2011: The Search for Perry

Fresh year, fresh quarter of school, and fresh snow for all!  Including our friends in G-Vegas who unfortunately lack the snow removal tools to deal with the white, slippery stuff.  It's a sliding scale of course as people in the northern states and Canada-land are used to the delays, hourly shovelling, and the bitter cold of the winter months whereas those south of the Mason-Dixon line may not have city wide plows, salting trucks, and a general tolerance for such weather.

 image credit

Dead birds, mass flooding, and the Packers somehow winning a playoff game have the conspiracy/Armageddon nut cases in a frenzy as 2012 approaches.  If the world is ending prior to my 2013 graduation from college (current GPA a double flex worthy 3.98, ladies form the line to the right, I've been told there's plenty for everyone) why not party it up?

This year will be busy if not more than last year when I stretched myself to the limits by returning to school on top my daily routine which tires most people out just reading it.  The plan is to stay the course, continue to find pockets of fun underneath the wave of swimming lessons and Income Tax code books that outweighs a pan of lasagna for 10.

Last year took me to G-Vegas for Mastodon Weekend which was the perfect kick off for returning to school.  A weekend without my fingers being frozen while waking up, bars that don't force their employees to wear flare and served awesome beers, and most of all like-minded friends who shared themselves and dropped their professional suits in the garbage bin full of empty Yuengling bottles and strapped on the degeneracy wear to tear up downtown Greenville. 

There was making sure I had the funds for such hijinks as I helped out the PokerStarsBlog for the PokerStars SCOOP and WCOOP tournaments, trading regular sleep patterns for final table wraps about people winning six, even seven figures online.  My love for cards and watching the action got me thru the wee-hours of the morning and kissing the wife go to work at six a.m. and finishing up while dishing out Fruit Loops and bacon for the kids.  Reporting on poker is something that gives me a little extra spark as my regular job lacks forward thinking and being able to shove a few puns and use active thinking while writing helps bring some energy to a rather drab cubical life. 

Then the circus came into town for a Twins game, golf, and gallons of Surly Furious as Gentle Summit invaded downtown Minneapolis where we got Speaker and his newly minted lovely wife Emet addicted to the local brew.  StB sailed in from Milwaukee and DonkeyPuncher found the ability to board a plane semi-sober and stumble down Hennepin avenue with us.  I was lucky enough not kill everyone with my "sunglasses at night" trip from Canterbury Park and even walked away with enough money to cover the weekend's lap dances and Drizz drooling over 2am beers and wings expenses.  This summer however I vow to best Speaker on the golf course despite having the inability to swing a club for the next five months and will remember not to partake in that seventh NewCastle on the back 9.

After our usual kick-ass summer at the cabin/trailer, the fall months quickly brought December and my month to unwind from a stressful year.  Birthday, WPBT, four day weekends, New Year's parties, two weeks off of school, basically an off-loading of every deadline, every six page double spaced paper with appropriate APA formatting and reference page, every "I DONT WANT TO EAT THAT!!!!1!!!", every argument with my better half who I lean on more than I should but she stands tall despite being a foot shorter than I.  Every inch of stress gone, ready to reload for 2011 as the only memory still not on paper is the kick ass Black Crowes concert that may be Truckin' worthy once I finish it.

2011 brings something to look forward to versus something to be endured.  I've already hit the ground running with a spring break trip in the works, and a long time friend dropping in from Philly to make sure I get my alcohol and poker quotient in for the month year.  If I survive the AlCantHang experience again, you'll read it here.

I'll wipe that smile right off your face

Is it time for Wilson Phillips yet?

No?

Sigh.

It's the home stretch to the 2010 WPBT Winter Classic where smiling is actually encouraged and won't get you a press conference beat down by our many illustrious poker writers for many different outlets.  Seriously?  Smiling?  I understand one question about the smirk, he answered cordially but to keep needling the guy and a team who just played awful football for 60 minutes is akin to having TMZ on your press pass.  Yep, just like those "reporters" who walk up to random celebs with hot-button questions "So OJ how's the right hook coming along?" "Paris do you prefer to use the left or right nostril?" "Hey!  Mr. Gibson could you tell us how you REALLY feel about Jews?".  Report, don't become part of the story.  Of course I did not attend J-school and since my poker reporting is done in the comfort of a Snuggie with a laptop and a Cap'n Coke sitting aside from the couch, I can't completely know what was going thru the mind of that reporter after last night's Monday Night Football game.

