Friday, June 29, 2007

Would Jesus Push a Wrap Draw?

As I returned to a surprisingly nice room at the Gold Coast (5-star service for low rollin’ degenerates by the way, highly recommended just don't eat at the Port O' Potty buffet) there was a noise that filled the air normally found on the Discovery Channel’s Animal Planet show. After searching for wildlife and finding no dead carcasses of prey ripped across the clean floor I just got ready for some slumber.

I kid.

Actually I’m not, I’ve heard construction sites with a lower decibel level, but I was so tired from setting PAI GOW hands I crashed in the other twin bed started the longest stretch of time within Clark County Nevada without a single drop of alcohol.

Thus begin my own little “raging solo” time as my roommate Speaker had other matters to attend to back at the Rio. Walking along the road up Hugh Heffner Drive to check out the Palms Resort and stare at the 10 foot Playboy Room posters complete with bunnies that were easy on the eyes but made we wish my shorts weren’t so tight. Panda Garden’s Sweet and Sour pork with fried rice went down with a flourish as forgetting to eat, next to having no alcohol constraint is still one of the things I’m improving on while visiting Sin City.

The owner Maloof himself was walking a dog along the poker slots as groupies and enough production cameras for a major motion picture surrounded him for a new promotional skit. I later saw him sitting at an empty blackjack table but resisted giving him the wink and a gun as I walked by making eye contact.

After some deep breaths, roaming the WSOP playing area few times to say hi to Pauly who was working hard on the HORSE event and downing ONE Cap’n Coke (I don’t count this as drinking as a singular beverage doesn’t nothing more then calm the nerves) I headed to the poker tent.

To me the climate was fine, as a slight chill descended from the large plastic baggies that channeled the A/C throughout the room was fine for me but for the majority of my table went in search of Parka and some sled dogs. A roundish asian girl politely welcomed me to the table as I shook hands with my tables mates noting the empty stack to my immediate left that remained unclaimed. As I looked up to see if anyone was walking this way there were two gentlemen heading in my direction. One was shortish while donning large sunglasses, noise muffling earphones, a goatee, and a team PokerStars shirt. The other was looking dapper with his pearly whites gleaming across the room and his suit was not something regularly found at T.J. Maxx.

Marsel Luske to my right, Joe Hachem to my left at the World Series of Poker Pot Limit Omaha tournament sounds like dialog for a “European Rounders” movie, but alas they took the immediate tables behind me as the seat was filled by a man who was rockin’ a turbo mullet to the max.

The tourney started very, very slowly for me as the dealer had not dealt O8 before and managed to make just two orbits before the first hour was up. Lucky for me I managed to break my first rule of not being all-in in the first hour while on the button after limping in.

Turbo Mullet: T74Q suited diamonds
Drizz: 2345 double suited diamonds and spades
Grumpy Old Guy: 248J

Flop: 236 with two diamonds

Hmmm… I like? With hitting everything under the sun I try leading out for 200 with 300 chips in the pot, get called in both places while rubbing the Jesus pencil topper from the Bracelet furiously for answering my selfish prayers.

Turn: 5 (not a straight flush making card)

I turn to the dealer wanting a silent word about her choice of dealt card (and change my religions simultaneously), but politely check my counterfeited nut straight especially when “Thunderstuck” starts playing from under Turbo Mullet’s curly party in the back and he looked like a man getting serviced under the table while shoving his chips in. Luckily, I managed to snag a quarter when Grumpy Old Guy didn’t know how to fold and we tied the low.

From there it was a greeting with a thousand watt smile from Change100 working the event that kept my spirits up despite the tail spin of several missed flops that would never end. Pauly, CC, and Otis dropped by to wish me luck and snap a photo (if you guys could forward it to me I’d love to have one).

My waterloo came again Grumpy Old Man who couldn’t fold as my case 7BB in chips during the 4th level went in with double suited aces versus his KQJT and he flopped QQJ, no two outer came for me.

G-a-m-e O-v-e-r

I was dazed that it happened so quickly that I hardly remember leaving my seating and the poker tent before reaching a cash game playing Speaker who offered the quickest tonic to my gut rot from busting out.

