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I'm a Bootlegger

Date: Sun, Jul 8, 2007

I'm so live blogging this for Joe Speaker . . . . .

The following events occur in real time . . . well sort of. Just no Jack Bauer. And no Blackberry. Only the short stack attack.


Thursday, June 28th

4:00pm . . . spoke to BG and decided to cut out of work early.
4:30pm . . . arrived at BG's Hotel room.
4:31pm . . . Daddy arrived and we got super high. We left soon after to go eat and hit a concert at Central Park.

5:00pm . . . Ate at Mickey Mantle's restaurant and started our binge.
6:15pm . . . . Arrived at Central Park's Summerstage for the Levon Helm Band concert. Daddy and BG are HUGE fans. Rain in forecast.

6:30pm . . . . we're drinking beers and Daddy gets hit on by some cute 60+ year old woman. I think she wanted to check Daddy's oil.

7:00pm . . . . I lean over to Daddy and BG and tell them the fat black guy in the opening band is a pretty good singer.

7:01pm . . . . Daddy says, "That's a girl actually. But yes, she can sing for a fattie."

7:30pm . . . . Found out Joe Speaker wasn't making it to NYC. Seriously bummed out . . . . booooo!

8:00pm . . . . smoked some weed in the park and watched some 50 year old chick with huge implants walk by. She had next to nothing on and was wet from the slight rain fall.

8:05pm . . . Daddy shakes his ass to the music.
8:30pm . . . . things get fuzzy but I remember Big Pussy making an appearance on stage. Vincent Pastore is a big Levon Helm Band fan and waved to the crowd.

8:35pm to 10pm . . . much weed and beer consumed while the Band kicked ass.
10:15pm . . . BG pisses in Central Park on way back to hotel. I was proud.
10:30pm . . . Back at hotel, got high and watched a little of the NBA draft. Shocked at all the trades.

11pm to 1pm . . . Drank at Peculiar Pub on Bleecker Street. Just missed The Rooster. Lost $60 playing liar's poker with Daddy and BG. I suck at that game! Daddy downed a shitload of Three Philosopher's beer. We prop betted on our hot waitress' age and birth month. I guessed her age right and Daddy won her birth month. I also bet BG I could pick the exact month she was born. He gave me odds but I lost.

1:30am . . . BG and I eat pizza while Daddy searches for a killer roast beef sandwich with the works.

2:00am . . . I puke hard after we get off the F train. The pizza tasted much better going down.
2:30am . . . Everyone decides to call it a night. Daddy said his roast beef sandwich was bloody and it slayed.

Mash.

Cue music please . . . .


Friday, June 29th

12:30pm . . . After some sleep, it was downtown to the hotel BG was staying at.
1:00pm . . . We met up with Iggy and The Rooster and decided to grab some lunch.
1:05pm . . . . called F Train to see what he was up to. He said he was already at lunch. He sounded like he was at a business lunch or something.
1:15pm . . . . we arrive at a packed Carnegie Deli and decide to go to some coal oven pizza place instead. Before we leave, I see F Train through a window eating lunch with some chick. So random. ABC. Coffee is for closers.

1:16pm . . . F Train comes out of restaurant to stop 5 idiots from tapping on the glass and pointing.

1:30pm . . . We all fall in love with the hostess at the pizza place. She was an 18 yr old girl from Spain. The Rooster had me on tilt all weekend when he got her number before me. Booooo!

1:45pm to 3pm . . . . We crushed several pizza pies and met up with Speaker's friend Eric. Drank tons of beer and waited for Donnie and Cool Breeze to show up. They've known Speaker the longest.

3:30pm . . . . super baked hanging out with BG, Daddy, Iggy, The Rooster, Eric, Donnie and Cool Breeze. 8 drunks getting high wishing Speaker was there. Long live Joe Speaker!

4:00pm . . . . BG and Iggy go check into a hotel near 42nd and Grand Central Station. The Rooster goes home to kick out his booty call from the night before. The rest of us continue to get wasted.

5:00pm . . . We all meet up at Jimmy's Corner near Times Square. F Train shows up after work. We run up a huge tab and get all types of fucked up.

5:30pm . . . . We hear of Speaker's band exploits as well as his penchant for smoking cigarettes during the half time of his soccer matches.

