Continuous Path To Follow

Being a parent brings a different meaning to me everyday, as lacking a grip on this highest of priorities is a fault of mine. There’s a reason to go to work, play nice to those around you, avoid that used condom in the hallway (that was new and disturbing since I don't work in a strip club), and new things to learn upon plopping down with the family at 6pm for dinner while nougat farmers with Sampson-like hair talk about the latest on Hurricane Gustav on the TV.

Milestones are set along a road, some clearly marked, others stand within rough that even Tiger Woods with two good knees would have little chance of making the green out of. There’s potty training, first night getting bailed out of jail for using a fake I.D., college graduation, dressing yourself, first sleepover at a friend’s house, first steps, producing grandchildren, first “A” on a test, and first chat with dad on the backyard deck holding a couple of drinks without the wall of child/father relationship standing in the way.

Yesterday was of the clearly marked variety as Wyatt started school, breaking into the realm of progress reports, making friends/enemies, learning beyond his Leapster and Harold and the Purple Crayon readings before bed. Our walk towards a new life around the playground on the rainy morning didn’t shock like finding your fly open while giving a presentation on data security to the board of directors. It was more about taking in and seeing the “Welcome to your first day of Kindergarten!” sign, watching the little guy go to work on the teacher’s aides and peppering them with questions 60 Minutes-style (as the parents hogged most of the teacher’s time to learn about how the precious one will return home each day), and taking a back-row seat to the little people’s flea circus around the miniature chairs and brightly colored affirmations that adorned the walls.

“Its Hard to be Five” by Jamie Lee Curtis (yes, that one, and I know there's better pics, I'm sure WCP or Al can help there) will be the first book read to his ears by someone not named dad, mom, or nana. First scrapes from the playground, first elation of an art project to hang on the fridge, and other firsts soon to come as this parenting marker is now behind us on one road but with more to come. To continue strolling along or in Wyatt’s case hoping my bad knees hold up while he sprints along this path.

I learn just as much as the guy with the new 20 color Crayola markers and glue stick set going back for his second day today. Maybe more.

Two days till the WCOOP at PokerStars. Are you in?

From Boy to Bigger Boy

Ok, I might understand the teen pregnancy.

But, the husband's TWO DECADE OLD DUI???!?!?! Who, the fuck cares?

Its nanny crap like this that I don't choose a poltical party let alone try to follow every slip of the tongue by the canadiates. Tell me what you're going to about energy, the war, and getting more restaurants to serve chocolate covered bacon bits and you've got my half-deaf ear.

Busy day, look for pics of Wyatt's first day of school. Proud daddy is taking him into Kindergarten today due to the first day we spend the entire time together. 50/50 chance on the teacher asking me to leave due to disruptive behavior with the bean bags and cymbals.

Wish us luck.

Edit: BWHAHAHAHA Sir Charles with the Captain. Color me jealous.

Mash, Mush, Me

It is 4am, and I am a pool of refried oatmeal.

May your Labor Day weekend have been plentiful as I take leave until the kids jump on me in approximately 5 hours.

Laboring for Love

Guess they don't like Fantasy Football at work (or other certain topics on the web)... despite full rows of people chatting about snapping up Tomlinson with the fifth overall pick. Purple Jesus went second right after Fuad Reveiz.

Labor Day weekend plans?

Car
Trailer
Live Poker
Sipping out of a 2-liter of Sun Country Wine Cooler
Golf
Take kids to the park's carnival
Home alone to hit up the end-of-the-month tourney for PokerStars. (Have you qualified for the Turbo Takedown or Battle of the Planets yet??)
Wake up
Last Fantasy Draft where I hold the rights to Purple Jesus

All is good.

Suburban Shadows Show Their True Colors

The nine year old baseball player being ostracized by worthless suburban parents on other teams who think only about themselves and not their kids?

Should be subjected to child abuse laws for turning their kids into pansies. "He throws too hard", "They win too much", "My Jaguar isn't as shinny as hers", "My ass is the size of pregnant hippo"

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Seriously? All those parents are doing to the kids are teaching them its ok to get up and quit when someone is better then you.

Period.

Its not about "safety" because the little phenom has a heater. Its about protecting the egos of the people behind the fence and in the stands holding their camcorders with squirt bottles of Crown and Coke sitting next to them and getting an erection when little Jeffy gets a bloop single during a 18-1 blowout that causes a hugglefest amongst people more selfish then the guy who hordes all the crab legs at a Chinese buffet.

Fuckin tools. Grow up, you're not in high school anyone, the popular crowd still isn't your ticket to getting laid with that four year old condom making an "O" indentation on your wallet. Have the maturity to admit that someone's team/players are better, let your kid try his/her best, then treat your son or daughter to a soft serve with sprinkles at the DQ afterwards while chatting about the game. Show some interest in THEIR lives, not your pathetic existence that hinges on a nine year old lacing a drive down the line during little league.

/end rant

Played skillz game, bubbled skillz game. I still love poker (but it would be nice to win more then once a year).

Bash in one month. Al better practice his virtual animal killing, the challenge is accepted.

Next Parenting Stop: Parent-Teacher Conferences

Not sure what set off the stampede towards this web page over the weekend, but I do know there’s some horny Iranians looking for Amanda Beard photos.

Apparently, I am still the authority on Lea Thompson’s ass: WOLVERINES!!! (you're a commie pinko if you don't watch Red Dawn everytime it pops up on TBS). Mrs. Thompson is not to be confused with Lea Walker. My my, you could float downtown Minneapolis on those things.

Spent the night out on the deck with perfect weather, a decent stout, and bugs finding something else to cause irritation to. The kids managed to beat up on each other less then usual while hacking around the yard with their minature set of golf clubs. God forbid if they ever get hooked on the game, I'm not sure if duffing a 80 yard approach shot after crushing a 350 yard drive is more tilt-worthy then watching yourself get quartered after the final two cards come off the deck after being air tight for a scoop.

I vote for the chunk of sod, unless there's an attentive beer cart chick providing blood pressure lowering macro brews (or a Cap'n Coke if you're so inclined).

The boy is set to start school-age activities next week, of which I will be there first-hand to see him off to the brave new world of academia and heart breaks. The parents are required to spend the first day of Kindergarden with the kids and since I'm more about eating paste then acting my age, I was elected to hold his hand into Ms. Hilstrom's classroom next Tuesday at nine am. A scary proposition for both of us, as I'm letting go of my first born to the outside world hoping they accept him for who he is.

As documented here, I liked learning, I hated school. My only wish is that my son's easement into "real" life outside of afternoon naps and Nana's freshly baked banana bread in the morning is more joy then pain.

Like a Second Time Virgin

A new found respect for the professional "fluffers" out there.

I just hope I don't screw up your gigs, but damn I had fun yesterday live blogging the Sunday Million Warm-up with Short-Stack. Trust me, it WAS work, but I looked up at it was 7:30 and the wife let out her honey-do list that had waited until I logged off the computer.

I keep looking at the list of people who wrote yesterday and the eyesore of my name does not compute. Those are writers, I'm a numbers and accounting g33k that pretends to form funny metaphors and dark thoughts for the people who read things I post. The smile from last night as I returned August Rush this morning at McDonald's (not a bad movie, ending was a bit corny but strong performances all-around), received my McGriddle freshly made to fatty perfection, and was told that a token from Chuck E. Cheese is not legal tender, still hasn't left.

The number of readers does not matter to me, its the fact that I was able to sit down virtually with peers and friends, and produce something that didn't suck. Now the butterflies of the first time are gone, the hymen is broken, and fine-tuning and astroglide to come for a more enjoyable ride. It may not always be smooth, the words may stink up the joint at times, but its something that means a damn to me. Couldn't come at a more perfect time.

Unlike currently earning money for stockholders, the dividends of this job are going straight home. Mentally and monetarily.

Saturday's Are For Wiping Ass

Saturday's with Pauly.

Bucket of Sweet Martha's cookies.

Cold milk on the nightstand.

And a naked two year old standing while holding a shitty diaper that she smeared on her floor.

I love lamp and yes I'm smiling.

Box of Marbles In My Head

There’s a coldness inside of me that will never be warmed. It comes out some nights when all that can be done is stare out the back window to the unfinished lawn with the highway lights dancing off the maple trees. A flood of muddled thoughts flow through but the clarity for listening to the rants in my head is on par with an 800 number for a credit-card customer service center in Bengaluru. Nothing is understood, deciphered, nor solved. “Fade to Black” running from ear to ear wondering how my ass is sitting on a plush couch instead of worse place where fresh memories are never grown again.

