Anyone have a clue I can borrow? Suburban dad with stupid parenting stories, and occasionally plays poker variations that make Hold Em' players seize up from confusion.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Fuck You Andy Reid
Takes out Garcia after I place a bet on the Eagles.
Fuck you sir (second prize goes to Tony "Floam" Romo for the outstanding performance against Detroit Rock City causing this Eagles/Falcons game to become junk).
Eight hours till the ball drop, and I'm getting on my holiday cheer before seeing the guys tonight for some cigars, some drinks, and some stories about past parties at the townhouse while slacking off Econ 101 again. Its funny how a group of guys that used to play Euchre while downing a liter of Tanqueray while counting the hours till McDonald's opened for breakfast could be mixing up Oatmeal cereal while making sure they brought some Desitin for their baby's raw ass.
Have a great New Years everyone, I hope that any tilt you may have going on in your life exits as liquor flows at least for one night.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Bloggers Made Me Buy It
Johnny Drama: He quit cigarettes, not pussy (as Eric exits with Ari's new hot assistant)
Why O why don't I have HBO?!?!?!
I know I'm like 15 years behind, but watching Entourage season 1 has been awesome, can't wait for season 2... which will start around 3:00pm CST.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Math Is Hard
Lose *cough* $XXX.XX *cough* playing slots - earn $10.40 in comps
Equals "Why-the-fuck-do-I continue-to-play-those-damn-slots"
At the poker was fun, especially chatting it up with a regular to the game for most of the time and dragging a couple of big pots with junk cards when the odds were there.
And a side note... people playing blackjack in the high limit area are in one of three catagories:
1) Egotistical frat boy with hanger ons with fake tits, fake personalities, or fake sense of style
2) Grumpy old gambler that took a shower when it was stylish to crimp your hair while wearing leggings singing "What A Feeeeeeeeeling" and calling everyone "gnarly"
3) Asian players with no regards to the denomination of the chips or the 50 different languages they speak away from the table
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas To All
Merry Christmas everyone, and hope you and your families have a safe holidays with lots of monies bet on the Cowboys today...
Did I jinx them enough? :)
Be back on Wednesday as the wife was kind enough to let me use a comped room up at Grand Casino Hinckley tomorrow.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Things That Make Your French Toast Come Up
Stuff him full of shots or...
Go on a Brett Farve wank-fest like the kind folks at ESPN, after an unimpressive win over the purple last night. Green Bay vs. the Vikes used to be a $150 bar tab complete with sore throat from taunting that guy in the torn Reggie White jersey.
Last night I fell asleep to Collinsworth's droning by halftime.
At least Williamson didn't disappoint as he switched from granite to marble hands for Lambeau Field last night. Way to earn that 1st round draft pick pay check kiddo.
Having a 6-9 record is one thing... losing both games to Green Bay? Unacceptable.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Lea Thompson Has a Nice Ass
Hindsight is a killer.
A plus $300 night turned into a negative $120 night because of one “correct” fold. We’ll forget the quads hitting on the river and that my opponents went into a who’s-got-a-bigger-wang raising war with very weak holdings and draws. But alas, my account balance went down, his went up nothing special. Move on to the next night and try again. I think situations like that build up sludge on a poker player. Over time those close calls, those should-coulda-woulda moments, and of course its easy to pick out those bad beats as offenders.
The sludge lessen a desire to play, much like a hangover can lessen your desire to live the next morning while curled up on a cold floor cursing yourself for accepting those last body shots from the hot chick with test tubes and ten dollar fluorescent flashing knick-knacks that seemed like a bargain at the time. Poker is a game of forgive and forget, letting those “bad beats” weigh in your head like the time you woke up next to someone that resembled more Sasquatch and less the Jessica Alba stunt double you picked up last night, will kick any desire you have of slinging cards the next night.
Right now me and poker are on happy terms, I play, she takes, I buy-in, she asks "are you done yet?". But, I’m enjoying the game once again and have been despite my less-then stellar results. After all if you can’t enjoy the game, why play? If you resent logging on and/or sitting down at the felt you’re already behind those players who want to play and are there to take your hardly earned monies. The thrill of chasing that “easy” money has not died down despite my lack-luster December and the reason is change.