Hit up that PLO8 cash game.

No max buy in $2/$5 with several people sporting $1K towers of $5 chips. I came to do things I’d never done in Vegas and one of them is playing my chosen discipline of poker for stakes that could erase any slot or PAI GOW stupidity. For four hours I was able to play without fear of losing. Mississippi straddles lined the table, and set the average pots north of $200. I bought in for $500 and had $500 more in my pocket for one more buy-in should lady luck decide to fart in my general direction on this wild table. Someone was all-in about every other hand, sometimes splitting, other times not.

I cashed out $150 ahead. Not a big win but I accomplished everything that I came to Vegas to do within those 10 hours at the Rio. I played in the WSOP, did not for one second feel intimidated (all while stone sober I may add), and managed to smile after I was done despite busting well short of my goal to make it to Day 2.

Thanks for dropping by, I’ll be back on Monday with the –EV Donkey Olympics at the Venetian, WPGBT formation?, and don’t call it a comeback.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

It Happened Too Fast

The vacationers lined up at Gate H4 at the Hubert H. Humphrey terminal for their trip out of reality. A large Native American with a gaudy dream catcher charm and hat too small for his head and long braided hair spilling out the back from a local mechanist union stood with a wide smile across his face as if lady luck was going to pay him an extended visit while visiting the local casinos along Freemont Street. Heidi, according to her extensive back tattoo laced with thorns and a rose, emitted the body language that her boarding the Sun Country Airlines flight to Las Vegas was for business and someone elses pleasure.

Crossing the two Vegas clich├ęs was your hero, as I left Terminal D upon touching down at McCarran International. This was the first time going to Vegas that I didn’t join in the camaraderie of the captain exclaiming GOOD LUCK to the gamblers fifteen minutes before touching down with a bounce better left on a racquetball court versus a multi-million dollar plane hitting a runway.

This was business.

Of course with business one must network out to those with similar interest and expertise in order to gain knowledge within their field. Late night Six Sigma planned strategy sessions were crucial to success of this trip. The meeting’s facilitator Ken was from China as the name badge read. Cropped hair with crisply ironed Christmas green tint, his shirt shouted POWER PLAYER as he dealt to the wary receivers of his slung cards along the half mooned shaped table. Ken would show his crafty dealing ways by having your hero set his PAI GOW hands incorrectly so the house would win repetitively.

Maybe we should have staked him for the WSOP instead.

The World Series of Poker’s ambiance to a casual fanboi like myself second to none as I entered the Rio’s massive orgy of card players and $10 foot long margarita souvineer glass holding tourist craning their overly burnt necks to see Barry Greenstein pull off a bluff to remain in the hunt of the $50,000 HORSE tourney. Personally my first taste of the tourney was degenerate enabler Joe Speaker’s suggestion to try out an SnG satellite as we waited for some hard working media types to lay down their notepads for the evening as stories needed to be told across from overpriced bottles of beers and Jack-high PAI GOW hands.

Speed poker was the name of the game for the $1500 in lammers, despite the $175 price tag on the postcard sized entry slip into the nine seat. One false play by yours truly after getting desperately short like running top pair into a flopped set, and it was time to nurse some beers at the All American Bar and Grill until our blogging brethren dropped by. Mean Gene, Otis, and Spaceman would gather for a spell as around the Bass bottles and juicy cheeseburgers lined table, we represented five of the United States regions.

Later on we’d meet up with Ken once again back at the Gold Coast in a late night strategy session to discuss the pros and cons of pushing top set off the flop when your opponent has a low wrap plus flush draw and you are facing elimination.

Before I leave today’s post hanging for the start of the WSOP event recap tomorrow (pending upon work), I’d like to thank once again all the bloggers who made this possible as I sit down today back in reality, my smile which seemed permanent (except for about an hour after the event) for the whole four days still hasn’t left my face. It was a experience of a lifetime and highly recommended to anyone who hasn’t “taken their shot” and feels as if they have an edge on the field.

Tomorrow we’ll get into wrap draws, valant defeat, warthog redux, and taking a shot at the bigger cash games.