Photo Cred: ParkThoughts

Update to the last post:  I finished 12th in the PLO8 MTT after I was unable to keep my eyes open and opted for sleep.  Bad degen.  A decent shot for another small score but this week's schedule is brutal.  A full financial analysis of PartyGaming is due which was taken on due to being curious about the aftermath of leaving the US player base.  Profits down of course, but not as bad as you think.  I'll publish the numbers here after handing in the assignment.  Then, a 5-6 page essay comparing two short stories, along with normal weekly assignments, and trying to work ahead for next week since I don't feel like doing anything related to school in Vegas.  Oh, and there's taking the kids to see Santa at the Mall of America all day Friday
where I have two all-day passes to Nickelodeon Universe readied as a gift for daddy going away to spend a few days with friends.

If you see a spare me currently wandering around the back bank of slots at the Gold Coast or giving away money at the Flamingo's $2/$4 game at 5am nursing a hot chocolate, send him back to Minnesota, I could use my clone for this week. 

In case this is your first or fifth WPBT Winter Classic, is it imperative you read Dr. Pauly's guide to surviving the weekend.  Leave passing out on an off-strip Pai Gow table while Xi is trying to collect your losing bonus bet to overworked parents and veterans of such degeneracy.  We're used the five second naps and snapping awake with zero consciousness and appearing to function normally when the four year old is asking for help after turning the sink into a giant tub of cherry flavored kool-aid and playing Barbie's beach house from the sides.

8 days folks.

Heidi Montag's Tits are the Nation's Financial Problem

Kid Dynamite - Former Wall Street Trader and Vegas crusher (seriously go read ANY of his Vegas trip reports, it's a level of degeneracy I strive for myself but never get there) turned meat grinder/home garden extraordinaire packs mostly financial news with enough layman terms sprinkled in so someone like myself can understand TARPs and other news concerning our government handing out money to those who cry because they had to do away with their third Bentley.

Seriously go read, he's like a Rosetta Stone for finance. 

Anyway, there was post on someone named Paul Krugman whom I'd never heard of since my reading and media interactions are mostly poker blogs and watching Johnny Test, SpongeBob, and Literary textbooks for school.   Anyway Mr. Krugman apparently slammed people like myself who having been saving versus spending in recent years and trying to be as fiscially responsible as a good degen can be (sorry but the siren calls of Pai Gow bonus bets and Mr. Cashman slots MUST BE ANSWERED! I didn't completely neuter myself after marriage and kids).  Me and my wife both work full-time, getting up at 4:30am every day during the week and get home around 5pm, then dinner, taking the kids to swimming/dancing/skating/advanced assassin techniques for ninjas class level three then around eight or nine I start to study since I returned to school full time.  Oh, and she also works occasionally at a senior citizen function while I help out with the Sunday Majors coverage at PokerStarsBlog.  All this to pay a mortgage that is barely above water (no we did not buy "too much house" it's barely 1,400 square feet and 30 years old so take those arguments elsewhere) but on the good side our cars are paid off and we carry no credit card debt which allows us to live a little instead of going dumpster diving for half eaten ramen noodles.

The reason I mention the above was after reading a story about a chick who is more plastic than my daughter's Barbie dolls "Heidi Montag files bankruptcy after blowing $10 million".  My point isn't the money since this nation's elite need to buy rich things and do or have done something to earn that money.  It's their prerogative (ok, busting out Bobby Brown since you can't say that word without the song popping in your head)



Ah, ah, ah. THAT'S MY MY MY PREROGATIVE ... Oh welcome back.  Montag.  The whole irk behind her "financial woes" lies behind her spending something she never earned. "We thought The Hills would be like 90210" was the excuse.  Can I please punch her in one of those over-inflated tits please?  Why should semi-decent hard-working folks like myself slave over humping crappy jobs when we could be snorting coke off high priced stripper's asses at Cheetah's and playing poker with Doyle Brunson?  Just charge it, lose my house because I can't even afford the minimum payments on my 15 maxed credit cards?  Fuck you!  I'm ENTITLED to my house, you're going to throw out a family of four because I can't pay my obligations?  /internet sarcasm

I don't know when or why people in this country got to the point that don't feel responsible for their actions or even try to rectify the issue "I almost stripped for Playboy until my parents took us in!" says Montag.  Well, I don't have DDs or a vagina for that matter, so my chances of doing something on a similar last-ditch effort are slim to none, can't even spooge in a cup for cash since not producing another child we can't afford seemed responsible.

Responsiblity has a price, if a little sanity is the cost, I'm ok with paying it so I can look at myself in the mirror in the morning and only hate the fact that I root for a football team which enjoys torturing its fans year after disappointing year. 

34 days.

Erin Andrews Vs. Brett Favre: Who wins in creating drama?

You stay classy New York Post.

