viewers), your hair will grow fuller, you'll gain an extra two inches of manhood without the help of that Swedish dick pump or pills being touted by that freaky TV smiling guy, and you'll get laid everyday until Melinda wins.


Since I spent a good portion of yesterday in the flood plains of my basement (luckily no viable water damage) carrying an eight gallon shop-vac out to the curb, I'm going to just throw out a couple of quick pimps to Iggy who's productivity destroying ubers come through once again and Wicked Chops Poker who shockingly posted women in various stages of undress, shocking like Anna Nicole Smith dying shocking. And if naked women wasn't enough, they dug up a video I've replayed no less then 10 times in the past week with Daniel LaRusso showing the Cobra Kai's that all you need is a preppy Elizabeth Shue in your corner for inspiration to kick ass.

Thanks for dropping by, now I'm going back to filling out my NCAA tourney bracket. How can you not love Winthrop?!?!

Water Is Wet

Did you know that snow turns into water when temperatures rise above freezing? This fascinating scientific phenomenon occurred around my very home late last evening and continues this morning. I’m sure the Discovery Channel is gearing up for a trek to Minnesota to capture the growing puddles of liquid in my basement documentary style with a cool sounding gravel-voiced narrator, as the sump pump decided to sleep thru the night as it has for over six months.

Yeah, it’s usually not a good sign when the wife goes downstairs to start the car and comes back up looking like she ready to stomp on some grapes at a winery. We won’t mention any strong adjectives she used for describing the inability of our new sump pump to perform the simple task of turning on.

Did you know that a doom switch can be turned on at a live casino just as easily as the ones online. I sat in amazement of the slick haired (actually a little too slick as gel/goo/spunk was dripping onto his ruffled shirt) blackjack dealer decided to pull out eight 20s, 21s, or blackjacks in a row. This caused a little more ire then my comfort zone could handle due to the loss I already posted in the Royal Oaks poker room at Grand Casino Hinckley.

My biggest hand of the night playing 3/6 limit hold em?

T3o whos two-pair managed to avoid a flushed board and beat the lady who was playing any two but managed to have TPTK on the ten high board.

I felt bad.

Then remembered the other three hands she managed to do the same to me and called it karma as I walked away five hours later with half-buy in loss. The room was basically dead as only two tables were running since it wasn’t a tournament night and all of the local internet players couldn’t be bothered to play limit poker when they are not allowed to push their chips into the middle with a straight draw. At least the Grubby-approved Trailer Trash Monthly bottle blonde cover girl at the other table, managed to show her black thong each time she placed a wager on the felt for my enjoyment. Instead of merely placing $4 on a felt, she had to extend her rather stretched, provocatively labeled “I Like Cock” tank top over the betting line along with her chips and give the drooling moose hunters a glimpse of the store-bought boobies.

I almost asked for a table change for the free peep show, but my table wanted to give away money to people not looking down at 83o for the entire time I played. $100 for entertainment is what I’ll write it off as. As for the blackjack, that was pure shit. I think I managed a swearing streak that only the late Sam Kinison could manage. The dealer pissed me off with his lucksac abilities. The two homely looking girls managed to put out another bet every time we managed to get a good run of cards and I’d lose while they’d win their min bets. I was ripe for some serious slot tilting…

… but I remembered I have three more casino trips this month along with the need for a plane ticket.

Thanks for dropping by, now this is how you write a Vegas trip report. Take notes and hide the SoCo and your liver.

Meat Goes Mooooooooooo

Warroad 3

Albert Lea 1

April wins a free date at CC's weekly tourney (next week because I'm not going home after work). And yes I let her choose the team, I doubt it would have been fair for me to do it.

I'm continuing to make some out-of-body horrible calls at the cash games this week which irks me to no end. Posting a profitable day doesn't seem to have the same flavor when you're making bad decisions on the end. But a win is a win and I'll add it to my stacks of pennies with the good intention of joining my favorite degenerates on a trip later this year should my recent profitablity stick round for another couple of a months.