I’ve changed how I play. No longer do “bad beats” really effect me, I chalk it up to variance and move on to the next hand/table/tournament. Instead of saying: “OMFG WAFFLES HIT A TWO OUTER ON THE RIVER U FUCKIN SUCKASS DONKEY!!!11111”. I viewed it as “the money went in pre-flop, I was an 80/20 percent favorite and got outdrawn”, have a nice night. A lot of people don’t step back and see the circumstances behind the calls, raises, and folds, instead focusing on the end result which will only lead to expletives flying faster then an Andrew Dice Clay stand up routine. Or calling others names in which they didn’t earn.
(a side note about Mr. Clay’s appearance in “Causal Sex?”… why were there no boobs but several ass shots? I mean I enjoyed SNL-alumni Victoria Jackson and Lea Thompson’s back-side curves but a movie about sex without the necessary nipple shot? Lame.)
Some people “get it” and move on to a better enjoyment of the game. They see an unfavorable outcome and think “hmmmm, did I make the right call, raise, or fold?”. Others dwell on “that hand cost me $500 because the LAG-tard raised me off my hand” and end up becoming numb to the nightly beatings, become apathetic towards the game and lose all enjoyment.
I know, because I was there four months ago.
After playing some video games (Max Payne is an excellent pixelized aggression release) and working out a schedule where I could get the most daddy-time in; the lock’s tumblers fell into place. Whether this rebirth of excitement for pokery-type things lingers long enough to lose the rest of my bankroll remains to be seen.
Thanks for dropping by, now I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and that Pappy returns my call today for some choice dried beef. No spicy stuff Mr. Bracelet?
P.S. There's 1:9 odds in favor of accepting the blogging gig after chatting with a couple of friends last night.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Color Me Rad
Has everyone baked up those cornflake wreaths and almond bark dipped pretzels yet? Still going to work over the holidays?
Yeah me too, but with the alignment of the holidays and must-use vacation time, I managed to get from the 22nd to the Fiesta Bowl off for a fraction of "vacation" hours. Who wants to go to Vegas????
Just kidding. Well, not really kidding, but I'm sure if I hopped on a plane the marital bliss I'm experiencing with a sick-with-a-cold wife at the moment would be a tad less blissful.
I received something last night that startled me a little bit since I draft incoherant babble on here daily for reason unknown to even myself. I'm sure many of our blogging brethren have received these offers of writing for a site and receiving compensation, but this was a first for this tall hick from nordic suburbia. Frankly, the thought of getting paid to write with my English comprehension skills that rival someone tackling Moonbeams in grade school, frightens me. Honored of course to be selected, but since I don't post about how my AA26 double suited went down to someone overplaying their KKxx each day, or how to successfully bluff off all your chips to a calling station (I'm a world class player in that regards), I don't feel comfortable accepting an offer like this.
Those scribes like Pauly, Otis, Jason, Iggy, Joannnnnnnnnnda, Wil, Hoy, Dan, April, CJ, Change100, have the backgrounds and the talent to be compensated for their transcription of this silly little game we all play. Me? I like to talk about my family and discuss ways of getting Wyatt out of Dave and Busters after all the points on the card are used up without setting off a Defcon 3 level tantrum.
Any suggestions on whine-deflection tactics?
But... if anyone wanted to send me to the World Series of Poker, I'm sure exceptions could be made :D
Thanks for dropping by, now I'd get a gauge on an appropriate gift for my boss. I found a birdhouse at a craft store that seemed like a nice gift. Too tacky? Too ghey?
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
"We're Going To Hooter's After This, Right?"
Picture taken by my father-in-law
Chandler Bing has nothing on Wyatt's cheesy smile.
Sorry but everyone will be subjected to kids pics for the next few days while I fend off everyone's cold/flu and cut back on the poker play so I can sleep for a few hours before shuttling people nyquil and more bedtime stories.
Can anyone help me find some Pappy Kershenstine beef jerky for the Bracelet? Searched the Mall of America this weekend after the Santa pic above was taken (and an hour wait) and a few meat shops in my area, got air.
Thanks for dropping by, now wade through the seven deadly sins with Pauly at your own risk.
And play this game until your mouse wrist can't take anymore: Current high score 25 seconds
Edit: Best part of that sick 120 page 2+2 thread... "Captain Tom" makes the dictionary
Monday, December 18, 2006
Baby Its Cold Outside
Is it yet another layer of blankets to protect you from the elements?