Thanks for dropping by, now a beleated happy birthday to Change100, as I forgot to bring this fabulous pair of neon pink Crocs I had my eyes on to go with a John Deere "I Love Farming" t-shirt from Fleet Farm, but I’m sure she won’t miss em :)

And thanks to CC, Pauly, Otis, Spaceman, Gene, Speaker, and Change100 for checking up on me before, during, and after the tourney. I wouldn’t be here or there or anywhere without these folks. Keep up the great work you all do.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Shall We Dance?

Before I take off in 24 hours I'd like to thank all the people who've put some faith behind me as the plane leaves for the Rio from Minneapolis tomorrow afternoon.

With a little luck, I'll be sending deposits back to everyone along with stories about sitting next to Men the Master and stealing his Corona.

As Daddy may muse... my game is set to "slay".

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Girls Cock Block Poker Goodness

Be sure to drop by Chadarama's spot on the interweb today to read about the boyz weekend in Chicago.

Then call him a pussy for not coming out to Canterbury tonight with me as I warm up for the WSOP against the local rocks in the $4/$8 O8 game. Something about wanting to get laid in the near future. A subject I'll refrain from speaking about "near future lays" because to me that means I'll get the offer to roll over for my 5 seconds of fun sometime in between my monthly haircuts.

Still swamped at work and got a story jiggling around in my head that needs to get out, hopefully I'll have some poker + gargage sale tilt to muse about tomorrow.


Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Anyone For Seconds?

Busy is, busy does.

Here's a old joke to wake yourselves up this morning. And congrats to Johan Santana for remembering why you're the Cy Young Award winner last night, was hoping you wouldn't turn into another Scott Erickson.

Vanilla Pudding Robbery

Excerpted from an article which appeared in the DublinTimes about a bank robbery on March 2.

Once inside the bank shortly after midnight, their efforts at disabling the security system got underway immediately. The robbers, who expected to find one or two large safes filled with cash & valuables, were surprised to see hundreds of smaller safes throughout the bank. The robbers cracked the first safe's combination, and inside they found only a small bowl of vanilla pudding.

As recorded on the bank's audio tape system, one robber said, "At least we'll have a bite to eat." The robbers opened up a second safe, and it also contained nothing but vanilla pudding. The process continued until all safes were opened. They did not find one pound sterling, a diamond, or an ounce of gold. Instead, all the safes contained covered bowls of pudding. Disappointed, the robbers made a quiet exit, each leaving with nothing more than a queasy, uncomfortably full stomach.


Tuesday, June 19, 2007

A Long Fly Ball

You’re sitting in an overheated car with no air conditioning driving home from the ball park for all the wrong reasons, the radio fades in and out depriving those savory notes of 80’s hair band goodness, and while looking up at the rear view mirror there’s red streaks of stress lining those baby blues. The car stutters like a businessman explaining to his wife about the lap full of glitter and Jim Beam on his breath after an extended happy hour after work.

Lack of sleep from the kids waking up at times only intended for those who wanted to watch Sorority Girls Poker Pajama Party 16 on Cinemax, sends a perpetual buzzing noise through what’s left of your brain after those final articles/business plans/work projected were saved to Microsoft Word.

But, the moment comes that makes all the thrown mashed potatoes and gravy against the window at KFC and shouting about WHY CAN’T I WATCH MY SHOWS DADDY worth it. The gravel beneath your feet stands firm after digging those new cleats into the batter’s box. A helpful wind blows out towards the 310 ft. sign in left field besides the bald headed left fielder who appears to have fell asleep in a tattoo artist’s chair. Your choice of weapon is a perfected balance layer of graphite and aluminum encased with turbo spring technology as the label exclaims.

The just-hit-the-mushroom sized Mario-like pitcher lofts a turtle over the middle of the plate, no spin, no treachery, just Princess Toadstool and Toad sitting in the bleachers behind the chain linked fence awaiting their hero to free them.

As the 27 ounce bat meets the twelve inch sphere and sails over the helpless ink boy who does nothing more then crane his neck to watch the ball twang off a lightpole several stories up, the once brow beaten dad is ready for all that life can throw at him again.