If I get sick at the casino tonight there will be a return visit to the Ruby Tuesday's as my family decided to drop by there for a meal last night. A spunky, decent looking blonde similar to that bookish blonde chick on Smallville made the first mistake of the night besides not performing a table dance in her slimming, ass clinging black uniform. She seats us next to some high stakes bingo players who were smarting over their loss afternoon session with hi-balls and seven trips to the salad bar. I didn't want to smell the Ben-Gay, they didn't want to listen to Wyatt playing tic-tac-toe with his father and throwing a few fist pumps after connecting three X's in an "L" shape design. Open space to the left, front, and right but seated right next to the only other group in the section, strike one.

Strike two took a little longer as our waiter took one too many bong hits while retrieving another gravel tasting libation for the AARP crowd and some how managed to walk by the screaming 10 month old for nearly 10 minutes. I finally instructed the wife to stick one of her lovely stems outwards to gain a two minute penalty for tripping. After our hero retrieved his writing utensil from his anal cavity, he only took another 10 minutes to retrieve a tall Blue Moon and vodka collins after watching him disappear into the kitchen and keeping a firm eye on the too-young-to-be-slinging-drinks bartender who never got our order until our overweight Spicoli handed it to her.

Then the strikeout with some high-stinkin cheese came with the meal. First the portions were slimed down to manage my adonis frame, while I appreciated the thoughtfulness, the prices remained around $10 for the bacon cheeseburger with batter fried onion shavings. Throw some slaw in or something to justify the price.

What sealed the bad night was after I cut my burger in two (which I always do since I enjoy dipping my round patty of meat into BBQ/Honey Mustard/Ketchup) and found the middle of the burger chewing some grass on the prairie. "Medium Well" was the demand from my lips to the space cadet when we finally flagged him down from the now bustiling three tables he was waiting on. He looked perplexed that I even suggested how I wanted my slab of cow done, but for a $10 burger it was my assumpion they would honor such a request.

Next time I'll busy myself with talking to the low-slung light fixtures left-over from Shakey's Pizza instead of asking for my meat not to moo back at me with every bite.

Thanks for dropping by, now I've pleaded with the morons who continue to let Sanjajerqoiwrj make my ears bleed. Don't be an assface, just vote for Jesus boy and go back to your article in Tiger Beat about who broke Ashley's heart.

And if you're rooting for Edina in today's Class AA Minnesota High School hockey starting round, I hope you fall face first into the icy pavement while getting out of your Hummer.

Things Will Go Your Way

I felt like singing a Wilson Phillips song for BG last night as I feel the pain he’s going through with his job and hope there’s more chicken and frites goodness and less corporate politics in his future. I’ve always been a firm believer in the train of thought that hard work = being rewarded for that work.

This was a poker blog at one time and occasionally I mused about playing, strategy, and how to tilt even while playing $.50/$1 limit hold em or O8. The stakes have been raised, then lowered, then raised, then Fristed, and now I’m in grind mode. Grind does not equal playing ABC poker any longer and my spreadsheet has rewarded me with more ups and downs then found at the Bunny Ranch in Pahrump during the NBA All-Star weekend. The bad part is more variance to stomach; the good part is a steady increase in mobneys.

Did it really take me almost two years to become profitable solely on the cards and not how many raked hands I could blow through? The game has finally changed for me as I actually look back at hands now and become visually disgusted by some of my actions. Sure, I’ll bitch instantly about that “suckout”, but lately I’ve been replaying those hands that I wasted money on bad reads as the bankroll killers.

Twice last night I called down in a spot between two bettors knowing I was in-between the nut low and a strong high hand. Why? Because I had notes on the opponents for being weak and what better way to battle weak players with weak cards right?

** buzzer **

Sorry Johnny, for your stupidity, you just won our complimentary home version of “I've Got A Secret” (not an entirely horrible show on the Game Show Network) in which you tell yourself your secret and giggle for hours while scrolling through high school girls’ MySpace pages convincing yourself you are special enough for Mi$$y69 to be her personal friend.

