Monday, March 12, 2007

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.

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