Its not an easy life to go on, to slap on too much Axe musk scented body spray and face the world with a snicker that you get the joke, you understand how pretentious corporate and suburban life can be. Was it a right decision to stick it out, to face more failures, to try and earn the heart of another?

Lost but found, lost again but wandering the streets looking for the right turn for home. One can only hope that once there the smiling faces make the journey back into your skin for tomorrow’s mysteries all worth it. My hope is someday the reflection in the mirror does not hate the person he is looking at.

(don't worry I'm ok, just a little brain and self-loathing dump, can't wait for the 15,000 calorie day at The Fair tomorrow)

Beats Mowing the Lawn

Plane tickets for the Bash: Purchased two months ago but need to figure out transportation and sleeping arrangements. Anyone up for spliting a room/suite/jacuzzi and/or car that is getting into Philly around 11am-Noon on Friday? I have a date on the golf course with the beer cart chick as soon as I touch down in PA.

Plane tickets for Vegas: Purchased two minutes ago, staying at the lovely Imperial Palace from December 12th thru the 15th all by myself. Couldn't pass up $490 for two non-stop flights plus hotel at perfect departure times (could have saved $80 by having a layover in Atlanta coming home?!?!?!). Wife decided not to join me but rather nudged towards a spring break trip if I can earn some extra cash by then. I completely agreed with ruling, and plan to do all the drinking for her at the Geisha Bar so she doesn't feel bad.

This year I demand once again that steak dinner with one or both of the Nardi brothers, but this will only be accomplished by keeping Bobby Blackjack away from the tables and going busto while praying for hognuts within the first two hours of being in Vegas. The likelihood of 1985 Shuttle Run and Pull Up Champ from Michigan actually holding onto a hundo long enough to get a decent Porterhouse are like the continuous Cubs World Series dreams... I guess there's always next year.

Perhaps we can raise some money at the Bash for this. Anyone up for a bar olympics challenge? Choose one of the following bar sports to lose errr... I mean win some money!

- Cricket Darts

- Beer Pong

- Either Cornhole or that Photo Hunt game found at the bar

All challenges welcome, wagers will be taken only if me and Bracelet have a chance at winning.

Yeah I think that's fair.

No one wants to see a sad Spartan losing in Vegas, be kind and rewind, and think of the meat.

Retailing the Retailer

Make no mistake, this minimum pricing ruling hurts you the consumer. The only reason a vendor would care about how much you sell their wares for is image. No, Andre Agassi's image of nailing Steffi Graf on a semi-regular basis is still solid according to various gossip rags. But, a retailer taking say a Gucci purse and selling it for $2 when Gucci said you must sell it for at least $500 is a no-no for the retailer now.

Gucci of course was already paid for the purse by the retailer so why should they care? The profit margin is the retailer's alone unless there's some sort of per-piece sale agreement during a special "sale". Nice work cloaked ones behind the bench, you just made online discounting insolvent. There's a loophole of course and that's to get the product indirectly from the vendor but the middleman will probably eat up too much of the margin to make that worth it.

And knowing is half the battle kids.

Beach Volleyball is the new Baywatch (just not as bouncy and sadly fewer sex tapes). Expect the already popular sport to hit a wider audience as the ladies will be forced to wear g-strings to prevent nasty ass cheek shaffing in the 2009 season. It could happen right?

My wife made the mistake of setting the clock for PM instead of AM, what level of sarcasm should I go for?

Five-year old: Mommy, do you have trouble walking into doors often?

High School kid: Do you see the BIG dot next to the letters "P" and "M" that's supposed to tell you something

Drizz: Yes honey, its perfectly ok to mix up morning and evening just like its ok for me to hit the wrong hole like a rabid bull in Pamplona during our sexy fun time once a month

Hope Betty and The Wife are enjoying their trip, awesome pics go check them out.

Fun For Less Then The Price of a Cup of Coffee

I'm happy the corporate workforce allows for Labor Day off, or the triple lindy of poker blogging at PokerStars with the two end-of-the-month tournaments (Battle of the Planets and Turbo Takedown) along with the Sunday Million, would have me trying coffee for the first time.

Yes, I get through 10 hour workdays after 1-2 hours of sleep, and four hours of getting mauled by two half-pints, followed by 1.5 hours of yelling about how I didn't stack the glasses in the dishwasher according to the correct GE sorting system algorithm last solved by Stephen Hawking.

Why can I? Because I'm still having fun and that's all that counts.

T-Jack looking good, now looking hurt?? If the Vikes can get anywhere near his poise in the regular season and playoffs (yes Herm I said PLAYOFFS) this could be the team to finally make the final push towards a Super Bowl victory. He doesn't need to win games, but needs to make sure he doesn't lose them. Heck, I even saw buttah-fingers Tight End Shiancoe make a nice grab in traffic this weekend. He's a wrecking ball once the velcro has a firm grip, but his hands make Featherstone from Neccessary Roughness look like Jerry Rice.

In other news.... Packers still suck.

I came up with that smack talk all on my own without using Google!

Enjoy your Monday.

Uncharted Territory

My toe in the pool of poker blogging is about to become a foot, maybe even up to my knees.

Stay tuned.

My brief stay in the Mookie last night was more about losing $10 in prop bets to Pauly betting on the last place finishers in the Olympic swimming races (The UK and USA need to learn their priorities!). The poker was the same story of being on the wrong side of variance for an hour, luckily I won my buy-in with a short stint at the $2/$4 O8 tables to make the night a wash.

Glad to see these tourneys are becoming fun again of which you might see more of the over-inflated nurse avatar at in the near future.

Youbetcha Sweet Martha Cookies I'll Be There

Give your right hand a rest tonight while viewing the Brazilian Synco-swim twins at Wicked Chops Poker or a double lesbian dildo sandwich feature at YouPorn.

Its International Left-Handers Day!

I got nothing today except I epically failed to show at the skillz tourney last night but managed to lose both of my SnGs in increasingly normal fashion. Maybe I was just a barely better then break-even player and these last few months are throwing red ink on those profits of four years. If the kiddies head to bed early, and I need some more self-punishment I'll pony up for the Mookie. If not, getting sleep is going to be restless anyway with the Minnesota State Fair coming up next week!

Ok, frozen pickle juice on a stick doesn't exactly have most people frothing at the gash (still top 5 sayings of 2008!) but who can pass up 100,000+ sweaty Minnesotans dashing across the multiple cheese curd stands to see the best 4-H cocks in the state (no pics for the real Rooster)?

I'll be there next Friday, look for the tall shirtless guy with skin tight Absolute Poker PJ pants on, chasing down a two year old in pigtails while holding a 32oz. Leinie Honey Weiss and trying to glance at the chick who needs four bra straps to keep her overinflated water balloons from falling out.

Thumping With the Prez

"Sand in your crotch? Yeah, me too, I call them Democrats though"*

Nice ass. If you're not watching women's beach volleyball, put down the hair products while getting ready to sit down for your DVR'd block of The View and turn on the HDTV for live shots of amazon women jumping and down.

I watched the replay three times of that 4x100 relay for Lezak who came from two continents back to win. Video replay for flipper and trawling motors usage was inconclusive despite the wake being produced.

But if full-contact badminton is more your thing, hit up this video.

Skillz game tonight for the kiddies on Full Tilt, I haven't played in a blogger tourney for almost a month I'm sure my money is missed and may force me to make a donation tonight.

* Not true, and I suck at political humor because I don't follow such nonsense, but I hope you agree she has a great ass

What Comes First: The Chicken or The Egg?

Here’s a little curve ball this morning:

What is more important… the right question or the right answer?

My life was pretty much a straight line for the better part of 33 years. Get a little education, find a wife that tolerates me, get the gold watch and 30 year pension at the bullseye and set my manhood down on a suburban street while my 2.4 kids enjoy the Slip n’ Slide on the front lawn. Then something hit my time continuum like Purple Jesus smashing the hole created by the massive front line of the Vikes.

Poker.

In all honesty, there’s a struggle daily to even look at the virtual cards from watching my online bankroll take a dive into the abyss. I’d like to think there are good plays coming forth from my fingertips but the end result does not increase my stack. There’s no joy in Mudville these days as the thoughts of being a decent player and WSOP contender are gone, left is a shell of knowledge from Harrington and Krieger with a sprinkle of Brunson. But, the game isn’t finished with me as playing live is just a shade under as exciting as Jessica Biel turning over in bed and saying “what would you like to do me?”.

That happened last week, I enjoyed all five seconds of it before it was time to make frozen waffles while watching new school Transformers cartoons.