6:00pm . . . smoke first bowl outside Jimmy's with Daddy and Iggy.

6:30pm . . . seriously wasted.

6:45pm . . . the pot smoking rotation starts as we go in groups to smoke outside the bar.

7:15pm . . . Mr. Hyde makes his first appearance.

7:30pm . . . smoking out side with Donnie and Iggy when I mention my upcoming trip to Las Vegas. I had a trip planned with my mom and some family members. I wasn't looking forward to it at all. I knew it was going to be a huge headache but it was Las Vegas, right?

7:35pm . . . . Donnie asks me when I was last on a family vacation. Over 15 years ago. It was a trip to LA of all places. It was shortly after Rodney King got his ass beat by the LAPD.

7:40pm . . . Donnie asks Iggy how he got his pint of beer outside the bar. Iggy shrugged his shoulders, put his pint down on the sidewalk and lights up a cigarette.

8:00pm . . . got a voice mail message from Mustafa. He was calling me from the joint. His message included a bad beat story. Too bad I can't charge the dude for listening to it. He asked me to send him some cigarettes and matches. Vaseline too? He was hurting after he had his two black aces cracked . . . . by one of the guards.

Was he a cracker?

Nope.

Mustafa is boycotting his meals and refusing to shower. He's hoping for house arrest with a lo-jack.

Cell phone pics of him going to the bathroom are welcomed.

His parting shot before he hung up?

He promised to never spend another dime at a Hilton hotel. He ain't giving that rich bitch Paris another penny of his money. Damn crackers.

He'd still nail her though.

8:15pm . . . . drink, drink, drink. I think the workers at Jimmy's are starting to hate us.

8:30pm . . . . decide to grab something to eat down the block. Some of us split up and go to the Heartland Brewery for burgers.

8:45pm to 11:30pm . . . This is when things get super fuzzy. Soxlover showed up and drank with us for a while before some people started to take off so they could get up on time for the Yankee game at 1pm.

11:30pm . . . Daddy, The Rooster, F Train and I get thrown out of a bar. Boooo!

12:00am . . . The Rooster and Daddy start to sway on a regular basis and can not stand still during conversations. FTrain and I both look like we're going to puke at any moment. We don't though. No one falls down either.

12:15am . . . . F Train bounces and the three of us go uptown to the Barcelona bar that has those Top Gun shots.

12:30am . . . I bust out my glass pipe on the street and we smoke a freshie. The Rooster is a multi tasker. He was hitting the bowl, talking on his cell phone and trying to pick up some chick who was walking by. Then he proclaimed to no one in particular that he hadn't been this high since this morning.

1:00am . . . Daddy was on a mission to duplicate his roast beef experience. We went on a search and found some. Unfortunately, it wasn't as bloody.

1:05am . . . Daddy orders a double roast beef with the works, potato salad and pasta salad.

1:06am . . . Daddy reaches over deli counter and grabs a HUGE slice of pizza and downs it in less than 30 seconds.

1:10am . . . armed with our food, we head off to wake up Donnie and Cool Breeze. Daddy's bag was still in the room from yesterday.

1:12am . . . on the way to the hotel, Daddy asks me what I have in the bag I'm carrying. I tell him we bought roast beef, potato salad and pasta salad. Daddy said, "Nice, mine is a double right?"

1:15am . . . Daddy asks me what I have in the bag. I tell him we bought roast beef, potato salad and pasta salad. Daddy replies, "Nice, mine is a double right?"

1:17am . . . Daddy asks me what I have in the bag again. I tell him we bought roast beef, potato salad and pasta salad. Daddy says, "Nice, mine is a double right?"

1:20am . . . We got to the hotel and Donnie and Cool Breeze were passed out with the door chained. We couldn't get in the room. We had the door cracked open and they were snoring their asses off.

1:30am . . . We took off but not before I christened the Salisbury Hotel. I pissed in their stairwell. Daddy ate some potato salad while he waited.

2:00am . . . We hailed a cab and Daddy stops me before we get in. He wanted to know what I had in the bag.

2:30am . . . . we ate our food, got high and crashed some time around 3:30am.


Cue music . . . .


Saturday, June 30

9:30am . . . Spoke to BG and we're both trying to wake Iggy and Daddy for Monument Park.