Everyone has life happen to them. Unless you're watching 24 hour re-runs of Hollywood Squares and Little House on the Prairie with that nine inch black and white Tee-Vee with aluminum foiled rabbit ears down in mommy and daddy’s basement, come on up to enjoy this twisted reality most of us go through daily.
I try to incorporate a little poker into my postings because it is my favorite hobby despite the urge to use my laptop as a frisbee at times. The cash games have not treated me well lately, actually I’ve done rather poorly due to tired calls when I’m beat, and fancy level 26-type plays at pots that only the latest Intel microprocessor would be able to figure out.
Good weeks, bad weeks, and weeks that you have to call upon your backup quarterback to stop the booing despite giving up on your horrid season of mis-management of resources (I'm looking at you Mr. Run-Taylor-Middle). Luckily I have a bankroll that I keep within to absorb any slap shots to bare shins and still limp away with nothing more then some discolored skin and a slight limp. But, to a former hockey player who’s used to taking such abuse, its shrugged off like a forgotten mosquito bite after the itching dies down.
At what point while playing poker are you able to look back at a board which your opponent was drawing to two outs and say “Nice game sir” after the river card turns your winning hand into paper mache and actually mean it? When do the twinges of “bad beat” pain become nothing more taking a little bigger gulp of hot coffee then your mouth could handle?
Sure layers of protection help fend off things like cold toes and STD’s but in poker don’t you want to feel a little bit alive when your 95% didn’t come in? Having a one-way express ticket to Tiltsville isn’t healthy for any bankroll, but if you don’t enjoy the thrill of the gamble nor care a little about winning or losing what’s the point of playing unless you transfer your lockbox chips from Commerce over to Wells Fargo for the mortgage payment?
I found a little excitement this weekend despite my ledger running red on the poker side. My dad’s side of the family gets together for Christmas each year at an undisclosed location. Yes, I said Christmas not “the holidays” or any other goddamn stupid ass PC-ish crap. Ho ho ho and a bottle of Captain Morgan rum. This year was a little different as the clan decided to head up north near Brainerd to my uncle’s home on a lake. Despite the extremely warm temperatures lately, we were able to partake in a little skating and boot hockey action. Since my work accident I really have not played hockey (almost six years) and even while goofing off on a secluded lake with a hockey stick half the size it should be for someone of my height, it felt like biting into a perfectly made chicken wing or melting into your couch with no agenda other then dreams about hitting the $5,000 spot on the Wheel of Fortune and asking Vanna to turn over all of the P’s in the phrase “Peter Piper Picked A Pack of Pickled Peppers” while holding a trip to Maui for solving the puzzle.
The rush of cold air while skating fast outdoors is in infusion of oxygen that you won’t find through the tubes at your local mall oxygen bar for $15. Laughter coming from my son as he begs me do spin him across the ice while donning a bright yellow Cooper hockey helmet with a bulldog sticker on the back, gives me hope that the future looks to be better then the past. Another layer of warmth added to shield off any anger that arises after he gets up for fourth time during the night with a new excuse as to why he won’t go to sleep. Bathroom, thirsty, “my show is on”, and cold feet were the reasons if you’d like to know. All said with the same soft innocent voice that you couldn’t possibly irked at even if you didn’t notice flushing a buy-in down the tubes because those baby-blue eyes needed more attention.
Maybe someday I’ll have grown a thick enough layer of immunity to tilt to do nothing more then sigh at a board and reload the way Wyatt looks after grabbing for a cookie in the cookie jar but coming up with air.
Thanks for dropping by, now here is natural selection at its finest. Nice job Ted, you just may win the Darwin award this year.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Because it was a LIMIT tourney, final table bubbles suck. I blame the Princess for any and all headaches acquired today at my family celebration of Christmas near Brainard today.
Have a good weekend folks... and bet the Falcons over Tony Romo's Ribs and Chicken today.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Jotting While Dotting
At least she was happy the next day after a few choice drinks at the Geisha Bar :)
And to Princess Maigrey who told me last night if I didn’t show some love that she’d introduce her rather large dog to my fat cat that runs about as fast as an AMC Pacer with a clogged carburetor.
Now, the PokerPro/PokerTek party bought forth a new way to play poker in casinos, and to be totally honest I can see this thing getting extremely hot with bar poker. Hopefully the marketing crew over there has considered this. No cards or chips for the drunks to handle, no more wondering who finished in 27th place for those all important bar league points feeding into that huge $100 freeroll at the end of the year, and turning the tourney director’s job into a techie position vs. a babysitter for grown-ups.