The online game still lures me in, but more towards writing about it versus watching yet another mouth breather catch to split a pot or scoop after getting his money in so bad Bernie Mac leapt out of his grave to call him stupid. Yes, despite the google junta backlashing the free ad moneys and sending this blog back into obscurity (did I ever leave?) there’s quite a bit of blogging for buy-ins out there, I want to do much as my lanky frame can handle.

I don’t know how to phrase the correct question on which path to leap to or even look at, but the answer seems to present itself daily as status quo no longer piques my daily need for stimulation beyond searching for non-lesbian pictures of Lindsay Lohan on the net.

She's Got Legggggggggs

I would like to thank the Olympic committee for Women's Beach Volleyball in High Definition.

That is all.

My Miracle is Five Years Old

Today is one of those days where reality gets blurred between the lines of what you want, and what you should want. In the past, today’s big announcement of a project I’ve headed from my worker drone position would have me tossing and turning in bed worrying about what four-star general wouldn’t like its functionality. The whispers of co-workers questioning my single digit IQ and their amazement that breathing and walking are motor skills I’m able to complete without a 50 page manual.

Instead my mind is already at CiCi’s pizza flanked by my now five year old son who will tell me about his going under water for a dive stick during swimming lessons today while snacking on a slice of garlic cheese bread. Sure, self-importance and self-esteem is a necessity, otherwise how would you pour that bowl of raisin bran every morning assuring yourself good digestive health for the next ten minutes before taking down a pair of McGriddles and three hash browns. Ok, maybe you personally aren't on a health kick yet, but a positive reaction to that reflection in the mirror should be a goal in life. I watch many peers stake their claims on job titles and pieces of paper. In twenty years those papers will be gathering dust and the basement drawer holding the coffee mug received for getting that promotion will sit dormant.

The memories of a hard backed bench, second-rate pizza slice being held by a glowing face of someone who is glad that you took the time to have sex, and the family that surrounded the parlour with rainbow colored party hats. There’s your self-importance, because no matter how small of a deed, you made a difference in someone else’s life not job.

I’m done being crabby now. Here’s one of my favorite song that never fails to put a smile on my face.

ARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH

Just when I didn't think things could go worse. Blogger eats post that I put a little heart into.

Fuck life.

Better Then Giving a Toaster

If you're planning to play at Pauly's game on Stars tonight, DVR the Golden Girls marathon for once and play.

Do it for the kids.

Do it because you wouldn't want your wife (husband) to look at you like you just told her (him) that your anus is feeling a bit raw after using an Adam and Eve anniversary intimate bonus pack last night while standing next to your mother-in-law and daycare provider.

Do it to give me chips and award me an 8th wedding anniversary gift (yes, hard to believe).

Do it after going to read the latest issue of Truckin'

http://mcgtruckin.blogspot.com
Truckin' - August 2008, Vol. 7, Issue 8Welcome back to another summer issue of Truckin'

.1. Even More Existentialist Conversations with Strippers by Paul McGuire On the third day of Prozac? That pretty much summed up my visit to the afternoon shift. The stripper was drunk, sedated on happy pills, sloppy, and slurring her speech like Albert Finney at happy hour... More

2. Explaining Amphetamines With Words by Sean A. Lovelace See the thing is an injection is a lot like a bullet from a gun, or words of anger, or like kisses—you can't get it back. And that Valium was working, working its way through his body, his veins, slowing things down, slowing, his pulse, his already pretty-fucking-slow pulse, and then he was, he was, well, he was dead... More

3. Black Hole Sun By Betty Underground I couldn't get her face out of my head. Blank and full of jealousy. Not directed at me, but me as part of the female species. As a representative of the sex that threatened her the most... More

4. Separate From Things We Didn't Want A Part Of by Philip D. Brown My friend fell asleep but the girl didn't and though it was dark I could see her watching me. She didn't look capable of sleep or even rest so I told her that I could help. She told me that needles were out of the question because they were an invasion she wasn't willing to accept... More

5. Capistrano By Brad Willis If the doctor says I'm living, he obviously is lying or seriously misguided. If he tells me I'm living, I'm going to laugh and tell him he better get busy dying for me, because somebody fucking has to... More

One Thousand Posts of Hate (and some love)

Laid up today after puking at work after a half hour.

The bad slide playing poker continues and I don't think there's any further abyss I can crawl into. There's no fun to losing all these months yet here I am firing up Stars, Tilt for some backdoor action whenever my liver decides to get back up from the 15 TKO curtesy of the Cap'n this weekend.

Take a beating, ask for more, much like marriage, happy hour with AlCantHang, or your local S & M kink shop. Right now I'm staring at this icon on Stars "EspnPokerPro" in a smallish PLO8 tourney and bile rises from my throat in anger to such a nasty picture that makes getting up for another orange flavored icy-pop to keep whatever hasn't exited my body pass the posted speed limit on its way to my clean bed linens.

I thought I'd mention this is post number 1,000 for the simple fact that we like internet nerds enjoy such stats of futility. I'd offer a chance to win something fabulous but thanks to the Google overlords, yet another long time ad here has canceled. Mix Google tilt with watching my twindling supply of online poker chips and you get a pouty kid here that is being forced to watch Brett Farve: The Reality Show, instead of the punny geniusness of Sportcenter.

Just bring Erin Andrews (shown above) into the studio and watch the non-Boston sports fans viewship skyrocket.

Be Back in Body on Monday

I check raise you two toosie rolls

Edit: Being a former beta tester in MMORPG's, wish I would have hung around to have Waffles pay me off for a World of Warcraft beta key



And say BRETT FARVE or TIFFANY MICHELE'S BREASTS ONE MORE TIME AND...

Edit to the edit: Why I love my wife part 47....

Wife: How much Captain Morgan do you have at home?

Me: There's two full handles (for the drinking inept that's 1.75 liters a piece)

Wife: Oh, well the one at the trailer is only half full so you might want to take the kids and get another handle at Costco

Me: Should I pick up a pallet of Diet Coke and a few bushels of lime to go with it?

Wife: No, go to Cub Foods for the Coke and lime since there's a coupon at home

Your Wii Fit Age Is...

I enjoy gambling.

I enjoy drinking (too much if the situation means no kids, and no consequences beyond kissing the floor for cold spots due to a hangover).

I enjoy the rush at work being under a deadline, or necessary project.

I enjoy porn like every married suburban dad who manages to see exactly one female a day his age except at his usual 9 to 5.

Is there an addiction? Men's Health magazine quiz suggest I won't cheat on my wife and not a thrill seeker, yet I'm supposed to avoid Vegas? What could possibly happen there? End up in a wheelchair and black out a couple of miles from my hotel room after drinking too much?

Stupid internets.

This weekend is set for the guys, cards, booze, and golf. No 4:30am wake up calls. No spousal support to tell me that I'm a terrible driver at every stop light for five miles straight. Just eight guys wanting to smoke a few cigars around a bonfire while imbibing upon ice cold drinks and tales of the days before our wives shot human beings out of their vaginas.

Am I selfish for wanting these types of weekends? Am I selfish for wanting sex more times a month then Dane Cook actually cracks a joke worth laughing to? Is it escapism? No, I enjoy the company of my wife, love all of her, despite her obliviousness to my needs (except one, she's awesome about knowing how I enjoy seeing ya'll). My kids I would die for then come back again to protect them from ever learning how to play Pot Limit Omaha.

But there's an itch. An itch that only gets scratched by letting go. Blogger trips scratch this itch better a $250 an hour erotic personal massager with a happy ending. The locales I've been to may seem day-to-day for some, but for a guy in the suburbs that's locked away from life being created on the streets or near a lesbian bar daily, the trips become memories to be recalled for years to come (at least whatever brain cells survive the alcoholic Normandy invasion).

Maybe some day I'll be able to write about perfect balance between the action seeker and dad-of-the-year. For now there's life to be played out wherever my size 13s take me. A departure gate, a bar in a different state, a bedroom with plastic food toys and smell of a needed diaper change, an office with pictures lining the walls of persons close to me, a back porch with a sweating beer in hand outlooking the unfinished backyard.

For now, there's smirk of happiness, mixed with the itch of needing more. Balance could already be here and I don't even realize it.

Comic-Con: Come Embarrass the Kids For Years!

Work > Me

I give you these pics from Yahoo's gallery of Comic-Con...

The first picture in this row, ignore the plastic face yet nicely curved mother (ok I looked twice). And check out the poor guy ducking under his mother's wing. New form of child abuse when its not Halloween?

The Wolverine dude isn't bad. (In a non-homosexual way, not there's anything wrong with that)

Chick or dick on the right of this pic?

You make the call. Hot or not

Tao of Borgata

My mind has been filled to the brim with domestic-like issues, avoiding poker like the plague, and side-stepping all the mouth-breathers at the Anoka county fair yesterday.