For some people its throwing down a massive river bluff and raking the chips. For other’s its getting that pre-crack Lindsay Lohan to acknowledge the size of your junk at the bar and forgetting her phone number the next morning.

For this guy, one meaningless athletic action followed by a perfectly poured (in this country) pint of Guinness at a local bar, erased the foul stench of the leftover lasagna Tupperware container in the front seat of my car that I kept staring at yet couldn’t pull the trigger to actually haul the overpriced plastic into the house for a meeting with some lemon scented Palmolive.

And no more worries as I gear up for the WSOP next week.

Thanks for dropping by, now go to your happy place today if she’ll let you. Make sure you're keeping up with the WSOP coverage as these guys (and gals) are overcoming surly poker players and hot assed Milwaukee Beast girls to bring the Rio to you.

Monday, June 18, 2007


Not gonna back up or bust off some horrible white boy rappin' due to moving desks this morning and finding a mountain of TPS reports awaiting in the new digs.

I'm going to pretend I didn't watch that near-disaster last night at the Metrodome (Fielder hits an inside the park home run? ANY Fielder hitting an inside the park home run would have to be at the Church's parking lot ball field with a run-until-they-get-it-rule).

As a consolation to Brew Crew fans, you almost made Lew Ford cry in his post-game interview.

Sun will come out tomorrow, as it sure the hell isn't today.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

I'm Not Tiger Woods

My apologies to StB for not comfirming the usual boarder battle wager between his beer soaked and red-hot Brew Crew and the Twinkies this weekend.

I headed up to the cabin just a tad too early to catch the message.

Be back tomorrow with some whining (not about poker, but I could if you're into that sort of thing), and a need to find the best advice for entering my first WSOP event (what to expect, how much to drink, how much to tip for that pre-game rub and tug).

See you tomorrow.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Drunk On Fresh Air

I'll hang the oft used sign of "Gone to the Cabin" on the front door here since sitting around at home and actually getting the some rest for once doesn't make any sense due to the beautiful up here in the Northwoods.

But, I will be subjecting myself to some artificially cooled air at Grand Casino Hinckley this weekend to acustom myself to holding cards and sitting next to total strangers that want to take my money in a civilized manner. I'm sure the competition at the $2/$4 limit tables will be in line with the low rollers at the WSOP who use the $1,500 events to wake up for the larger events.

That's fine with me, since I'll be all business come June 25th at five o'clock. I haven't had the time to play much online lately due to softball, kids, and heading up to the no wifi zone surrounding my cabin every weekend to taste wonderful charred animal fleshes on the grill and BS by the bonfire until the glass of Cap'n Coke gets too heavy to lift. My online play last night was par for the course over the past three weeks, make it down to the last few tables, run a semi-decent hand into a bigger one when low on chips due to no spots to steal. Or flat out bubble like the monkey-rific turbo Razz game in the Dookie last night.

Just poker. Play the plays, what happens after that is up to the RNG or the cards that are laid out on the center of the table. If you're bitching about this person playing that, or how could that donkey call your bet... you're no better poker player that the mouth breather sitting in front of E! 24 hours a day waiting for Paris Hilton updates while shoveling a gallon sized tub of Chunky Monkey down your gullet.

Remember if it wasn't for bad players, most people would be broke from this game a loooooooooong time ago. Ponder on that next time USukMyDickies or that smelly cow chip farmer in the seven seat calls your obvious semi-bluff with a four flush on the board with a underpair to the entire flop. Making those type of plays makes YOU the bad player. YOU didn't assess the situation correctly. YOU put out a bet knowing full well he/she would call with any pair. YOU missed the board and could have gotten more chips when that hidden straight or set falls into your lap, instead of passing those chips to the pair of fours that held up when your 25% flush chance didn't hit (or a little more percentage with overcards).