I know state gaming laws, wonderful government-types like Bill Frist, and religious right wing-nuts will probably get their granny panties in a twist, but the ease of use for something that isn’t going away (bar tourneys still packing the people in every night, even after three years of starting) just makes sense.
As for casinos… hello Pot Limit Omaha 8 or better SnGs without headaches! Hello heads-up matches for all the juice and none of the slowdown of taking up floor space and dealer’s time!
Granted the PokerPro/PokerTek interface was a tad confusing with all the confirming and reconfirming your actions. But, I’m sure with feedback from more live players and those of us who play poker from an interface every night there can be a mesh of ideas to find the easiest to use screen.
By the way, this was not a paid advertisement, just a jotting that I enjoyed the product and hope they make their way into Canterbury and/or some bars. The two bar tourneys I played in featured some horrible structures mainly due to people who couldn’t shuffle up and deal within the time it takes for your girlfriend/spouse to get ready for another wedding reception of that neighbor she grew up with but hasn’t seen for 10 years.
Tomorrow I promise to post a few pics before I head off to the Mall of America for kids pics with the only mall Santa who isn’t a total douchebag and worth sitting in line for 90 minutes. And god willing, wings at Hooters afterwards.
Lets us pray to the all-mighty orange and silicone gods (which I didn't get to see while in Vegas :sobs: ).
Thanks for dropping by now if you were not able to drop by the PokerPro/PokerTek party, here’s the link to the site.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Fifteen Minutes of Fame
Feeling blue once again Sunday morning, encased in a fog of lack of sleep, uneasiness about my poor attitude displayed after the tourney, multiplied by the spouse’s lingering guilt-trip (which she has since spoke up about and everything is back to “normal”) made for a Vegas trip that didn’t quite live up to expectations up to that point. There was no sex with midget strippers behind the Geisha Bar while getting cheered on by the Christina Aguilera look-a-like with her spandex shorts shoved somewhere north of her shoulders. I never made that “big bet” (very relative) that I’ve always wanted to. Most importantly, I didn’t get to hang out with the bloggers as much as I’d like do.
This unknown funk surrounded me after the first night, maybe due to the last of the shots finally working their ways through my circulatory system. But the funk never went away; I didn’t feel like “raging solo” despite several opportunities to do so after the wife headed to bed around midnight each night. I did stop several times do take in a panoramic view of the going-ons, watching people bet $10,000 a roll at craps, admiring yet another chick who felt the need to display more skin then the waitresses, the excited slot player who just hit the bonus game by lining up three Mr. Monopoly’s on a payline and won $42.
The magic of Vegas surrounded me, yet I was unable to break away from my own guilt of disappointing the wife and then myself on Saturday.
But, then there was football at the IP (avert your eyes BG, link orgy forthcoming)…
The Rooster was there to remind me how much his ‘Boys and Romo-mania were superior to the lowly Vikes and not missing a beat to hit on the blonde waitress at the same time. Nice job holding the Saints to five TDs!
Through my thoughtlessness, I never thanked April for her tireless work on getting this herd of cats together once again. So, I’m doing it now. Thank you. I hope you don’t feel burnt out by fun you enabled everyone to have (how did the test go…).
Gary, I apologize for not getting you off Pai Gow tilt soon enough, and hope you’ll consider coming out for the next shindig as I’ll demonstrate the level of drunkenness necessary to get free rides in a wheelchair after setting a Jack-high Pai Gow for the fourth time in a row
Speaker, Bobby Bracelet, BG, StB, F-Train, Pauly, Derek and Daddy I wish there was an infinite time to hang out and get your opinions on the best technique on embarrassing a hooker (but it sounds like Daddy worked his magic already…). $17???? I’m sure BG would ante up at least $20.
To the blogfather, WHO DEY! And that help with PLO8 is open offer redeemable at anytime I’m online just not trying to feed Vegas while playing penny slots :) Thank you again for all the memories past, present, and future due getting me to draft posts with this broken internet pencil.
Easycure, what happened to dem Hawks?!?!!? I appreciate the birthday card you and Mrs. gave me and congrats on Gigli!!
Senor Otis, mucho gracias for pointing out that hot chocolate can be a manly drink at the tables after a long night of wheelchair riding. Although hot tea with honey was pushing it.