I know I blamed PokerPeaker’s ability to sit down in an IM chat with me and instantly have some cold deck wipeout my night’s profit ala Macy in the “The Cooler”. The blame was squarely on my small shoulders, for the wasted bets that should never have sent an electronic pulse to Full Tilt’s servers stating “yes I’d like to give the frog icon some money”.

Did I mention I only lost $8 after counting nearly $200 lost in stupid bets/calls? Mental toughness is something I lack when I hear something like Phil’s cat claws-on-chalkboard-performance last night on Idol. If they needed someone to butcher a song and turn the number one show on TV into Billy’s Bar and Grill Thursday Karaoke and $1 tap beer/wings night, I’ll do it for a guest spot on “Girls Next Door” as the playmate’s special, slightly geekish, chalk white personal assistant for the day.

Grotto time, for the sake humanity, will not be aired.

Thanks for dropping by, now cast your votes America… and PLEASE don’t pick that kid Sanjayeyajaeyiuy with the dog chew toy pitched voice. His 15 minutes were up once the sister got the boot.

Edit: Due to laziness and a certain baby's penchant for waking daddy up at 1am... I spaced out on Pauly's latest "Truckin" issue!

1. Slices by Paul McGuire I'd spent most of my time partying hard doing blow with C-List actors while avoiding the daylight and roaming the city late at night during one of the most rowdy benders I'd undertaken in the past few years. We were vampires, sleeping during the days and partying every night until sunrise. I would not crash until 6 AM and by the time I'd wake up, everyone on the East Cast was leaving work for the day... More

2. The Next Block by Joe Speaker The crowd was a stew of unwashed urchins. My kind of people: musicians, writers and hustlers. Feast or famine in this town; the middle class doesn't pass the velvet rope, or lead the newscasts. Sally from Chatsworth is home making fucking meatloaf... More

3. Killing Independent George by Wil Wheaton We played on for another few levels, the clatter of shuffling chips frequently interrupted by the TD announcing the exit of famous actor after famous actor. I will admit that it felt good to be outlasting them., though I will also admit that it was the most Pyhrric of Pyhrric victories: where it really counts in Hollywood, they all have their names on call sheets, while I have mine on a blog... More

4. Everything You Need to Know About Driving in LA by Change100 In order to become a true L.A. driving warrior, you will sometimes have to be the asshole. This doesn't mean you're a bad person -- it only contributes to your overall savviness. By understanding that this attitude is just an unfortunately necessary part of your own survival, inner peace will come much easier... More

5. 15 Seconds by Dan Keston With minimal experience and a microscopic budget, I found a way to make a movie about kids and guns that was not only interesting enough to be one of sixteen selections out of five-thousand entries at the most prestigious festival in the world, but also the topic of a story on NPR and the lovechild of the largest gun lobby in Washington... More

6. Three Strikes and You're In by Dr. Tim Lavalli It was then that I realized I may have made a mistake trying to have a 'break-up' dinner here. Becca's gastronomic creations always put me at ease but ease was not the best place for easily ending a relationship. Besides the vaunted 'do it in public break-up' was a cowardly way out... More

Bowling For Dollars

Four casino trips in one month.

I have a sick, Grubby-like fetish for slot machines and in need a patch or something.

Anyone have a suggestion on a plan of attack so I don't find myself trying to tunnel out of my cubical with a spoon to go on a much anticipated trip in September? The only way I can afford the trip is if I manage to make it through these four trips without putting a serious dent into my relatively meager bankroll:

Grand Casino Hinckley (Poker room, bar, going with only the wife who only plays slots)

Black Bear Casino (Will be trashed from bowling tourney, small poker room, going with mom who gets free showtickets at Mystic Lake for playing strickly penny slots)

Las Vegas staying at MGM Grand (I hear they have a salad bar and Krispy Kremes **this trip worries me the most**)

Treasure Island Minnesota (Willl be trashed from a bowling tourney, going with brother-in-law who splits tens with a dealer ten showing, they do have a small poker room that I have not given away money at yet)

I ask thee wise and powerful gambling sages for thy knowledge. Amen.