10:00am . . . Iggy is up but Daddy isn't. Daddy asks for 30 more minutes.

10:30am . . . Daddy says Monument Park isn't happening.

12:00pm . . . We meet up with the gang at Billy Martin's and drink a bit before game time.

1:00pm . . . . BG, Daddy, Iggy, The Rooster, Eric, Donnie, Cool Breeze, F Train, Bobby and myself go the game and watch the Yanks get slaughtered. Oakland won. Thanks for the tickets Speaker!

1:30pm . . . It was fucking hot at the Stadium. Iggy decides he's watching the game by the beer stand so he can sneak into the bathroom and smoke cigarettes. Smart man.

1:45pm . . . Donnie shows off his Mr. Burn's tattoo.

4:00pm . . . the Yanks officially suck ass and we go to a bar across the street from the Stadium.

5:oopm . . . we remember there's a bowling alley in the bar. Bowling hijinks ensues and Bobby Bracelet shows off his skillz. F Train didn't break his arm throwing a bowling ball like you would think would happen. 130 pounds of fury must have been 120 pounds of fury after sitting through that heat at the Stadium.

5:45pm . . . The Rooster decides he wants to bowl shirtless while bowling. Bobby out bowls everyone using his left hand. PDW!

7:30pm . . . F Train crushes the winner takes all match but Bobby was bowling with his weak hand.

8:00pm . . . after drinking, smoking and bowling, we decide to split up. Some of us go home, some to eat and some to drink.

9:00pm . . . ate dinner with F Train, BG, Bobby and his girlfriend. First time meeting her. She was hot and cool. Two great qualities.

10:00pm . . . met up with Daddy, Iggy, The Rooster, Donnie and Cool Breeze at the Boat Basin on 79th and River Ave.

11:00pm . . . Smoke some serious bowls down by the docks with Daddy, Donnie and Cool Breeze.

12:00am . . . The Rooster is sucking face with some hottie at the bar.

12:30am . . . Iggy and The Rooster are cut off.

1:00am . . . Daddy, Cool Breeze, Donnie and F Train bounce while Iggy and I try to be good wing men and help The Rooster out. His mark had a friend with her so we tried to hook the pimp up but we failed. Boooo.

1:30am . . . . The three of us stumble out to hail a cab so we can get Daddy and head over to Carnegie Deli.

2:00am . . . We all order the Woody Allen (corned beef/pastrami) sandwich. Here's a pic.




2:15am . . . I text message Soxlover to tell him that The Rooster and Iggy are eating matzoh ball soup.

2:20am . . .. Soxlover texts back a lachiam.





2:25am . . . The Rooster tells the entire restaurant that ARod is going to need back surgery after the season. People were confused because that was news to them. The Rooster said ARod's going to need that surgery after carrying the Yankees all season long. The restaurant erupted in laughter.

2:30am . . . No mas. No one was even able to finish half their sandwich. Even Daddy was crushed by the Woody.

2:31am . . . Several mishaps occur and things get spilled and broken.

2:35am . . . we order some 5th Avenue chocolate cream pie that kicked ass. Daddy wanted a whole pie but we settled for 2 slices for the table and couldn't even finish that.

2:40am . . . We had like 10 pounds of leftover meat from our trip to Carnegie Deli. $123 tab. So sick.

2:45am . . . We put Iggy into a cab and said our goodbyes since he was leaving early Sunday.

2:50am . . . finally grabbed Daddy's bag from Donnie's hotel room.

3:00am . . . . Got into a cab with The Rooster and Daddy. The cab driver from India agreed to make two stops. One at 110th Street and one at 238th street. The Rooster passed out in mid conversation with Daddy and me. He went from talking to snoring inside of 1 second.

3:15am . . . After we dropped The Rooster off, the cabbie decided he didn't want to take us up to the Bronx and tried to drop us off somewhere in Harlem. I bitched at the guy and got him to take us out to a safer area instead.

4:00am . . . we finally got home after getting another cab.

Here's a pic of Iggy. Since he's a wee man, we had to get him a booster seat but that wasn't enough. The waiter kindly stacked two phone books under the booster seat so Iggy could reach the table.




Cue music . . . .



Sunday, July 1

11am to 4:30pm . . . Daddy got the McG Sunday special. He sat on my couch all day, smoked weed, played online poker, watched the Yanks play and ate a big meal from the local diner.