In the he-was-nicer-then-I-thought department, Chilly turned my head with the conversations we had at the poker table at Caesar’s and before my infamous run at the IP. I look forward to the next time we meet up, and promise not crack those Kings again. I’m thinking we’ll have to meet up at Grand Casino Mille Lacs or Hinckley sometime this summer if the logistics allow it. Volleyball Chicks > *
The goatee’d one with “Falstaff” on his Full Tilt jersey… yeah you with sweet wife and PBR in hand, still amazed of the gift, thank you very much!!
Gracie and Sweet Sweet Pablo, don’t lose those smiles and Pablo… keep her away from the kitchen utensils next time m’kay?
To Al, the walking party, and actually getting my wife to crack a smile the morning after my ah-hem lack of alcohol tolerance AND getting her to discuss a possible trip to PA in Sept?!?!?! I stand amazed. SAN DIEGO SUPER CHARGERS!
To all the bloggers that got kicked by Vegas’ ass last weekend, I hope to see your thousand mile glares at the tables at our next meeting there, official WPBT event or not.
Thanks for dropping by, now be sure to hit up some of the links on the right for more trip posts and reports. But, do yourself a favor and hit up Dawn’s recall about the poker weekend while in Hell. Sadly, I didn’t get to share any table time with those two vixens from “I Had Outs” but then again I like keeping my poker money. But, if I need a bankroll bump, I could always let Dawn bluff her stack off to me :)
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Do You Sudoku? WPBT Winter Classic Part 1
Could also be the working title of watching me play poker for the past week. Slowly losing back what I won in the previous month has been a little disturbing and contributed to my not-so-minty-fresh attitude on Saturday. The adventure in Vegas started off with smiles and optimism abound. If you don’t step off that plane with a grin similar to the one sported after eating some damn good beef jerky or seeing some boobies by pure chance on your television set, there’s really no hope to enjoy yourself in the city of sin. The whole Vegas state-of-mind that “I’m going to win” or “I’m going to party until I end up in a wheelchair” once the badly coifed flight attendant gives you a tepid “good luck” as you stash away that JR Davies’ signed Shrum Bowl XXVI collector’s edition book in your PokerStars carry-on bag, its necessary to enjoy four full days of watching people spend beyond their means just because the alcohol is free, and the women don’t care that you’re staring.
The Folies Bergere show on Thursday night was a mild disappointment at first as the beginning started like watching my sister’s dance recitals, except topless. Which is a mildly disturbing thought that may require several years of applying a brillo pad to my brain. But in the end you do get your money’s worth with the 32A-cup toting showgirls walk through the decades and a decent song and dance on the side. One question… was the lead “singer” possibly lip-synching? I can read lips fairly well and there was definitely a visable/audiable delay between her lips moving and music coming out, not Ashlee Simpson/Saturday Night Live bad, but definitely a difference.
After the show I had the fever for the flavor of a Pringle. I had the motivation to have a good time as I was seeing people who have given me a network of friends that don’t judge me based upon my inability to hear requests for my mysterious and never-before-seen Captain Morgan boxers (which I didn’t wear on purpose). But, when I woke up after blacking out the first night the fun seemed to dull a bit. Nailing a full house Friday evening after a half-night worth of Cap’n Cokes on the Pai Gow tables with a decent 80s rock cover band blaring in the background and high fives being dished out, just didn’t have the zing it did when I was huddled around the Geisha Bar, accepting one too many generous drinks, shots (Iggy and Chilly of course) and smiles.
Friendship is what makes Vegas to me. Of course, I looked at the waitresses, and looked again, then one more time for good measure, but being around people with similar interest yet having totally different backgrounds is refreshing from a daily life that leans towards a gray-monotone background. That’s why I chop out enough money to fly around to WPBT-type events.
That and the free wheelchair rides that you don’t recall rock as well. Can anyone fill in the blanks?
Since I spent most of Friday morning apologizing for the previous night’s journey to the drunken abyss, the silent treatment doled out by the spouse was deserved and earned ten times over. But, again I was bailed out by a little Daddy and Al tag team (and a $100 bribe) and she at least put on a happy face.