Thanks for dropping by, now did anyone have Nadia going to the final four for the NBC Heads-up Championship? Me thinks its the year to pick a mid-major for Pauly's pool.

Is That What Metrosexual Smells Like?

My instinct is telling me someone won’t want to watch Sportscenter this morning. And what will happen to Posh’s TV show?!?! THE HORROR! Of course the knee injury could just require some ice and a Swedish rub and tug to get this national treasure back to booting free kicks for $250 million.

I love this line from from Gary Lineker on Beckham’s move to the States…

“Of course, bringing back Beckham, who has 94 caps, could only be considered a short-term fix because, when he moves to the United States in the summer, he is going into semi-retirement.
"That is what is happening. I know what it is like because I went through it when I moved into Japanese football.
"The standards will be lower and he will be a long way from home. That will definitely be the end for him."

Wish I could make $250 million while semi-retiring. Maybe I’ll just win the WSOP Main Event ten times in a row while qualifying each year via a forty frequent player’s point freeroll on PokerStars. If Stars is still around when I’m busy counting the number of smallmouth bass and PBR’s left in my livewell on a Wednesday afternoon while living off my reverse annuity funded by porn stock and recycled diet coke with lime cans.

That’s also assuming the WSOP doesn’t crumble into nothingness by the time I retire. Might even be a stretch that the WSOP (as we know it) would last until Wyatt gets his first detention for mooning the teacher after disagreeing with her views on global warming in a few years.

Everyone else have a good weekend? Anyone need two feet of snow to get their snowboarding itch scratched? I got plenty of the white stuff and no yellow snow unless the deer in my backyard couldn’t make it back to their outhouse. Was fun sledding once we navigated to the hill through almost waist-deep powder, of course that meant bringing Wyatt back up the hill in his sled giving me and the spouse a badly needed workout (one month to Las Vegas and frightening people with our ghost white complexions).

As for poker, I started the weekend off with hating life while cursing the RNG, and ended on a slightly higher note as I booked a profitable weekend and started collecting tokens for a run on those Full Tilt bracelet races. The WSOP PLO8 tourney is $1,500 and the only way I’ll play is to win one of those bracelet race packages. Since I hate spending more then $20 for a tournament buy-ins, tokens will be my ticket to the Rio this summer.

I was going to pimp the Pokeronmac freeroll from last night but something strange happened on the way to iPod nirvana… Full Tilt’s servers decided to crap out.

Again.

On a Sunday when their biggest tourneys are running.

C’mon guys, I know how hard you’re working but this isn’t helping retain old players while market grabbing the new ones without the help of Jesus’ samba dancing skillz. Site stability should be priority number one in these skittish times, make it happen as Stars still pulled in 6,700+ for their Sunday Million.

I usually type after a bad beat… “unreal” which describes my shock that my gamble didn't work but it also shows my confusion as to how their Sunday tourney manages to get stronger and stronger. On the cash game side.. its too bad the PLO8 sharks are starting to swim in my little $100 6-max ponds as I’ve enjoyed a good run on those tables lately (knock on wood).

A final question to those with little tax deductions running/crawling around the house… your child wants to play after you’ve spent the past two hours re-setting the plastic pins of his Fisher-Price bowling set and now its time for your weekly dozing off during whatever golf tourney is on.

How do you say “no, daddy needs to pass out”?

Looking into his eyes, so eager to play, it hurts to refuse his unlimited energy while my tank is sitting firmly on “needs a nap”.

Thanks for dropping by, now those people who enjoy Minnesota High School hockey… Burnsville walked away from top ranked Holy Angels over the weekend with the state regional title. Think Gophers losing to Holy Something in last year’s NCAA hockey tourney and you’ll get the same feel for the upset.