Mash.

Great times.


Cue music . . . .


* * * * *


Monday, July 2

9:00am to 5pm . . . I went to work hurting from the weekend madness. I work for an insurance company that writes product liability insurance for the adult novelty toy industry . . . aka dildos. Thankfully, it was a slow day at the cracker factory. Smoked lots of cigarettes, did some work then went home to get high and pack for my Las Vegas trip. Rumor has it that our office trip to Italy has been canceled and replaced with spaghetti night at Papa John's. That and I have one co-worker that looks like Millhouse and another that looks like Napoleon Dynamite. The funny thing is that the Napoleon lookalike is a girl.

9pm to 3am . . . Mashed some online poker at FTP.


Cue music . . . .



Tuesday, July 3

1:30pm . . . . arrived in Las Vegas. Checked into one of those penthouse suites at the IP. Jacuzzi included. Sick.

2:00pm . . . Ate a meal with Pauly and my family at the Mirage. Walked by their Carnegie Deli and smiled. Viva la Woody Allen!

3:00pm to 11pm . . . Spent the entire day walking around doing the tourist thing with 4 family members not named Dr. P . . . . booo. Did not gamble once today. Double booo!

11:30pm . . I was in bed like a pussy since I had to get up at like 7am. I was working on only 3 hours of sleep anyway.


Cue music . . . .


Wednesday, July 4

7am . . . ate at IP's Teahouse for breakfast.

8:30am . . . got drunk playing video poker at the bar.

11:00am . . . lost playing blackjack.

1:30pm . . . Ate at the Wynn Buffet and slayed it. 3 hours of pure sickness with Pauly and family.

3:00pm . . . did tourist shit then lost more money playing video poker and blackjack. So rigged. Still haven't played any poker.

7:00pm . . . walked around some more and watched the replay of the Coney Island Hot Dog eating contest. Joey Chestnut slayed the 5 time defending champ Kobayashi . . .. 66 to 63 dogs in 12 minutes. Unreal.

9:00pm . . . saw a few firework shows from the penthouse terrace. The Hilton threw the biggest one in town from what I saw. Damn crackers.

11:00pm . . . My mom and aunt love playing the slots. Their two cousins don't gamble much if at all but we got them hooked on it in no time. After I explained what a progressive slot jackpot was, they couldn't stay away from the Wheel of Fortune machine. Grubby would be proud.

1:ooam . . . went to bed fairly early for Las Vegas but I was run down in the 110+ degree desert heat. Strangely, for a portly gent, I didn't sweat much.


Cue music . . . .



Thursday, July 5

9am . . . woke up after skipping breakfast. I planned on raging so I got a couple of extra hours of sleep in.

10am . . . went to the Rio with my mom and aunt. Mom thought the Rio would be a dump and was pleasantly surprised by it. It also didn't hurt that she could use her Total Rewards card there. Junkie.

11am . . . walked through the Gaming Expo they had going in one of the ballrooms. You had to cut through it to get to the Amazon Room. There were plenty of strippers and hookers working the booths. They even had a hooker pole set up in the room. Classy indeed.

12noon . . . brought the family to the Amazon Room where it was fairly empty except for cash games. Phil Laak and Antonio Esfandiari were playing some heads up poker on the main stage using one of those video poker tables.

12:30pm . . . John Caldwell sighting.

1pm . . . Tried to eat at the Tilted Kilt for lunch but it was closed. Boooo!

2:30pm . . . Saw Lou Krieger at the All American Grill when we were leaving.

3:00pm . . . back at IP and still bleeding money at the blackjack tables. Blackjack seemed like the best game to play when family members were hitting the slots from casino to casino. Poker just didn't seem to fit into the trip. Maybe later tonight?

4pm . . . . My 60+ year old cousin blew through his gambling budget so he had to dip into his emergency cash fund. He went to the restroom to take some money out of his shoe. Nice.

4:30pm . . . My mom, aunt, their two cousins and myself headed over to Caesar's and the Forum Shops to putz around until our dinner reservation at 6pm. We were going to eat at the Trevi with Pauly and Change100.

5:30pm . . . There was a Pete Rose sighting at the sports memorabilia shop. I laughed because last week BG and I were just talking about his incident with the Hit King last year. Coin flip anyone?