Note to self: Humidity + tired two year old + sweaty bikers + prison tats = Time to go home before getting hung by your colon

Before Kyra managed to start a fight in the grandstands while awaiting my brother's enterance to the Demo Derby, I took some level 14 evasive actions and brought my daughter home or could have faced the (rightfully) pissed off biker trio who were trying to enjoy some warm Schmidt Light and were on the receiving end of a size 10 child size sandles tap dancing their Harley bandanas for five minutes.

Tao of Poker, you've been there, you have seen Pauly's five year giveaway, and even though he's a die-hard Yankees fan (everyone has faults) there's no one better to bring our favorite game to life. Thanks for the sweat, blood, and stripper poles over the years sir.

Running for Air

Wow, could Matt Millen suck any more? Losing draft picks to ineptitude, buttah fingers, and now Iraq? Until the second coming of Eric Hipple, the Nardi brothers will have to settle for the nifty stadium, mack daddy mayor, and overrated wide receiver draft picks.

The Torchlight Run was awesome. The eye-gasm from hot female runners and spoting several faux celebrities made up for the pit bull-chewing-on-my-knee-pain that forced me to drink the samples of Mich Ultra Amber they passed out once those Under Armour workout outfit turned into a pool of sweat.

Among the crowd:

- Large Dog standing on guy's head with props while he clapped.

- Richie Cunningham if he worked out with Barry Bonds' trainer

- Rollergirl from Boogie Nights wearing "New York" across her tight shorts. After viewing the ripples of her thighs I no longer felt the need to split the lower burroughs and went back to gasping for air

- Female George Clinton whom the wife acutely pointed out her jean shorts were getting lost up her spacious ass but the rainbow hair coloring and feather had some appeal

- Che Guvera oddly wearing a Radisson front desk uniform and large Ray-Bans. Attempted to topple the Aquafina booth following the race and failed when the workers fought back with ice cubes and Norwegian swear words

The race from 14th down to St. Anthony's Main rocked for the views of downtown Minneapolis and crossing the Mississippi, but the cluster-fuck of the free snacks, pizza (which was fairly good), and near-beer in a small side park with 5,000+ sweaty runners waiting in a line better viewed as an L.A. traffic jam, needs improvement.

I'm posting the Montgomery Flea Market rap for the simple fact I can't get it out of my head this morning. Riverchasers tonight if the kiddies cooperate. See you there. Its just like, its just like, A MINI MALL!

Fun Run In the Moonlight

Why is it easier to wallow in misery then bask in the sun while putting words into sentences? Writing comes more fluently, 50 cent words dancing within rants about mouth-breathing Arby’s employees who choose to neglect their GED studies while inserting horseradish sauce into the paper to-go bag instead of the requested packets of tangy Arby’s sauce goo that hits my Beef n’ Cheddar like a perfectly placed penis during sex.

What the penis goes into is up to you, I don’t judge anyone. Yet mind the mint level and it shouldn’t burn a week afterwards with a motorcross track of bumps suddenly appearing. Might want to get that looked at.

Watching the final tables during the Sunday Million at Stars over the past month or so has really changed my perception on tournament play. Every player who makes that final table got lucky. Period. View all the CardRunners videos, read Harrington in English, German, Japanese, and Sanskrit, go to a WPT Boot Camp, and it still comes down to cards falling your way. K3o versus Q6s all in pre-flop? Yep, biggest pot of the tournament that awarded $207,000 to first with three tables left not a freeroll. I’m sure the poker geniuses will spout about some level 11 play, pot odds, and their VPIP ratio divided by how many bong hits he took in the last hour. Granted the players who regularly make the cash, make it deep are doing something right by maximizing their wins, but if you don’t get those AA vs AQ all-in preflop for a 1st place sized stack type suckouts (which a well-known, and playing very well internet pro lost with in the final two tables) you’re not going to win.

Still love covering the tourneys though; it really does give you a different perspective on the game which I’ll try once the current gorgeous Minnesota summer weather fades back into the Hades of a Minnesotan winter. Muy thanks to Otis for the opportunity, I sincerely hope that I’m not tarnishing his good name with those write ups.

Tonight I’ll be doing this. The Torchlight Run and adjoining Aquatennial parade is a great jog through the streets of Minneapolis. And I do mean jog as my bad wheel is limited to a tight knee brace with a fistful of Advil after signing up for this several months before the old-man disease pop up while legging out a triple. On the softball field you perverts. I will restrain myself from kicking the first guy I see wearing yellow spandex shorts in the junk, but it may take a few pre-run pints from Gluek’s to do so. Seriously, why do these guys think this is “sexy” or even comfortable, you fail at life if you are a male looking at a mirror and slipping on the skin tight yellow M&M shorts and think “should I hang it to the left or right today for the ladies today?”, then proceed to take a bath an Axe body wash with a spritz of Drakkar Noir.

Females are more then welcome to do wear such things, except the Drakkar Noir. I insist.

Tomorrow expect me to drop in on Riverchasers since this lack of poker playing is building up like gas from eating a pound of bacon with cheesy hash browns at the Waffle House.

It’s good to be happy again.

Vegas Plus One

Plans are being made to attend Vegas in December.

The plan will most likely include the wife since appearently someone asked that she attends...

Who would like to own up to this idea?

Edit: If you're wondering where I am this afternoon ala Twitter-tastic updates, I'll be near this truck.

I Want An "I Win" Button Too

Someone send a note to DP to keep his lacey baby blue thong out of public view or face a fine.

The "duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" sports news section, Danica goes off on someone (why couldn't there be some Axe body spray moment with those racing uniforms being turned into ripped linen), and Greg Norman chokes. Throw in the Vikes lose in the Super Bowl, T.O. gets in trouble, and ESPN spends half of Sportscenter sucking the cock of whatever professional Boston sports team is currently playing and you've got weekend highlight film of sport cliches.

In other news, I continue to feel like this kid everytime I watch my stack go to someone playing 668J all-in preflop during a PL/NLO8 cash game. At least the games are still good to have this sort of level 15 play going on.

Kimbo Having Fun?

HIGHLY NSFW!

I don't follow MMA much but of course have heard of Kimbo Slice...

Could someone who's not at work, not puttering around with the kiddies tell me if Kimbo is in the start of this wonderful documentary of bathroom blow jobs?

Link here.

Changing From Nyquil to Peppermint Lotion

I can have posts from 2004? If I'd found myself writing the below dreck now, there would be a paddleboard in hand to firmly knock some sense into the left side of my face.

Seven are supposed to be lucky, right? You get three 7s on a slot machine and you've won a jackpot! After 3 seventh place finishes in 3 SnGs last night had me on tilt. KK in EP, 4xBB raise, re-raised all in by.... AJo (Ace hits the turn). Sigh. JJ in LP, push all in to get called by.... 78s, flush flops. Sigh. QJo and a board of Q - J - 6 rainbow. Bet, get raised, I push, he flips over J6o YEAH! But a 6 hit the turn. Sigh.

Bad night and I didn't help things by pushing with pocket 8s from EP early in another SnG. I think the advice about playing when you feel like shit should be taken more literaly. I've been snapping at the wife, she snaps back, I take more Nyquil, tilt away some money, no one wins. Tonight I'll be resting and no poker. Hopefully I'll refreshed enough to hit the tables a little bit tomorrow.

One thing jumped out as I went down ghey blog memory road, lots of "fighting, snapping at wife" comments. This typing thing was/is/will be my public clinic therapy. Except without the chlamyida and gonorrhea soup on the seats while waiting for your number to be called two hours later. While the effects of the accident have almost vanished, so has the broken glass shards me and wife used to waddle around in at home. Next time I decide to be on the receiving end of blunt force trauma, I'll phone ahead to the spouse and let her know her Webble has returned and to jump on and enjoy the ride.

Seriously, would you let your husband fly off to Chicago for a weekend of Debbie Gibson wake-up calls and downing a 12 pack of beers overlooking Wrigley Stadium while surrounded by hotties? Sure the day to day stuff isn't exciting as I spent two hours yesterday pleading with the two tax deductions to kindly allow me to retain whatever is left of my hearing by not crying loud enough to drown out even Warthog's nightly mating calls.

I may not be lucky at cards or at avoiding large falling objects, but I found a keeper at home.

Tampering? We Stop at Sex and Ticket Scandals Up Here!

Say it ain't so.

MILWAUKEE (AP)—The Green Bay Packers have filed tampering charges against the Minnesota Vikings alleging the team made inappropriate contact with Brett Favre, a person familiar with the Packers’ complaint told The Associated Press Wednesday night.