Edit: The state tourney starts Wednesday... I wondered why I couldn't find the championship game on this weekend. And yes Mike, no Spuds :(

Blogger Pods 2!

I’m registered in the free BloggerPods poker tournament Online poker

Ok, include one more donkey. :)

Have Shovel, Will Travel

Wife got a snow day, I got a shovel day.

After shoveling the equivilent of more first downs then the Vikes offense could manage this


year, there's a TV and a baby calling my name for the rest of the weekend.

I'll Take "Things That Shouldn't Matter" for $400, Alex

More nauseating:

The daily reality show about Anna Nicole's death (see any Hollyweird "TV Magazine" show or E!)

or

A show about Posh Spice picking out a new ottoman for her recliner while she thinks about finally eating a sandwich this week.

or

Taking a big gulp of orange juice when you were expecting milk.

Make sure you're keeping up with the Pokernews crew for their L.A. Classic coverage... JC Tran continues to lead but WSOP Main Event runner up Paul Wasicka is close behind in second. Daddy-approved CHOW GANG! has made another WPT final table, he's the short stack when the cameras light up today for the final table.

Thanks for dropping by, now do I really have to acknowledge that Maigrey's pep talk with me last month about not taking shots without having the proper bankroll to not care about a few stackings helped me have a solid in-the-black month on the cash game tables in February?

Say it ain't so. I hate it when she's right.

And if you've been living under one of Anna Nicole's 100% real tities... Iggy is back and ubering under the old, ratty blanket that puts a smile on your face and a stripper in your lap while you dream. Welcome back Guinness and Poker damnit!

Carrot > Wheaton Trolls

Granted its a shitty way to boot people, but aren't sororities private clubs that have hand-picked their members for over a century? Its like giving trophies to the losing team of a baseball tourney, the kids don't learn the rewards/consequence of competition and are softened to the point where just participating is enough, the sorority exclusions is just another example of this type of upbringing.

I participated in the final table on the Wheaton Bucks 2nd chance tourney, and was the bubble boy after three hours, where's my participation ribbon?

Tough luck Drizz, come back another time (and I will). And how Wil puts up with those mouth-breathing, burger flipping, MySpace tween trolls is beyond my scope of patience. I was at his table for most of the night, kudos to you for keeping your cool like that. That has to go way beyond the job description to put up with eleventee billion (Wil's phrase) questions about why he's not crushing the $50/$100 NLHE game. Higher stakes != better player, but the trolls only see the blingz of the $1,000 check-raises versus a $5 MTT and they'll never learn it as you'll still get challenged to a HUs match with the 5th grade wordsmith.

Speaking of 5th Graders... that UCLA grad majoring in History and spacing out on every question to him during the new quiz show on Fox?!?!? Sad world we live in. It will be even sadder if the curry-flavored Michael Jackson is allowed to come back next week on Idol. I curse the houses who vote for him.

Vegas was up the whole night so I'll going to drift off into zombie, cubical land as there's endless work to be done (actually I enjoy that).

Thanks for dropping by, now I'm not the Starbucks-type who infuses their work morning with a $7 halfa-frappa-mocha-double-expresso-64 oz. coffee, how do you get moving without caffeine when working on zero sleep?

Self Pleasures Over Chicken Pot Pie

I am a simple man and generally happy. But, there are things during the week that are not to be fucked with and cause me great anger if tampered with.

Seeing my kids’ smiles while coming through the front door after work, a Ward Clever moment for sure, but nothing relives tiredness faster then an eight month old’s hockey smirk while holding onto the safety gate at the front steps.

My perfectly made Captain and Coke on Thursday nights while reclining in the porch with future donators preparing to funnel virtual dollars into my quasi-legal online poker accounts.

Saturday morning breakfast, consisting of at least two to four meats, eggs, potatoes, and cheese to be fried up together over a little bit of olive oil while watching Thomas the Tank Engine and Sagwa with the kids.