6:00pm . . . Dinner time!

6:30pm . . . My mother was on a rampage looking to pick a fight with me. She caused a slight scene shortly after the food arrived. Change100 looked a little uncomfortable. I leaned over and mentioned that was barely a 1.0 on the Richter Scale.

6:45pm . . . tension is relieved when my cousin drops a huge chunk of lasagna in her purse. So damn hilarious. Great meal.

8pm . . . went back to the IP and got drunk while playing video poker.

10pm . . . took a nap and woke up around 11pm. My mom and aunt were in bed after a long day. I went downstairs with thoughts of poker.

11:30pm . . . screw poker. Decided to walk around and look for girls instead.

1:00am . . . . no luck in all departments. Lost money playing blackjack. Was stuck almost a grand playing video poker and blackjack. Boooo.

1:30am . . . walked into O'Shea's to take a piss. I headed over to the bar where I find two girls doing double shots of Patron. My kind of girls! WWTRD?

What Would The Rooster Do?

ABC.

George Costanza would take this opportunity to do the opposite of what he normally does.

I pushed.

Short stack attack.

Approach. Check. Introduction. Check.

Mention the jacuzzi in my room. Check.

All-in on table 69.

They bite.

Coffee is for closers. But I don't drink coffee.

Doesn't matter.

They mentioned they were from Idaho.

Do you know the Heads?

I took them up to my room next door at the IP . . . I closed within 15 minutes of my approach. Even blind squirrels find nuts once in a while.

Got up to the room.

WWP&GD?

What Would Pablo and Gracie Do?

Smoke a freshie.

Check.

Independent George is getting happy!

2am . . . jumped into the jacuzzi with the two girls. Everyone is butt naked. They claimed to be strippers. One of them looked like one but the other didn't. After that, I kept expecting them to ask me for money but that never happened.

Threesome.

Completely shaved.

Thank you Allah!

Loud noises bad.

Thanks for the penthouse upgrade Dr. P!

Took 3 showers in less than 4 hours . . . . I'm not an orgy guy.


Cue music . . . .



Friday, July 6


7am . . . "Get the fuck out please." That was me to the two chicks. My mom and aunt would be getting up soon and I knew one of them would open the door to my room after a knock. I suck.

8am . . . Breakfast at the shitty Teahouse. grrrrh.

9am . . . The Rooster calls my cell. He says I'm a pussy for not running it twice with those strippers. I agreed.

10am . . . Head over to the Bellagio. It was practically empty.

11:30am . . . Dim Sum at the Gold Coast rocked. VICTORY!

2:30pm . . . stopped by the Rio again. Walked around the Expo area with a hard on.

3pm . . . Michalski and Friedman sighting.

4:30pm . . . . My mother and aunt went to the magic show at Planet Hollywood. Hans Klok with Pam Anderson. I skipped it and decided to gamble instead. Zero chance of Pam being naked so I figured it would be a waste o f my time.

5pm . . . Do I play Russian roulette again? I have phone numbers. What's the play here? I gambled instead. A fool? Perhaps.

10pm . . . After winning some money back playing blackjack, I went to a late dinner with family. Crashed around 11:30pm hoping to wake up around 1 or 2am to head out for some craziness. Never happened. Probably best since I had to get on an airplane Saturday.


Cue music . . . .


Saturday, July 7

9am . . . Skipped breakfast and started betting $100 a hand at blackjack . . . chasing my losses while baked out of my mind. Grubby would be proud.

9:45am . . . . up over $1,000 when some pit boss comes around the rope to talk to me. I don't have a casino card. She was hot but also a damn cooler. I lost all my profit shortly after my conversation with her. I hit blackjack 4 times at that table but still walked away down $200 for the session. Mental note: Quit while ahead.

10:30am . . . . went over to O'Shea's to eat a Subway sandwich. Watched three Dutch reporters from Poker News fumble through their order. High-larious.

11:30am . . . get voice mail messages from both strippers. I must have given them my number and not remembered. They wanted to hang out but I was leaving for NYC soon. Fuck me, Independent George is getting angry.

1:30pm . . . get to airport for flight home.


Cue music . . . .



Sunday, July 8

1pm . . . I'm home on my couch experiencing the McG Sunday Special. Relaxing and getting high until Entourage comes on. Tough day for me.