The person, who requested anonymity because of the sensitivity of the subject, said Packers officials have expressed their belief that interest from the Vikings was driving Favre’s sudden change of heart about playing football in 2008.

“They feel like Favre had something (in place), and that’s why he was so anxious to get his release all of a sudden,” the person said.

The tampering charges were first reported by Foxsports.com earlier Wednesday.... (continued with link).

Question remains... will we see The Wife move her allegiance to the much sexier Purple and Gold should he get his release? But, the thought of Farve on the Vikes makes me think of The Rooster downing that glass of steak condiment after a drunken day at Wrigley. Gross.

Like A Knife Thru Cheese

Doctor's visit put a little scare into my day, but has turned out ok. I thought I had done a little ACL damage a few months ago but still played regularly despite limping all seven innings like a passive fish in a cash game.

No damage. Take some Advil and call me in two weeks. Rung better then words like "surgery" and "scope".

On second thought I don't know if I'll write up the rest of the weekend in Chicago. Time plus the inability to snag the words I want to describe things like having a Chicago Pan Pizza at the lesbian bar that hit every good feeling nerve while soaking up about two gallons of beer, might just have to stay inside my small mind.

Gentile Summit 2008: Prelude

Memories are made from the unusual, and formed from events within. Being blessed with an understanding wife and friends from the across the different climates, I’ve picked up some memories (fuzzy perhaps) that will be folklore for my own mind later in life while sitting on a porch with a beer in hand and looking out at the ninth hole that has a slight dogleg to the left and bunkers protecting the cloverleaf shaped green.

It amazes me how people with such different backgrounds and lives can gather for 48-72 hours and produce memories that will stick for me as I put my daddy polo shirt back on and resume working within the confined walls of security. Starting out with Chadarama along I-94 heading towards picking up StB in the rat trap maze of detours in downtown Milwaukee, there was mass construction and rain that only delayed my first shouts of PAI GOW! The Potawatomi casino lies in the heart of Milwaukee and gave the first memories of the weekend. A straight-shooting Midwest waitress with several years on her telling me to take the nipple off my last Miller Lite of the night before she takes it away while hitting up the $3/$6 table started the weekend off right.

Poker was reason why this blog was given life and live poker didn’t disappoint with distinct personalities around the table which is why I still love to play this game. The calling station old guy, who had to ask with a voice box tone and assistant to Dr. Frankenstein looks if the action was on him with every street, needed to have the board to read to him if he didn’t have the nuts. The playa with $600 in whites and sideways straight brimmed hat, who proclaimed he was playing for 24 hours straight (this of course prompted me to ask for $1,000 in checks, but I fought the urge to whip out my swinging dick). The aggressive Asian who’s perfectly aligned 40 chip towers were built for superiority and didn’t appreciate half-awake half-deaf poker bloggers calling him down while he showed second pair and losing to a slightly higher pair. The gregarious suit on my left that had a different story for everything, including being a world-class athlete back in 1973 that possibly nailed every upper-crust lady that floated in from the piers of Lake Minnetonka towards the shoreline restaurant he worked at.

After a few hours of puttering around with cards it was time to crash for the evening and gear up for the bulk of the weekend in the Windy City…. (to be continued)

The Worm Returns to Waveland Avenue

But can he breakdance? (image from ESPN.com)

Perhaps a proper write-up after I collect my wits again from the liver destroying weekend in Chicago. But, a hearty thank you to the gracious host DP who's home did indeed smell like ass and beer Sunday morning as the gatorade was passed out to sober up for the ride home.

No homo.

Edit: The Rooster does not sleep, he waits with his eyes closed

Travelocity Icon Goes to Day 3 in the WSOP Main Event

Poor Iggy, may be getting his mug in a picture or TV soon.

GOOD LUCK ON DAY 3!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm outta here, heading down I-94 and I-90 to Milwaukee this afternoon for a prelude to Gentile Summit 2008. And I may or may not be wearing too much Drakkar Noir tomorrow :)

When Is Nap Time?

Please remove the doom switch sometime soon m’kay?

Thank you.

Since poker has decided to slap me around like the trout out of water that I am, I have been adverting my attention to the plethora of other things going on (this is fancy talk for I run bad/I suck/I’m whining like a two year old that just can’t catch a break or got taken home from the park before I was ready to go).

Iggy. Main Event. Be sure to follow the wee-one’s size 1/8th footsteps (here and here) towards poker glory and possible sponsorship from Travelocity should he be anointed as the last midget left in the tournament by ESPN. Not as splashy or as hot as the “last woman in the tourney” as Maria Ho last year (but loved the rail pic from Wicked Chops this year, YAO!) but should he get railbirds like that I'm sure Wicked Chops will be happy to supply a few photos of the top of his head.

Gentile Summit is a mere 36 hours away from a drive down I-94 and I-90 towards Milwaukee to meet up with with StB at Potawatomi casino for a night cap of drinks and donkey poker before moving onto a sober weekend of watching Days of Our Lives and Golden Girls re-runs while playing Bridge and sipping on prune juice with more imaginary internet friends.

Three weeks after that is my annual guys weekend at the trailer/cabin for more late discussions of raising gas prices and possible war in Iran along with a few 18th century literary dissections over tea and crumpets. Fun.

Plus my boy’s first T-ball game next week, and since I’m selfish this is what I’m looking forward to the most. Prepare for cuteness and pictures.

Edit: Just checked since I use Yahoo... Google seems to have issues with this site as well. Who gave them the right to play internet police?

Edit to the Edit: Why the big labeling of "Professional Poker Player" in this sex ring bust story from CBS13? And no mentions of his inability to play pocket 8s in middle position while facing a raise?

Building Up After Crumbling Down

Ten-Eight versus Pocket Kings.

In several years of playing online poker not too many “beats” stand out. Granted before the UIGEA knocked a great deal of my online bankroll off-line, I would be found playing six tables of cash and tournament games at any given time so the beats went through my system like an undercooked burger on McDonald’s. Quick and a little too easy.

Was the above hand my shot to be at the Amazon Room right now, un-bagging my chips and getting ready for Day 2A? Or was it a sign to buckle down and start reading about poker again in hopes that the next time I would have the chips to absorb such a beat and continue on the quest towards a WSOP Main Event seat.

Instead I’m home watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, drinking some Lipton Ice Tea before tucking in the boy with a nighttime story. If there’s a next time, will the Bodog Blogger Tournament shine on me as it did through a couple of late finishes? I guess that’s the whole reason why we continue on after those bad beats, the chance to play again, and hope the odds swing in your favor the next time you play.

Lazy Fireworks

Sunday Million write up in the books.

I'm enjoy a little .25/.50 PLO after destroying a bacon omelet with enough fatty content to slow down an Olympic athlete's blood flow.

Even though "holiday" means time off work, it does not mean time to lounge around in boxer shorts watching 3.5 episodes of Sportscenter while tooling the LAG in the four seat and letting her spew chips with the same intensity of the last hooker on the Amazon room floor without a sorry sap to do the walk of shame back up to their rooms to console their tired souls with a well rehearsed blow job.

Clean the house, clean the trailer, clean ass, all duties that are fine to perform to make the family wheel run but its time-outs like these that make my vacation hours earned at work worth every TPS report I pour through.

Gentile Summit in three days. Hope my right hook will still put the host to shame for losing to a waif like me.

Somebody Needs a New Hobby

This is news? I cry everytime my Aces get cracked and when Lindsay Lohan is not on TMZ, do I get a feature in the local rag?

An open letter to Brett Farve:

Brett,

I would most welcome your return for one game to the National Football League. Your intensity for the game would warm the coals of competition between our two clubs. Remember playing Tecmo-Bowl as a kid and how Lawrence Taylor just flew by the offensive lineman like they just ate a twenty pound bowl of General Tso's chicken with fried rice and a dozen cream cheese wontons?

That's me.

Re-think this "return" before you end up babbling about getting hit by a purple bus while doing easy sudoku puzzles hopped up on vicodin and PBR on the back porch of your home.

Sincerely,
*Jared Allen

**In related news John Madden is currently at home wacking off to Farve's appearent return while spamming the refresh button of ESPN.com in hopes that half of his in-game material will return to play.

Cabin life for me this weekend, maybe a little live poker to write home about. Gentile summit, 8 days, manliness about to run wild on Chicago and aspiring tennis pro DP will be there too. Peace.



* He should write this letter

** Would he use regular crisco or butter flavored

The Killer and Carew

Last night was part parking lot carnival, part day care center during lunch time. The mall in front the Metrodome was transformed into a walkway of overpriced beers and fried foods, along with the only place on earth where its socially acceptable to wear your favorite team logo on more then three items of clothing (unfortunately no Twins logo’d G-strings were spoted).