I'm all for nudie videos and pics but almost certainly knowing that the Erin Andrews video (beware of spyware, malware, Andre Ware being attached to the video) was shot without her consent and posting pictures of it in a major publication and not a blog that receives under a hundred hits a day (THANKS GOOGLE!), crosses as many lines as Purple Jesus dashing for a 76 yard touchdown run.

There's a reason why distributors get more time in jail versus users.

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Since my mind is firmly on this weekend you get my going away video I usually post during the last work day before shoving off into a degenerate weekend. This time there's no plane trip or eight hour drive, just an hour north to a golf course off I-35 then heading east towards Wisconsin to relax with a few fine beverages, be the bank for some Pai Gow, and argue all night about My-Favorite-Favre coming with mixed emotions to my beloved Purple.

The land baron will make his decision by the time I get back and being disconnected from all internets and media you will know before I if those Monday Night Football tickets for the Vikings vs. Packers are to become worth more than Super Bowl tickets due to the rabid fan bases. For a decent grip on the NFC North outlook the boys at KSK will quench your thirst for all things football, and rip on those assholes who keep you from a decent glass of MSG or Bud Light at your next keg party.

But, without further adieu take it away Wilson Phillips!

Think Tony Would Mind?

Yankees fans around the globe cheered yesterday as the recession officially came to a close. No, I’m not talking about the bloated contract of Mark Teixeira (who apparently gets dragged around by his wang, make note to the Yankees skipper to have Leigh withhold sex should Mark decided to go on a 0 for 16 skid during the Red Sox series). Or the C.C. Sabathia, A.J. Burnett, A-Rod, Jeter metric ton on American dollars sliding into their pockets giving non-pinstripe fans even more reasons to boo the Steinbrenner junta.

The real reason they are dancing in the Bronx this morning because this country’s financial woes are nothing but a broken pocket pair of aces, is because Carl Pavano is gainfully employed once again as a baseball player and not a clubhouse attendant with a job to just make sure the sunflower seeds bucket is full. This alone defies logical, stringent spending and smacks of “hey, why not, we’re rich!” type mentality of an AIG corporate officer getting his third lobster tail while being orally serviced under the table by a flown in Swedish porn star paid for by the U.S. government. $1.5 million to a guy that has proven nothing more then the ability to get his dick up for Alyssa Milano? Hell I could do that, and would for 10% of that pay then claim some season-long inner rib injury from breathing too hard after nailing Sam with re-runs of Charmed playing the background (Rose McGowan the hottest witch? Discuss).

Poker! Yes, I still play (as shown by cashing in four straight SnGs then forgetting how to read all four cards in the next four and losing in Waffles-like ways). To prove such a thing, I will be traveling to the Mayo Clinic this weekend to play with the Dalai Lama and other celebs in their cushy Presidental Lounge, stocked with the best cranberry juice ever served in those little plastic cups. Or, even better I’ll be dropping in on Oh Captain and his beautiful wife for some home game tournament action. After a greenlight from the wife I couldn’t say no to the gracious invite, not to mention a chance to play live poker without worrying about cleaning off a third pair of shit-streaked Barbie underwear in two hours.

A question for the readers out there (and RSS feed readers now outnumber vistors almost 4:1, odd), should I go the full degenerate route and hit up Treasure Island on the way back? Staying up all night then getting home in time for the Sunday Warm-Up wrap up at PokerStarsBlog? I hear those Top Gun slots calling my name… HIIIIIIIIIIIGHWAY TO THE DANNNNNNNNNGER ZOOOOOOOOOOONE!

Its A Holly Jolly Drunken Christmas

One family Christmas gathering down four more to go.

Is there anything better then seeing bacon wrapped lil' smokies coated in brown sugar while going through the different pot luck offerings that makes you wonder if these relatives just took the contents of their refrigerator and tossed them into an overpriced Tupperware container?

Maybe the open bar can beat that but we'll leave the bacon vs. alcohol debate among those who are far more qualified to wax poetic about such things.

And if you've ever had to throw away something prior to a flight and got pissed about it... here's your hero.

A man nearly died from alcohol poisoning after quaffing a liter (two pints) of vodka at an airport security check instead of handing it over to comply with new carry-on rules, police said Wednesday.

The incident occurred at the Nuremberg airport on Tuesday, where the 64-year-old man was switching planes on his way home to Dresden from a holiday in Egypt.

New airport rules prohibit passengers from carrying larger quantities of liquid onto planes, and he was told at a security check he would have to either throw out the bottle of vodka or pay a fee to have his carry-on bag checked as cargo.

Instead, he chugged the bottle down — and was quickly unable to stand or otherwise function, police said....

Clearly he violated the one drink of water per shot rule.

Any Skins fans that want easy money versus the Vikes? Place your bets in the comments area, I'm currently on a five game losing streak with these damn prop bets.

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.