2pm . . . Just checked my cell and I got two more voice mail messages from those strippers last night when I was flying home. They wanted to hang out. Bad timing indeed. Get a good look Costanza?

4pm . . . Just got out of the shower and noticed I have two new messages in the last 15 minutes. The stripper originally from Belize (no clue how she ended up in Idaho) called me twice.

5pm . . . The Belize stripper called again and said her friend from Idaho stole her money and took off with plane tickets. Haha. What's the play here? I have not called back. Probably won't.

WWJB do?

What would Jack Bauer do?

Hit the doctor's office and get an STD test, I'm sure. And then some.

I'm a bootlegger, damnit.

I'm live blogging this.

So it goes . . . .

Read Full Poker Blog Post

Blue Parrot Stud 8 Part Two

Date: Mon, Jun 18, 2007

We played Stud 8 at the Blue Parrot again. This time Coach finished in 3rd place. I was second in chips when we decided to chop. Ferrari got first place money and I took down 2nd prize.

We played some NL cash games afterwards and I felted Ferrari 3 times in front of his girl which was awesome. I did it with junk hands too . . . J7s, Q5o and 97s.

Viva la NL!!

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Blue Parrot Stud 8

Date: Sun, Jun 10, 2007

I'm the 7th best Stud Hi/Lo player out of 8 Blue Parrot players.

That's going on my resume for sure.

The donkeys in seat order . . .

1. Ferrari
2. Ugarte
3. The Rooster
4. Mike
5. F Train
6. Coach
7. Dawn
8. Me

Mary dealt for us and did a great job.

There was a chop when it got down to three players. Dawn had the chip lead and got the biggest payout. Mike the ringer took second prize with F Train getting third place money.

We played some micro NL after the tourney.

Ferrari felted me on one of the first hands in the cash game. Neither one of us got there but his AK was better than my AQ.

REBUY!!

I felted F Train a few orbits later. I had the unsuited Jaxia and flopped two pair. J-9 is gold damnit.

Especially against J-2.

Hee haw.

-$101 for the night.

Congrats to Mrs. Spaceman for winning the blogger tourney!!

Read Full Poker Blog Post

The New Blue Parrot

Date: Thu, Jun 7, 2007

Oh boy . . . I'm gonna head down to Ferrari's tonight for some poker action. Haven't been to his new place since the old Blue Parrot closed down.

Should be fun . . . we're gonna have some Stud 8 action going on since Coach is playing in that event at the WSOP this year.

Coach better watch out because The Rooster is one cagey mofo.

Slay.



* * * * *


It was The Rooster's birthday about a week and a half ago . . . went out for drinks and dinner with him and his posse. Needless to say, there was a shitload of ladies there to celebrate his birthday. Yes!

ABC.

F Train and Mary partied with us too. We had way too many bottles of tequila that night. I'm still sweating it out.

Great times.

The best part of the night . . . three different people walked up to me and asked if I was The Rooster's brother.

Viva la Tequila!

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7 things . . . . Ode to Gracie and Human Head

Date: Fri, May 18, 2007

Only because Gracie and Head tagged me . . . well that and # 4.

1. I'm hooked on the boob tube. It started as a child. I owe my addiction to shows like the White Shadow, the Fall Guy, Good Times, What's Happening, Greatest American Hero, All in the Family, Three's Company, the A-team, BJ and the Bear . . . . the list goes on. I just can't get enough of that damn thing. I watch way too much TV but who needs intelligence anyway. I just get my facts from the tube. If it's on TV, it has to be true, right?


2. As an altar boy in grammar school, we used to steal wine as well as the Eucharist from the Sacristy . . . . especially after funerals. If it was a weekday funeral, we'd head back to class a little tipsy and high on J.C. Thankfully, no one was ever molested. Please keep your hands to yourself . . . especially the priests, thank you.

3. I can't swim.

4. I jumped off a bridge in Pennsylvania once . . . . literally. The year was 1995. Why? Because my friends were doing it. Mom would be proud. I almost drowned that day (see # 3 above). I guess I'd rather die than be a pussy. Head stone material? Maybe. I was at the tail end of my college career when I jumped. I sunk like a rock. Luckily, I was saved by someone named the Gooch. He was in my fraternity and jumped in to help. Thank goodness because I would've missed out on the poker boom . . . . and all those bad beats.