The brunch at the Wynn was probably the best meal I’ve ever tasted outside of the really really good shrimp and hush puppies platter at Long John Silver’s about two years ago. Seriously, the teriyaki steak, Kobe beef meatballs (massaged cow!), brick oven pizza, and decadent vanilla ice cream to top it off was as a fine of a meal as this simpleton has ever had. While snarfing down as much eats as possible, Falstaff gave me a birthday present only a true Drizzt Do’Urden geek like myself could appreciate. The soft-spoken kilt-toting thespian was thoughtful enough to grab my favorite author for a signed copy of Homeland by R.A. Salvatore (picture of the book coming on Thursday with promised Christmas picks of the little ones for the gracious hostess of the Wynn brunch, thank you Gracie!). Yes, gay man hugs were given and the thoughtfulness of the gift from Menzoberranzan still gets me. Thank you sir and ma’am.
You Shook Me All Night Long
“Drizz looks pissed”
Yep, I was.
I have zero excuses for it.
I was so ashamed of my inability to take a couple of beats that I managed to ignore a U of M grad near the roulette tables while exiting the tournament room at Caesar’s with a grunt and eyes plummeting towards the casino’s multi-colored carpeting. Maybe if the “beats” would have happened in the first hour or so, and not with two tables remaining I’d have the same outlook on the cards coming out as I do while at home reclined on my couch and a laptop warming my legs in the porch. After 4-5 hours of playing semi-seriously as there needed to be some comedy having someone like Mr. Speaker to my direct left or seeing the wayward Bobby Bracelet floating in totally unexpected the previous night, the competitive side of me took hold and blocked out all of the fun I had for the first four hours and at the MGM the previous night.
If there was ever a time I need a hardy “put a stitch in it” that was it. My mind just wouldn’t release the loss, instead of focusing on the positive for making it that far in the tourney. Its. A. Card. Game. Just like learning Texas Hold Em’ for the first time, it’s easy to remember, hard to master those emotions when the cards don’t fall your way. With a 16th or 17th place finish I did a little shopping with the wife before as she gave into the callings of sleep. I slinked back to the IP for the PokerPro presentation and give one last attempt to salvage a few smiles…
… to be continued.
Thanks for dropping by, now in honor of Bobby Bracelet: The top three people I wanted to punch in the face while in Vegas:
1) Dude with Dale Earnhart Jr.’s NASCAR number scrawled up his entire forearm: At least he wasn't wearing a pair of Wrangler’s while sporting a Budweiser tattoo on his forehead. NASCAR4LIFE!!!! WHOO!!!!
2) Bitchy Pai Gow dealer at New York New York: Set the fuckin dragon hand how I WANT TO since its not YOUR HAND like the other 20 different dealers I played with last weekend. And lighten the fuck up, she managed to kill my buzz faster then my wife did while waking up Friday morning with her constant ability to smile only when she won.
3) OMG I Can’t Check-in 20 Bags Group At the Airport: This merry band of single digit IQs managed to have 12 bags over the limit and tried to pass some of them off as carry-ons. Of course the verbal sparring between the bag jockeys and amoebas made for a Jerry Springer special waiting to happen. 30 minutes later they fess up the extra cash, and stomp off to enjoy an overpriced smoothie at Chili’s.
Our total check-in time to go home once we got to the front of the line? Three minutes. Assholes.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Generic Story of Vegas
Ok, I'm working off of three hours sleep since I got in around 1am this morning. Maybe tomorrow I'll jot a few words into this space about this weekend.
Just don't ask me about Thursday, because all I remember is playing Pai Gow with Otis and a dealer name Bai, Bye, Byi, Bei or something like that and I was probably annoying the hell out of the pit boss, receiving several happy birthday wishes from some very generous bloggers, then waking up the next morning with a note on my chest saying my wife went to breakfast at 7am... it was 11:30 when I woke up.
Wife was not pleased while doing her Sudoku puzzles on the other bed.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
But if you watched SportsCenter this morning and saw the spin move that Pierre-Marc Bouchard put on Khabibulin this morning you'd stand up and take notice. Or that filthy penalty kick by Ronaldinho making a wall of high stepping Germans as confused as Britney Spears selecting some panties at La Perta to wear. No, I do not have the link to those wonderful Britney Spears bare beaver crotch shots, but since we're blessed with having people like Snake, Chops, and the Addict as fellow poker bloggers at Wicked Chops Poker, they did the dirty work for those of us who need to view such things.
Shave the cheerleader, indeed.