Porn time later at night with a selection of peppermint lotions and fisting lesbians (hat tip to Mr. Bracelet on that find) while three tabling the $100 PLO8 tables. Don’t worry I sit out while cleaning up.

But there’s something yesterday that tilted my little space on Earth, as I do not consider myself an anti-social person despite the appearance as such with my hearing disability. While at work I take my lunch hour a little sooner then most to sit alone and enjoy a chocolate chip cookie, the Star Trib, and whatever leftovers my wife shuttles along (today is a decent score from my sister-in-law’s birthday dinner at Famous Dave’s, including a not-so-horrible beef brisket, corn bread muffin, and skin-on mashed taters). I sit alone because its my alone time during the day, much like if I get the privilege of throwing countless play chips at people who raise with Q554 and stack off on a straight draw (got notes, will get his mobneys next time), later at night after Wyatt has been read his alphabet book of the evening and Vegas gets her late night snack of Gerber’s sweet potato puffs.

Alone time is a precious commodity to me, not unlike gold, t-bills, or a Playboy Playmate’s rack. The time I spend alone when you’re surrounded by others for nearly the whole day gives me the space needed to refuel myself, which sounds selfish but losing your self-awareness would hurt the relationships in my life if I became a colorless 9 to 5er with the same set schedule and routine each day.

As I sat down yesterday to my plate of reheated chicken pot pie from Costco (highly recommended even renuked) there was a little bird who flew in five minutes after I sat down at the opposite end of adjacent four seat tables. I nodded politely and went back to reading about the Wild kicking Edmonton’s ass via the Rolston/Gaborik/Demitra tri-headed scoring monster. Then like crows on an electrical wire more little (and large) birdies starting filling up the seats until the table was full.

My feathers were officially ruffled. I know it’s an inane problem, solvable by moving to another seat, but couldn’t they have moved to one of the other 100+ tables in the lunchroom that were not occupied at the time and not popped my personal space bubble?

Perhaps. But, they were following their routine as well, as they sit at the same table every day in the same seats. Who was more at fault for changing someone else’s routine? The ladies who failed to see the curmudgeon luncheon consumer, or the guy who just wanted to learn a little bit about Mathew Lecroy’s potential return to the Twins in peace.

Today I may try something different and sit in the middle of the table to see if they flock around me or fly away to other spaces easily reached. But, then I wouldn’t get my alone time.

Thanks for dropping by, now if you wanted to know how Miami Don became Vegas Don, please hit up a very well-written self-exploring piece at his site. Bravo sir, and hopefully will see you in about a month.

I Gamble Therefore I Am

Work, ass, kicking.

Getting much done, but still falling further behind. I think I finally have the job I want :)

Poker theme for the weekend:

Cash games, good.

Tourneys, bad.

Sorry to disappoint Don, short stacks don't make for interesting PLO play since you have to hit your draw (or they have to miss), and can't play many speculative hands before you're committing your whole stack. Excuses excuses I know, maybe next time I'll fare a little better.

On a happy note I cashed in a Stud H/L dollah tourney which kept me from getting back to my new Zelda obsession. I knew that Wii would curb my poker addiction, only to fall into another one :) At least this vice will only cost me a few hours of time versus the hair pulling agony of watching some mouth breather take your stack of hardly earned dollars/rupees/pounds/euros because "he had a feeling".

Actually I still like poker.

So much in fact, I will be playing a lot of it live (relatively) in the next coming month:

March 8th: Comped room and St. Louis Ribs dinner at Grand Casino Hinckley (thanks to dropping a little too much on the slots in my previous visit). This time I'm parking my ass in the three seat and will not be temped by those Monopoly "Big Event" slots.

March 24th: Black Bear Casino/Bowling tourney, cheap drinks and bad bowling at the alley, then poker at their smallish room tucked behind the blackjack pit where no slots are within easy reach. Have never won here, but I've got a feeling this time that my gutshot straights and backdoor flush draws will be coming in. Or I'll get drunk and blow my bankroll on the penny slots.