5. I hate chain mail. Especially when they have some requirement tacked on saying you must forward it to others or bad luck with be brought forth and reaped upon you. Pffft I say. Though, that might explain why I'm not a billionaire yet. No tags.


6. When I was a pledge in college, I participated in a "hazing" event that I actually thought was hilarious. The upper classmen took about 30 of us and made us put on Depends diapers. They wanted to have a contest and see who could go the longest without pissing their diaper. We had to drink a beer every 3 minutes. We had a shitload of kegs and garbage cans lined up in the basement. People were puking along the way. I wasn't one of them for once. I chugged every beer, got back in line and waited out the 3 minutes until I refilled. The best part was that some of my fellow pledges couldn't fit into the diaper. They had to tape two together. I fit into one thankfully . . . . I think. I knew I wasn't going to win the contest but I decided to give it a try. Some people were being babies about it and forced themselves to piss sooner than later. I made it to about 18 beers before I pissed myself. I was quite relieved. The runner up cried when he pissed himself. He wanted to win that bad. His competitive juices flowed. The winner, a future doctor of America, took down the big prize. What was that you say? He got the option of pissing in a toilet instead of his diapers. He chose the diaper like a true warrior.

and finally . . . .


7. I have two testicles and I never bluff . . . . at poker that is. Hear that ladies??

Oh yeah . . . fuck Sheriff Lobo!


Read Full Poker Blog Post

Joe D?

Date: Mon, Apr 30, 2007

As you can see, I've had trouble filling my blog with posts this month. It's mostly me being lazy. I even tried hiring writers and outsourcing the job but that didn't work out.

Mustafa got busted a few times. He might be doing some hard time . . . so I had to let him go. His incident last week with Don Imus didn't help either. Charges were pressed.

Mustafa's wearing a jump suit right now. He's not too happy with that cracker named Imus.

Prison posts?

My Indian friend Ashvin had to go too. He was working too many jobs at once and wasn't cutting it for me. He only sent me one post.

All he wanted to do was re-type my own posts for me . . . for a fee. Huh? Still haven't figured out if he wanted the content sent to him via email or a handwritten message dropped in the mail.

I couldn't take his accent either.

He was also responsible for Sanjaya Malakar's run on American Idol. He had all of India voting for the kid. Oh . . . and there was a website.

Probably a poker blog too.

Rumors of sweatshops? Country wide I hear.

Who is this kid anyway?

People were speed dialing and text messaging their votes nonstop for him. Carpal tunnel issues for sure. I hear it reduced the countrywide masturbation tendancies for a few months too.

They still play online poker though.

Me too. Full Tilt Poker that is.

Is online poker and American Idol rigged?

How can I sleep at night?

I never did.


* * * * *

WPBT - June 2007

Unfortunately, I won't be going to the June blogger event in Las Vegas. The streak is over.

I made it to every event . . . until now.

Have fun peeps!

I should've played those damn pocket 5's.



Until next time . . .


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Las Vegas Recap - Red Rock Casino

Date: Mon, Mar 26, 2007

March 2007

You don't have a website or something like that do you?


No, why?

I don't want to go on the Internet and find out that you've been talking shit about some Mexican smoking all your cigarettes during the Gators game.

Huh? That's not going to happen bro. No worries.

Cool. Thanks for the smokes . . . . I guess we can die together then.

Soon after that conversation, my sportsbook profits went out the window. After cashing out two HUGE winning tickets on Saturday thanks to UCLA, I just couldn't quit. I had to bet the games on Sunday.

I crave action.

Double shots of Patron too.

I held onto my UCLA winnings for about 15 hours. Then I pissed it away on UNC. The money must have been burning a hole in my pocket.

FUCK the GEORGETOWN HOYAS!

Oh yeah, FUCK Tajuan Porter and the Oregon Ducks. Twice.

FUCK stupid fouls with less than a second left.

I care about the spread damnit!

Thank goodness for the UCLA Bruins . . . . and betting the under.

Roller Coaster ride indeed.

I had a huge swing on Sunday.

As Miami Don said, nothing gets the juices flowing like betting on a basketball game. It's for action junkies.

Especially March Madness.

Throw in Pauly's buddy Senor and things get crazy.