See you tomorrow in never-never land folks :)
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Checklist For Bodily Destruction
Suitcases not packed by me - Check
Bankroll to obtain round disks of monetary value at various casinos - Check
Liver - Questionable, but is a game time decision
Two tickets to Folies Bergere - Check
Spousal unit in a good mood - Will know more after Wednesday night, currently all smiles
Minnesota Sports Jersey - Gophers Hockey or Vikings? (I'm leaning towards Lucia's crew)
Lack of sleep for the past two weeks - Check
Poker hot streak before going to Vegas - Not exactly, but I'm still having fun
Random porn viewed for desensitization to four days of too much cleavage and women wearing less than six layers of clothing - Hmmmm Candy Canes
Monday, December 04, 2006
Moose: I guess Rex Grossman and Brad Johnson decided that throwing to their own teammates was too taxing on their arms.
D.S.: The weather here is horrible, some guy with five brats stuffed in his mouth wearing a throw-back Payton jersey slathered with mustard stains garbled something Jim McMahon coming back, and… what is that smell?
Moose: I believe Tony was trying to keep up brat for brat with a local tailgater and had to use the bathroom in the booth before heading back down to the field.
Tony S.: Just a little present for you smug asses in the warm booth! Now let’s break down why the blocking scheme isn’t working for Minnesota today and….
D.S.: Um, I don’t think blocking was really an issue considering the QBs passer ratings were lower then their own age
Moose: Dude, I remember this time Troy threw five interceptions and still got to nail three cheerleaders in Irving’s hotel room, those were the days. I just gotta say these Bears are looking to emulate the 2000-2001 Ravens’ pathetic run to the title. Who the hell wants to watch a pro defense with a JV squad acting as an offense?
Tony S.: Excuse me, my pan pizza just got delivered. You two try to come up with a coherent sentence while I’m freezing my ass off down here in the 5th circle of hell. Wait a second… did you just slander Ray Lewis and my boyz? I gonna shove this stromboli where your antlers don’t shine!
D.S.: Hold those death by mozzarella thoughts Tony, is that the 1978 Shrum Bowl winner Danny Smith coming on the field for the Vikes? Finally, Childress is showing some coaching ability by trotting on a quarterback who’s actually older then Johnson!
* this didn’t happen on the broadcast nor would it and I actually like that team of announcers, but goddamn that game was horrible yesterday and didn’t deserve one of the better NFL announcing crews
Did either team even want to win or were they worried more about hypothermia due to the 15 million cold weather mentions by Fox Sports? Yes, it’s Chicago, its December, its outdoors, so it might not be 75 and Sunny.
After the way Childress went thru his quarterbacks yesterday I was fully waiting for Touchdown Tommy Kramer, Wade Wilson, or maybe even Gino Torretta to drop by and throw another interception or five. Equally horrible was Grossman throwing for a coma-inducing 34 yards against one of the worst pass defenses in the NFL. Maybe Lovie asked the Fonz about the Bobby Boucher-styled defense before taking down the Vikes 23-13 yesterday. It’s hard to be a fan when there’s nothing to cheer about except random sideline cheerleader shots that aren’t covered up by some stupid overpaid advertising graphic.
Congrats to the Chicago Bears on their NFC North division title, most likely securing home-field advantage until you lose to whatever AFC team decides to not choke during the playoffs, but don’t over look those Seachickens during the NFC title game, having their two skill players back mean a whole different team then the one that lost to the lowly Vikes several weeks ago.
Equally lowly was watching me click on the call button several times last night to be shown a superior hand and watching several chips fly out of my possession. It was a bad mix of getting paid off by short stacks and losing big bets to larger stacks that put a nice sized dent into my recent winnings. But at least I’m only 5,000 Full Tilt points from a coolio hockey jersey!!!!!
Ok, the money for chips and drinks at the MGM has been withdrawn. Three days to live degenerate gambling/boozing, porn hand-outs on the sidewalks, and hopefully a few moments of quiet, relaxing Pai Gow poker with a few friends at 3am.
Thanks for dropping by, now if you didn’t click the link (**links fixed**) to the two-time Hardy Cup winner Danny Smith, head over to Up For Sports (see blog roll under Up For Poker) were some of our internet maestros have combined to write about superior athletic achievements.
When’s Lil’ Otis submitting his weekly picks? Are drink box negotiations still going on?