How could such a crowd afford these gatherings on a regular basis? The beers were $6.50, a Mike’s Hard Lemonade for the wife was $7.75 (ouch), bottle of Sprite for the kids set us back four bucks. Throw in some mini-donuts and tepid cheese curds (if it doesn’t squeak, it ain’t real) and we blew thirty bucks before even stepping into upside down vanilla frosting topped bundt cake stadium.

While watching the Tiggers get demolished by the resurgent Twinkies, there was a re-found love of watching live major league baseball. There’s no description about a 92 mph heater smacking the leather bound pillow of a catcher’s mitt after the overpaid free agent third baseman whiffed like he just got denied at the hotel bar after the game by the words “you don’t make as much as him” pointing to his Cy Young award winning teammate with the Cheshire Cat sized smile.

Even if the team wasn’t winning or putting out a product that stank of two week old Japanese steakhouse sauce that was left out, a love for the game I used to play was renewed and new found respect for guys like Aaron Gleeman who cover this sport with the colors it deserves.

I may be a fluffer's assistant on the rung of writers and bloggers alike, but that won't stop a few bad metaphors from appearing here. Thanks for the straight shooting Pauly, you're hitting a new high (perhaps a bad pun) with the WSOP coverage this year and getting stronger in the late innings.

Artificial Baseball

After seeing Scotty on the front page of Yahoo this morning, how far behind could the World Poker Tour be in sewing up a gig with Fox and/or NBC? Poker is getting to be mainstream and really not that different from your garden variety game show, so what's to say we couldn't have Helmuth ranting over that Queen-Nine offsuit after Agent Gibbs solves another mysterious death involving two Marines and a midnight shopper at Wal-Mart?

Mart was always the first to the ballpark, eager to play or chat with any person within a earshot. Granted with his 60-ish age the ball didn't travel as far off the bat nor did his legs allow for an infield single any longer, but the man's heart for coming out and playing hard finally overcame the silent jokes. Seeing him on the ground last night without any muscle coordination, just a faint breath after hitting the hard-packed infield head first left a little void. And as the ambulance took him to North Memorial with his son packing up the gear left behind, perhaps never to be used again, I'm hoping there will be stories of wooden bats and everyone running out ground balls next Monday.

Tonight's Twins vs. Tiggers tilt will be attended by yours truly, along with my son for his first taste of major league ball in artificial air. Viewing a Twins game in the Metrodome seems like watching roller hockey outdoors, but to many this is the way its always been so watching a ball hit a speaker and come back into play doesn't seem unnatural to fans of the blue and red. The new ballpark can't get here soon enough for some great early May games in the snow!

You're Not in Kansas Anymore

If you had bet me 3:1 last night that Kevin Slowey would have more strikeouts then Sheets in the Brewers/Twins game, I still wouldn't have given action. Something in water down at the Homerdome? But getting a few bucks out of StB never sucks :)

And its not just the Twins, it seems like the whole AL Central is finally waking up to their preseason predictions of being the strongest division out there. Retorts from the great baseball minds?

Free money at Stars is there if you want it. Some bloggers and readers alike may not know about it, but the Turbo Takedown which only cost frequenty player points to enter has a prize pool of $1,000,000. The winner last night took home nearly the same amount as the Sunday Million winner, not bad for a freeroll. And if you're into SnGs, it doesn't matter how high you play because the Battle of the Planets contest for putting together a good run in a block of 20 or 100 SnGs from the micro stakes to the $5,000 head-ups swinging dick level, could net you the $12,500 they gave to first place in the $50,000 freeroll for the ~450 weekly winners.

On a similar note: I really enjoy those write ups, but feel like I suddenly put on regular boxers after wearing boxer briefs for a month. My balls are swinging around too freely and it doesn't feel snug when I'm writing. If there's something my dear friends you'd like to see more of (or less of) in these writeups, please hammer away.

Kat (and Jo) Dragged Me In

I flopped a Royal in a PLO8 cash game and got paid $2.

I played a $1 rebuy tourney and got this:

U.S. Women Open at Interlachen

My wife snagged me a couple of tickets for the U.S. Open at Christmas and today was the today to cash it in since Sunday has me behind the computer and Saturday in the batter's box.

Here are some numbers:

15,000+ - Minnesotans running abOOt the hallowed ground of Interlachen Country Club

15 - American dollars for two hot dogs and some chips

-1 - Annika Sorenstam's score after a 67 today, of which I watched her absolutely nut a fairway wood on a Par-5 within 15 feet to putt for eagle

1 - Women who looked like a Joey Ramone months from death

3:2 - Ratio of shorts to skirts (but no panty shots when looking over a 25 foot double-bending putt)

13 - Number of feet I came from winning a closest-to-the-pin contest in the Lexus corporate tent, winner got an all-expense paid trip for two to next year's U.S. Open. Next time, need more backspin

Nature or Nutured Degeneracy

I've been reading Pauly's excellent stories about Eskimo, Flack, and Vinh and a clouded thought came to mind:

Were they once upstanding married fathers who changed diapers, went to the T-ball games, and help the wife with chores around the house? Suddenly some degenerate gene inside their bodies mutated enough to turn them to the alternate universe of gambling/party-like-a-rock-star?

Many times after staring down the rank three month old garbage smelling load my daughter left in her diaper or another cold shoulder from the wife, I wonder how much easier it would be to give up the picket fence, three bedrooms, and quiet lifestyle of a suburban dad to chase a lifestyle that offers no apologies but comes with no rules, no guidelines, no responsiblities.

For now my love for the kids and the wife keep the gambler inside low enough so I'm plunking around on $50 to $100 tables on Full Tilt and Stars while enjoying a new found love for reporting on Poker.

The question remains, what if something snapped and I end up wheelchair drunk playing $2 blackjack at the Plaza at night after chasing down O8 games with the AARP set during the day on the strip?

Waffle House Dreaming

The beach isn’t for me personally. Sure you could wax poetic about the footprints in the sand having its own lifeline of memories until the tide comes in to erase the slate and start anew every morning. Enjoying the gently rising sun with a wind skipping off the tops of the waves, it was a hangover cure that no perfectly mixed Bloody Mary or pills found at the gas station cash register could match.

But, with my Nordic complexion the sun beats down on me like a nagging wife after too many beers with the softball team. My vacation started with a tree-lined drive to Columbia to meet up with old friends. These friends are not ones that are seen every weekend on the golf course or over at Mama G’s to play some volleyball and swap kids stories with their pitcher drink specials on the patio. Internet relationships are kept via blogs and girly IMs being passed out while firing up some virtual poker or banging away a post to fund the next Vegas trip. Big Pirate was well, big, and flagging me down in front his law firm’s blue painted office that more sense then the blue tinted 84 Lumber yard unless his specialty was lumberjack litigation.

A drive with a couple of co-workers found us on the countryside in front of a older, but well-kept restaurant for some real South Carolina BBQ that this yankee had expressed an interest in. Had I been smart and quicker, one of those squirt bottles of BBQ sauce would have made it into my Full Tilt luggage bag as a souvenir. Best. Damn. Pork. Ever. Every piece soft, juicy, and the spicy mix of hot sauce with the yellow BBQ sauce made my tongue dance. Throw in the small town hospitality of the owner chatting it up and the waitress making sure we were stuffed with the sweetest, best tasting liquid that this normal Lipton green tea drinker ever had, made the experience complete.

Back on the road after moving my belt buckle up a notch, it was time for a Columbia history tour courtesy of the Big Pirate before heading up the highway to invade G-Vegas. The Mexican restaurant sat up top looking down on the motorist going by while the glasses of Otis, G-Rob, and Badblood were in various stages of being refilled as we stepped onto the porch area to relax with a few cocktails before heading over to the host’s home for poker.

“How much money did you bring?” stated the chrome-domed recent winner of many play money chips on Stars.

With that and the addition of Shep and TeamScottSmith, we started the detour-dotted road towards casa del Blood for poker and a prop bet game called “Drizz shut the fuck up”. Classic rock on the Comcast network should have been up my wheelhouse to pick a band that would display their air guitars and bad hair for $5 a song from everyone, $10 if you picked the song as well. But, my choice of KISS and Gene Simmons didn’t manage to bang through the beautiful new TV the host had set up in his living room through the entire night making that the most expensive part of the trip.