Thanks for dropping by, now to add to the sensory overload of events lately, the US Open starts today for us hackers of the links. If I shot 120 at Oakmont I'd probably frame the scorecard

Edit: Anyone listen/watch this video from Bill's site? This video should be a textbook on how NOT to make an arguement for the bible-thumping gambling haters.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

I Vant To Play Some Cards

Not sure what caused the recent spike in traffic here, did I publish those *pics of Dr. Pauly caught in bed at the Plaza two years ago with two meth-addicted Filipino midget hookers and copy of Cardplayer on his nightstand?

Probably not as I've been sworn to never mention that night.

See, I can keep a secret!

Anyone watching the coverage by our friends at Bluff, PokerStars Blog, and Pokernews? Or got too drunk one night and subscribed to the WSOP final table camera feed? Despite being home mostly to sleep for the past two weeks, I've been trying to at least keep up with the WSOP hoopla for what its worth. Is there are going to be a mass revolt against the playing conditions, and general stupidity (Math Quiz for that chip runner or hell the idiots manning the eye in the sky... name three chips of the same denomination, same color using only whole numbers that could add up to $2,500). *cue Jeopardy! theme song*

Nod to Felicia for that 2+2 post. Hope you guys are feeling better!

And short answer to a mass revolt... probably never since poker players feed off easy money and there's a room full of it getting larger every year at the WSOP.

My side game action will be taking place at Casa Del Gold across the parking lot with plenty of $5 Pai Gow and $2/$4 limit hold em' action for this low rollin' card slinger. Or even the PLO action at Binion's per Felicia's suggestion... I'd love to play it live at least once ($2 rake? That's better then online!!).

Thanks for dropping by, now please a moment of silence for those geeks who loved watching Mr. Wizard growing up. I'm one of them.

* The incident did not happen at least to the best of my knowledge while in his suite at the Plaza since I was busying yelling at a laptop while playing $100 NLHE at Full Tilt

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Instant Karma Over 24 Hours

Anyone have a spare plastic bubble I could live in for the next two weeks until I descend upon the Rio to pick up my wrist trinket and a few comped Cap’n Cokes from scantly clad waitresses who secretly want you to look? Well you, not me as I'm married and don't look at women in that way anymore except when I do.

If you believe in karma as I do, I’m beginning to wonder how many oatmeal cream pies and blocks of mandarin orange jello I stole from the local nursing home. Last night’s softball game was the kicker to a day of sudden deadlines, diaper rash that looked like something the Center for Disease Control would have on a laminated chart on a dermatologist’s wall, and finding out I missed the pre-registration for the WSOP by a mere six hours.

The last one caused a minor spaz out that rivaled Wyatt’s tantrum for not getting to go to the pool this weekend due to his inability to consume breakfast in a timely manner. Thanks again to those who send their parenting stories/tips, he’s continuing his road towards staying out of juvie.

A registration line once I touch down in Vegas shouldn’t kill an entire day of debauchery as I’ll have Monday morning/afternoon to rest up and maybe play a little O8 with the locals to sharpen any skillz needed to tackle the PLO8 event later at night. Especially since this event nears the finish line of yet another record breaking year at the WSOP despite the online players having to go through The Great Escape type means to withdraw their ill gotten funds and stand in line with bricks of cash in hand to receive their slop from Harrah’s tournament sign up mess line (Yes, Al I finally sat down to watch this flick, thanks for the tip).

With Speaker as my Apollo Creed in getting back the eye of the tiger before I step onto the tournament canvas, I hope I’m able to utter some symbolist of the English language Monday afternoon while taunting the holla balla boyz for entering an event that isn’t made for the overly aggressive higher stakes NLHE cash game type. Granted, the players at the table will know their straight is no good on a paired/flush board and getting paid off will take more pirouettes then a production of Swan Lake, but I’m confident with a couple of breaks going my way and few a bluffs, there will be at least a story (and hopefully some cash) for all of those that were kind enough to back this Omaholic into his first WSOP.

12 days to touchdown. Let us pray.

Thanks for dropping by, now make sure you’re clicking all the links to the right as WPBT trip reports are finally pouring in with Spaceman’s wife becoming the sixth WPBT champ! A woman poker player winning a tournament??!?! I think the folks at Wicked Chops are currently walking in circles chain smoking and muttering in Sanskrit while watching reruns of BJ and the Bear backwards after learning that a woman has won a poker tournament.