April 1st: Vegas. No April Fools joke here, wife wanted to go, we had a chat about the previous visit (both of our attitudes and my alcohol tolerance sucked) and we're staying at MGM Grand for the week plus seeing the Crazy Horse (formerly La Femme) show. I heart boobs. I don't have a cell phone (will have a number to call) but I'd like to meet up with some fine Vegas bloggers if you're available for donkey poker and a bite to eat on one of the days.

Thanks for dropping by, now can you believe that it snowed in Minnesota yesterday??

Shocking.

And my groin pulled attest to the dangers of pulling a toddler in a sled up a hill several times without performing some proper stretching, like this young lady.

That's Great Hon

Nothing says love like having sex and five minutes later cleaning up grape kool-aid, bacon, and scrambled eggs puke off the carpeting and your kid's stuffed animals in the living room.

Tonight PLO @ Full Tilt 9 p.m. EST.

Token tourney for WPBT Event #2.

I Did Not Win The Mookie

Shaving your head seemed like a good idea at the time (can't she just go back to catholic school girl outfits and bald beaver shots?)...

... much like trying to resteal with Q4o late in a tourney and having your opponent turn up KK. Thought it was a good idea at the time, but it backfired much like if Michael Richards was trying to tell a racist joke at the Apollo.

I R s.m.r.t.

At least I was able to snag the Mookie tourneys buy-in plus a shrimp dinner at Red Lobster for two including a Lobsterita via cash games prior to releasing my inner donkey near the final table. The second chance tourney ended with me as the final table bubble boy when my starting 3 4 5 made an 8, only to be beat by a better 8. I may or may not hit up CC's tourney tonight

A note to those who think they are degenerate gamblers: This woman puts you to shame.

The case of a 10-year-old boy left unattended and without money at the Mall of America in Bloomington on Friday while his mother went gambling at Mystic Lake Casino in Prior Lake is a rarity, police said.

Unescorted teens at the mall, however, are not.

Mall security officers found the boy about 7:30 p.m. Friday. His mother had left him there before noon with an unlimited-ride wristband for the theme park -- but no money, said police Cmdr. Jim Ryan. When security workers couldn't reach his mother, they called police, who had her paged at the casino after 9 p.m., Ryan said.

The 43-year-old woman, who had been staying at a Bloomington women's shelter, told police she couldn't get back to the mall until the midnight shuttle bus left the casino.

Well played ma'am.

Thanks for dropping by, now if you wish to fuel your gambling ways, drop by PokerPeaker's site to bet on the delivery date of his soon-to-be twin terrors.

I'll Take Whatawinner In the 8th For $20 WPS

Being very green to the political arena... do Reps really push this sort of narrow-minded crap thru the legislative halls? Tubing and beer go hand-in-hand, luckily the best tubing in the area is on the Apple River in Wisconsin away from nanny attempts such as the ones included in that posting.

Sound familiar?

Ok, no more woe is online poker posting, I'll leave those stories at my other blog. Speaking of which, I did manage a short Omaha think-tank type post last night if you're into the four card game. You can check it out here.

Like many others, work is kicking my ass so I'm cutting this short and without any pretty metaphors to describe my new found addiction. American Idol. I have much hate for those who turned me and the wife towards watching that damn show. Feel free to give yourselves a wedgie or something. (I think the barefoot dude and Indian kid are going to get the boot)

Thanks for dropping by, now Gary Carson provides an excellent arguement about how a carve-out for online poker doesn't help anything because the payment processor issues would still persist. My counter-arguement is... what wouldn't the same processors currently used by LEGAL online wagering sites such as YouBet.com be used by the poker sites (which are correctly noted as still legal despite the UIGEA). Which he responded to, excellent thought process.

Speaking about horsey wagering... one of my favorite jockeys at Canterbury has been barred from Tampa Bay Downs for unspecified reasons and is finally getting back to work recently at Hawthorne and will hopefully be returning to Canterbury this summer. BG, did you hear about this?

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