A skinny kid in a SnailTrax shirt bellied upto the wonderfully crafted poker table and we were set for a night of card and sarcasm slinging. The poker game doesn’t need the full rehash as the host was most kind in starting me off with a perfectly mixed martini, followed by a bottle of Captain Morgan Silver that I believe I put a decent sized dent into while chipping up via suckouts. After which Otis asked me if I was having a good time due to the ill-gotten gains, but the chips in front of me didn’t have a meaning. I was more focused on seeing people I’ve met thru this space on the internet, and amazed how easy the slipper of friendship was to put on.

Granted ending up a winner for the evening didn’t suck, but I was more focused on enjoy the time even if it got a little fuzzy when the game broke and Big Pirate, Shep, and Scott hauled my rum soaked ass over to the Waffle House for some sobering food and chat (yes Shep, next on my list for a South Carolina trip is to try grits for the first time). Being served by a burnt out looking Michele Pfeiffer with a tattoo on her forearm and a largely-chested female showing ravine-like cleavage in the booth next to me with some tasty vittles of breakfast food topped off what I deemed “my vacation”.

I had a great time with the kids (minus the plane flights from hell), enjoyed the company of my wife, but the few hours I was able to spend with those I’ve met through this page will remain my best memories of the trip.

Thanks.

Two Hours of Sleep Means You Get This

Parenting advice #415:

If the cough syrup doesn't work on the two year old for the plane flight, you're in for a world of hurt.

Be back tomorrow with Southern Hospitality that blew my mind and trying to keep my shit together in light of my darling two year old while on the both plane rides practicing her corner kicks on my leg, the seat in front her, the little air blowy thing, the DVD player, the old crabby guy wanking off to the newest edition of People magazine.

Observations From the Beach: Part 2

- No lights on the beach after 10pm because of Sea Turtles?!?!?! This seriously limited the ability to join in the 20-something party house down the street for naked beer pong competitions

- Heat + Kids + Shopping at the Chareleston Market Square = pain of a jellyfish shocking my nads

- Wife asks if I'd like to drink with her, wife has drink, wife goes to bed after one drink, why does wife bother starting up the drinking to stop at one while on vacation when I was ready to crash without cracking open my handle of Cap'n this evening?

- G-Vegas T-minus 8 hours, BadBlood sounds well prepared, I'm psyched, I probably won't leave with much of my "bankroll" after the Grey Goose martini's start flow however

- I WILL GO TO A WAFFLE HOUSE ON THIS TRIP EVEN IF I'M LATE FOR MY F'IN FLIGHT!!!!

That is all, and seriously Sea Turtles = $1,080 fine for lights being on. W-T-F

Pokerspace.com Announces Pokerspace Crew Cup Competition

Free Cardplayer poker cruises for small buy-ins, time to buckle down again for some excellent prizes out there from Pokerspace.com, details below:

No limit Hold’em poker, weekly small buy-ins, countless freerolls, spirited teams, top notch lessons, amazing prizes, and a dash of friendly rivalry. Only at Pokerspace will you find teams competing against each other in poker to win the Pokerspace Crew Cup!

The first to devise the idea of a Poker Crew competition, Pokerspace gives users a chance to form teams of up to 6 members and compete against each other. Users earn points for their teams, and through various tournaments can qualify to enter the Crew Cup Final. In a final tournament for all the qualifiers, the Crew that dominates will win the final prize. The latest competition successfully ended in June, sending six users on a $25,000 trip to Vegas to play in the 2008 WSOP.

With the completion of our first Crew Competition, it’s time to announce the latest Crew Cup contest. Hosted by Card Player Cruises, Carbon Poker, and Pokerspace, it will kick off July 2nd run until September 27th. The Crew Cup Final for qualifiers will take place on October 12th.

The crews will be battling for 6 all expenses paid trips aboard Card Players Cruises’ 7 night Mexican Riviera Cruise. Starting in San Diego, the cruise will visit hotspots like Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan, and Puerto Vallarta in Mexico and offer several different tours. Possible excursions include dolphin encounters, horseback riding, sport fishing, and city tours. While not only offering your standard cruise trips and amenities, Card Player Cruises features a professional, fully staffed poker room open for the duration of the trip.

Check out www.pokerspace.com for more details, and the chance to win the trip of a lifetime!

Observations From the Beach: Part 1

It is quite warm here.

Today's activities:

- Staring at women wearing bikinis in the manner they were built for.
- Possible heatstroke from golfing while double fisting Yuenglings (damn this is still tasty beer).
- Taking the kiddies to Charleston to the water fountain park and buy tourist stuff.
- Not missing the final cup while playing beer pong and getting laughed at for my on-key replay of "Hott in Herre" complete with white-boy moves that McLovin wish he had.
- Purchasing a cigar or three and enjoying them when the sun decides that turning my skin from arctic white to paddled ass red isn't fun anymore.

Head or Gut?

If you had to choose between:

Arguing with your wife for five minutes and arguing with a two year old for the same amount of time, which would you pick (neither is not an option)

Anyone played one of these super turbo SnGs at Full Tilt? It beats out NLO8 as the new slot machine of poker.

Hope everyone had a safe blogger trip to Vegas, and those in a working capacity at the WSOP a hope for pictures of Kristy Gazes by the pool :)

The Worst Golfing Day Beats the Best Day at the Office

Staring at the clock for vacation officially starts... now.

If you want to get a hold of me next week I'll be here.

Doing this. And this. And getting this while here.

Next Friday I hope to be here, with these guys taking a bunch of these.

See you on the other side.

That Left a Mark

http://twodimes.net/h/?z=4788212
pokenum -h kd kh - 8h td
Holdem Hi: 1712304 enumerated
boardscards win %win lose %lose tie %tie EV
Kd Kh 1433301 83.71 271527 15.86 7476 0.44 0.839
Td 8h 271527 15.86 1433301 83.71 7476 0.44 0.161

Out 8th in the Bodonkey. Hope the blogger who won goes far the ME, I'm a little numb at the moment.

Bodoggie and Orange BBQ Mix Just Fine

Whether you placed 1st or 18th doesn't matter tonight.

Bodoggie. 1 WSOP Main Event package. Let's play.

Saturday: I'll be eating here if there's any luck involved with getting the family shuttled out to Charelston on time. Or snacking on orange BBQ wouldn't be horrible as well.

I've been so busy lately I totally forgot I was going on vacation by the end of the week including bringing Kyra on her first flight! I can hear Pauly groan from the Rio with stories about unrestrained kids on airplanes. We have the coloring books, snacks, and stickers all set, but besides a fifth of Jack Daniels and soda in her Dora the Explorer cup, any other parenting tricks out there for getting a "spirited" child to sit semi-quietly so I don't need to deal with the balding gold card carrying business traveler from Fargo blathering about the wild child who thought my daughter was cute until she decided that a toilet was too inconvenient to dump her Burger King kids meal waste and exclaims over and over "I GO POTTY!" until her degenerate father finally breaks away from his Cap'n Coke while listening to the podcast of the KFAN Power Trip Morning Show to deal with it.

Thank you kindly, and good luck to all those playing tonight. But, I was perplexed by this. Claim he sucks at poker all you want, but outing someone for cheating because you don't understand the play is like going for the anal fisting on the first date without lube. At least ask for the ass before doing so.

Yes, I'm That Guy

I'll be waiting for my free t-shirt and stress ball in the mail from my new gig.

And after last night, I have the utmost respect for those who this on a daily basis. Especially those in the press box currently at the WSOP. Kudos to all of you.

I don't know if I'm shooting myself in the foot by pretending to be a poker blogger, but I had fun last night despite the minimal amount of sleep this morning. Also, if you think the Sunday Million write-up totally sucked, go beat your face with Bobby Flay's corn lined hot waffle iron.

Just let me know if there's somethings I could work on for next time.

Much appreciated.

Edit: in my haze this morning I found this in my inbox....

Truckin' -- http://mcgtruckin.blogspot.com
Truckin' - June 2008, Vol. 7, Issue 6

Welcome to the birthday issue of Truckin!

We have now been around for six years.