Congrats Rachel!!!

Monday, June 11, 2007

Dog Days of Work

Busy busy busy, so make sure you're hoping over to see the live coverage of the WSOP by those same people you played the $2/$4 at the Excal with.

I'll be back tomorrow should this tsumani of paper being shoved towards my cube ever stop.

Ivey near miss, Cunningham wins, Hellmuth possible #11, and Hoy cashes?!?!?!?

Poker is ALL about luck, especially the last part :)


Thursday, June 07, 2007

If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say

I'm having a tough time with this one and since we have so many parents out there in our little corner of the interweb maybe someone else has run up against this.

If a friend/family member has labeled your kid as a "bad kid" and scrutinizes every action the kid makes while managing to strain the relationship between you and the friend/family member because they feel their kid is wronged.

Is there any course of action?

You see the improvements in their behavior daily, yet he/she gets a bad rap from the hawk's eye on your kid while they play with together for maybe an hour a week.

I'm lost on further things to say because all I get is a run down of every little "he pushed at this time" and "he does this" and "you need to control your kid more" while I sit back and absorb it because arguing is futile.

Maybe someone from Speaker's parent corner would like to chime in? It would appreciated greatly.

Thanks for dropping by, now please if you are attending the WPBT event this weekend someone please buy in for 5-6 racks in the $2/$4 mixed game at the MGM. Oh, and don't attempt to emulate my wheelchair derby night, save that for the irresponsible idiots from Minnesota who manage flopping out of the gate like Mr. Otis in a 1 1/8 furlong race on turf.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Shilling for Shilling

This is not a sponsored post but a thanks to the companies that choose to drop some coin for this gambling degenerate to ramble on about poker and being a parent.

Poker Source Online and still offer those yummy deposit bonuses I used to lap up back in the wild west days of bonus whoring from site to site. PSO takes it a step further and offers several very cool prizes for completing a certain amount of frequent player's points at the various sites in conjunction with the regular deposit bonus. Also, be sure to check out their freerolls and overlay laden poker leagues. Can't hate free mobneys.

I've been playing at Full Tilt around the first days of its existance and still believe its games are currently the best choice for those trapped behind the Kyl Curtain. The Daily Double tournament for multi-tablers gives you a $24 shot at several thousand should you manage to take down the two MTTs back to back. Difficult feat for sure, but the "best in show" booby prize for finishing the highest in both tourney isn't anything to sneeze at either. has evolved its blog and poker forum into a regular place to visit for any poker player. Sometimes "the Sklansky line" isn't enough information, why not seek out a different opinion with a fresh point of view about that hand?

For quick news bites on the poker-y happenings, along with an updated listing everytime you refresh this page, has your news that fits into your busy work day. Or if you're five guinness' deep into uber-post and wanted to know who won the recent WPT event without killing more work productivity.

And lastly,, the king of overlay tourneys. Should you have the means of transferring money in today's online poker economy I HIGHLY recommend throwing down some mobneys. Any player worth his/her salt will take home a high return

Thanks for dropping by, now go forth and shill like a pro!

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Band of Fathers

First there were twin peaks, then another fish in the sea, a future movie going card shark in LA sneezed for the camera, and now JJ decided to give his triplets something to pick on.

Congrats to all the new fathers!

As a sign of solidarity, my daughter decided I’ve been sleeping too much lately and promptly woke up late last night with some screams that would make Linda Blair and Jamie Lee Curtis perk up to take notice, after I updated my poker site with a few articles (meaning it was already f’in late). Not one to cuddle usually, she curled up into a little plush ball of soft skin all the way to nana’s house this morning and fought valiantly of letting go as I tried to manage a flight of stairs out of the house without taking a plunge over the side from lack of sleep.

Too bad coffee isn’t in my vocabulary; I might need to step onto the dark side of ground beans, emo baristas, and flavor shots one of these days.