1. Ikeaphobia by Paul McGuire
I kept imagining Swedish people in Sweden coming home from their Swedish jobs and sitting down on their Swedish couches and eating Swedish meals cooked in Swedish pans and served on Swedish plates... More
2. The Crucification of Kaminsky by Betty Underground
The diet pills made her skinny. Made her feel excepted in the land of the beautiful. The speed getting her through the days. Coke came at night, when she needed to escape her own mind. Her past... More
3. One Night Out, Part I by Sigge S. Amdal
I noticed that I wasn't alone in the alley, and I looked up quick enough to see a prostitute coughing up a recognizable white substance. She looked up and for a brief time our eyes met. Only one window apart earlier, but out here we were both equally being sick. It was a strange moment of solidarity... More
4. The Reason Why... by May B. Yesno
The place had a less than classy name, The Roamin Gardens, to say little of the fact the only garden about it were two fake, potted palm trees at the front door. A typical sleazy pick-up joint. One in which you feel like everything you touch you can pick-up most anything... More
5. Drafting Richard Petty by Drizz
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... More
6. FLASHBACK - Fukuoka, Phishy City by Tenzin McGruppThe workers are tiny Japanese girls who wear the most adorable white and red uniforms and lovely white gloves cover their tiny hands. They greet you with big smiles and sing a nice happy song to you as the customers pay... More

Good grief. Pretty soon my ego is gonna rival G-Rob's if this keeps up. He'll still have the hair though.

One Place I Never Want To See Corn

Watched "Iron Chef" for the first time.

While most the tasty morsels looked fresh-Wisconsin-cheese-curds-first-day-of-the-fair delicious...

... why the hell would Bobby Flay put corn on waffles?!?!

Dude.

Please explain to the man that is only allowed to rip open packages labeled "Hot Pockets" for meals at home.

Yeah, I Like Pancakes

A Waffles sighting in Mankato trying to get with the hotties on the campus. Hope he hurried back home to yell at the monkey avatar for hitting a gutter-ball straight on him:

MANKATO, Minn. (WCCO) ― Mankato investigators believe women near a Minnesota college campus are being targeted by a stranger with a strange request. Within the past two weeks, the man has apparently approached two sunbathers near Minnesota State-Mankato and told them he was a professional massage therapist.

The first incident happened around 2:30 p.m. on May 25. The man approached a 19-year-old sunbathing outside of her apartment. She told police she just walked away from him after he made inappropriate comments.

A week later, police believe that same man approached another 19-year-old woman sunbathing outside of her apartment a few blocks. Again, she told police he introduced himself as Craig, a massage therapist, and asked her for a drink. She went inside her apartment. "That's where things kind of went awry," said Mankato Public Safety Commander Jeremy Clifton. "He let himself into the apartment after her. And she didn't know he was there." Clifton said the woman told them he touched in her in "private places." Eventually, her protests and screams scared him away.

Investigators began looking into the cases on Wednesday morning after the two girls reported the incidents. According to police, the two knew each other as acquaintances and met at a party on Tuesday night. They began talking and realized they had both been approached by "Craig."

The women gave police a good description. He is about 300 pounds between 5 feet, 10 inches and 6 feet, 2 inches tall. He has a hairy chest and back, a large head, a larger than normal nose, somewhat high-pitched voice and an irritated sore above his upper right lip.

They're on to you, make sure you shave.

The return of drunken poker will not resume this week since work has kicked my ass into a submission hold hard enough to qualify all these TPS reports for a spot on MMAJunkie.com's feature page. You'll have to wait till next week for my easy money.

In other news, while playing poker I continue to feel like a guy who shows up for a game of Russian Roulette with a loaded shotgun and asks to go first. Maybe its variance, maybe its bad timing, maybe its because I suck (my choice) but I need to change something besides my daughter's diapers every night. No, I'm not into reading a poker book but a blog post or two wouldn't kill me as I play less and less yet write more and more (HINT!).

Cabin this weekend, me and Cap'n will become good friends while I plow through another Robert Jordan Wheel to Time series book. If you're into fantasy genre, highly recommended.

17 To Go

At least I didn't suck at both blogger series...


Drizztdj Your WSOP Seat Awaits!
Congratulations Drizztdj!
As one of the players who finished in the top 18 of our Poker Blogger Tournament Series you have earned a seat at the Final on June 10th at 9:05 p.m. ET.
The Online Poker Blogger Final costs nothing for you to enter and will see the winner receive a $12,000 WSOP* Prize Package and all the perks that come with being a part of Team Bodog at the World Series.
Other prizes are as follows:
2nd: T$540 enough to buy into two Main Event semifinals
3rd: T$379 enough to buy into a Main Event semifinal and our weekly $100K Guaranteed
4th: T$270 enough to buy into a Main Event semifinal
5th: T$109 enough to buy into our weekly $100K Guaranteed
Registering for the Final is simple:

* Open the Bodog Poker software and go to "Scheduled Tournaments"
* Select the "WSOP" tab
* Register in the tournament named, Online Poker Blogger Final
Please confirm that you received this notice by sending a reply email.
Good luck and hopefully we'll see you in Vegas!
Sincerely,
Bodog Poker
www.bodogbloggertournament.com

Happy Meal or Filet Mignon?

A quick question for the poker junkies out there then I need to return to the world of poorly crafted Access databases while I yern to know more about SQL and acquire more database knowledge:

Blinds 300/600/75
You have 3,000 chips behind after posting the big blind, folds around to a biggish stack of 22K who limps(!) on the button just three before the bubble of the daily double tourney. The small blind completes and you hold AQo.

Now the following constraints:
- You've already cashed in the other half of the daily double but are at just below par in chips on the other table.
- If you fold you WILL make the double cash before the blinds come around and a bonus for doing so ($20-$50) with the buy-in at $12 a piece, plus whatever happy meal money you receive on this table unless you double up about 15 times in a row (basically a win of $30 + ($20 to $50) - $24) but less of a shot at the $20K+ for the double win jackpot.
- You have zero fold equity from the big stack as he's a decent player (beside the afformentioned limp on the button) and understands live cards = auto-call
- Your 4 year old son thinks its a great night to test dad how many times I can get up before dad is forced to watch the second half of the Star Wars trilogy on DVD with George Lucas added features!!!11111
- Porn searching has come up dry this evening and you would rather just go to bed after not getting a shot at Smokkee's bounty in the bodoggie

After answering, please return to the WSOP coverage including CK's $1,500 O8 tourney recap.

Last Kid Picked For the Kickball Team

Getting an email from Reunion.com claiming: David, You Scored!!! 0 people have looked at your profile!

That's me. Mr. Popular back in high school. All 120 lbs. of tightly wound nerves with a black cloud hanging over my head, and a sense of fashion that was better suited for an all-day physical education class. I didn't hate high school, loathed it with exception of close friends that tamed the daily insecurities. Maybe a self-gazing story for the future as to why the 1,000+ people I marched with down the floor of the newly minted Target Center back in 93', aren't rabidly trying to find new pictures of my two mobile tax deductions in toddler clothes.

And for those wondering why you go through all the tantrums about that McDonald's happy meal Iron Man (or is it Speed Racer now?) toy you won't open until all of their wonderfully hand crafted food is gone? Check out AJ putting on a hitting clinic over at Speaker's site. That's why you go through the kicks to the nads after being told no more MarioKart (I've managed to keep my disappointments of the wife telling me to turn off the Wii to punching out a few walls), the peeing on the carpet because taking off clothes in the porch seemed like the right thing to do, and making good on those t-shirts proclaiming "Patience Tester" in sparkly pink letters across her chest.

If you're here for poker, I'll direct your attention to a few places:

- Tonight's Bodog is the last one before their Tournament of Champions next week and I managed to suckout enough to sit out the last three tourneys with an iron-clad seat at the 18 person Sit and Go for the $12,000 WSOP package. But tonight, T$270 sitting on the head of Smokkee is too much to pass up. If you think getting bad beat with ragz is hard, wait till you see the cards pushing him all-in when the bounty nearly exceeds the prize pool.

- WSOP coverage. Go now. See these people. Be the armchair fanboi sitting in your cube instead of smelling a perfectly crafted Cap'nCoke in a Milwaukee Beast Light plastic cup next to a Scandi kid that overplays his suited Kings in a PLO8 cash game with "TV" poker-stars chatting up behind you about where the profitable games are at tonight along the Strip.

- Jason's got a great article on Nolan Dalla chatting about poker and Stu Unger over at Pokerlistings (part 2 of 2)

- And if I'm missing you its you, not me (shoot me an email please, I've been a tad busy and feeling older that Ruben Sierra trying to lace up his cleats for his 48th major league baseball season)

Wii Fit: Improves Your Sex Life

After seeing this video, I'm hustling out to buy the wife some nice workout shorts

Is It October Already?

34 Bags of Wet Leaves and Twigs (click for picture if reading from RSS feed)

After getting creamed playing PLO/PLO8 SnGs at Stars last night (but strangely profitable at Full Tilt), my body wasn't ready for the clean up necessary in the yard due to some gusty winds and hail that pounded the Minneapolis suburbs last night.

I think I managed to sweat out all the Duvel and Cap'n Cokes consumed last night after the last bag in the backyard was tied.

But, Wyatt and Kyra are wondering...

Who's coming out to help with the front yard?