If you heard some cheering from the internet cafes and possibly many hotel rooms surrounding the Rio yesterday, Neteller decided to release its first non doom-and-gloom statement with its intentions of unlocking accounts for withdrawal purposes. Granted, my chunk o’ change comes out to a weekend at Wisconsin Dells with a few water park passes and a ride on the Ducks, many players’ bankrolls have been muted to the point of $30/$60 players forced to suck it up on the penny ante tables.

I’ll await the breakdown of the statement by resident poker blogging sourpuss Bill Rini (if you want to see the “real” Bill, check out the awesome trip reports, go check out his must see trip reports in Thailand and Spain) before breaking out the bottles of Boone’s in celebration. If it passes his muster, then I think it’s same to assume that another flush of cash is going to hit the poker economy within a month.

20 days to touchdown in Sin City for this humble blogger attempting to tackle what seems to be record breaking crowds once again at the WSOP. Sadly that means I won’t be there for the WPBT event this weekend to break some rocks at the Orleans’ O8 tables. If you haven’t attend a live WPBT event in the past, I highly recommend digging around your favorite blogger’s sites for trip reports, you won’t regret attending, except for that tattoo of a Spearmint Rhino’s feature dancer on your forehead.

Thanks for dropping by, now who would have predicted 4 shy of 3,000 players for a prelim event at the WSOP despite yet another round of highly auditable complaints (Pauly should ask for a hit of the stuff they were smoking while selecting those goofy cards) !?!?

Bonus for Speaker... Was this a Six Sigma event? What happened to Chavez choking?

Monday, June 04, 2007

Par For The Course

Breaking even is great if you’re normally a hacker on the golf course with a swing that resembles Elaine from Seinfeld’s dance moves. My little adventure at Riverwood National this weekend with my father-in-law, brother-in-law, and wife’s uncle had me searching for par and ending with a triple figure score. While I’m not quite ready to take on Tiger and Phil at the next U.S. Open, I do usually manage to clutch on to my around bogey golf score while carefully avoiding double digits for one hole’s tally.

Hitting the white ball with “Callaway” into various ponds and wetland areas is not the optimum strategy for such loft goals as just finishing the round with golf with balls left in the bag. Luckily, others who played this rugged course prior to my arrival were kind enough to leave their extras lying around semi-hidden so I could get a feel for several different brands while striking those off the tee and off the half million dollar homes that surrounded some of the greens.

At the poker tables my balance sheet has not risen to epic proportions since withdrawing for the WSOP in three weeks, nor have I tanked it in Waffle fashion. I’ve earned several frequent player’s points in case an additional stress balls are needed for my son’s inability to retire for the evening in a speedy manner. His new tactic is playing coy about wanting to learn the art of check-raising a douchebag off his top pair with a river bluff. I usually counter with a reading from the tome of Jimmy Neutron’s vast library (Thomas the Tank Engine is becoming kids stuff Daddy).

How fast they grow up.

Hopes for having a little extra cash stash in case my unnamed roommate should want to adventure off-strip in search of naked orbs of silicon laden with glitter, is becoming shorter with every bubble-ish tourney finishes. Save for my awesome Razz game displayed in last evening’s HORSE game with the bloggers. I played HORSEYRIFFIC and the bricks showed me the door quicker then that Japanese dude could stuff Nathan’s hotdogs down his 125 pounds of fury frame.

“Hey baby, wanna see what I can do with a footlong?” I bet he gets all the ladies with that line. Er… maybe not.

Cash games have paid for my lottery-like tourney tickets and the circle of poker life continues on with my break-even ways. Better then losing? Perhaps. A nice score would have put a few more singles in my pocket in case Lisssa (that’s three for exxtra sizzle) needs more encouragement to heave her double Ds while fetching another Cap’n Coke for me at the tables.

Which tables will be decided once I check into the Gold Coast in a few weeks.

Thanks for dropping by, now our blogging brothers and sisters have shot down event #1 at the WSOP. Rock on guys.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Its Time

Good luck to Pauly, Otis, Spaceman, Change100, Mean Gene, and all the bloggers who will be tackling the hookers and angle shooters for the next seven weeks the WSOP.

I hope you guys don't look to the end, but enjoy your time living up the scene.

See you in a few weeks.