UCLA bailed me out on a day when I went 3-7 picking games. I put my biggest bets down on them the two days they played . . . and won. Betting the spread and taking the under on UCLA was gold for me. My 3-7 record on Saturday felt more like 10-0. Those UCLA bets turned a losing day into my biggest winning day of the trip.

I love gambling.

Won a lot of money on Vanderbilt and Butler too.

Let it ride?

It was UNC that killed me. I put a big bet on them Sunday and lost. Big. I couldn't even watch the last 2 minutes in the trenches with Pauly, Change100, and Miami Don. The huge lead by UNC slowly disappeared. I had to leave. And fast.

I couldn't listen to the Georgetown fans cheering anymore. The hootin' and hollerin' sucks when you're on the short end of it. I had to get a good distance away . . . well, it was no more than 25 feet away . . . I was by the poker room and still had to see the loss to believe it.

Terror turned into a sick feeling.

UNC lost in OT. Ugly.

Money down the drain . . . and also down the toilet. Isn't gambling fun?

I really love March Madness.

I had a great time even though my nuts got kicked in pretty hard. I got to spend some quality time hanging out with my brother, Senor, Change100, Miami Don and JW.

The money truck turned into an empty dump truck within minutes but I'd still do it all over again. Well, maybe I'd change one thing . . . I'd bet on Georgetown instead.

Thank goodness I didn't move all-in on that UNC game.

Crooked Ted?

Think big, win big.

Next time.

* * * * *

Betting stats:

13-15 overall. Mostly NCAA games. Some NBA and NHL.

It sounds ugly but I was up big at 13-14. It's always that last one that gets you.

At least I hit 3 different parlays during the trip. Truly sick.

You always gotta have a little action money out there . . . just to keep things interesting.

Always.

I wagered around $8,000 in bets and walked away down. I should've spent my money more wisely . . . like getting some of the Red Rock sportsbook cocktail waitresses to blow me.

Bet on the Tar Heels or pay for a hummer? I think I blew it.

It is Las Vegas, right?

I chose the wrong rim job.


* * * * *

Sheer randomness:

I stepped into the Red Rock Casino elevator with two surfer dudes and a girl on Saturday. They were coming from the pool. We were going to different floors. One of the surfer guys asks his buddy why the elevator was going to the 8th floor.

"Our room is not on that floor," said surfer dude # 1.

Surfer dude # 2 goes, "Duh, that's the other dudes floor. He pushed the button, not me. Look at the other button that's lit up."

Crispy indeed.

As I got off, the girl says to me . . . . "Your shirt. What does daddy like? He likes slots? He likes em slutty?"

I turned around and told her that Daddy likes them stout!

And slutty.

She laughed and the door closed.

I think I need new clothes.


* * * * *

Say what?

This Mexican guy sitting next to me in the sportsbook kept making me laugh. He was a local. He told me that it was a good thing he wasn't at the club the night of the Pacman Jones fiasco. Pacman was involved in that shooting incident during NBA All Star weekend.

So this guy tells me that he's always strapped (with his 9mm). If he was at the club that same night, he would've fired a few shots himself just for the fuck of it.

Always strapped? Fire a few shots? Huh?

How about another cigarette bro?

He also told me his lawyer was sitting a few rows over betting on the ponies. Him and his friends kept ordering "wet pussies." One of the cocktail waitresses was trying to shake them down for bigger tips.

Gotta love them angleshooters.

I found out later that this guy used to sell drugs at the Redneck Riviera. Nuff said.


* * * * *


Poker anyone?

The first two hands of poker that I played after the UNC testicle kicking were pretty rough. I had my KK cracked by Dr. P. Then I flopped a full house versus flopped quads (I had 7-7 on a board of 6-6-7). Ouch.

Sunday just wasn't my day.

I love gambling.

Red Rock Casino was a great place to gamble, stay and eat. And lose money. I had 3 great dinners at the casino including a BBQ dinner . . . Amy Calistri made the dinner selection for me . . . all you can eat ribs, brisket and sausages baby!

Red Rock also has a sweet sportsbook. I love the cocktail waitresses too. Even the mush . . . she was so damn hot.

Good times.

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We got it. You need it. It's just like . . .

Date: Tue, Mar 20, 2007

Whether I'm on tilt or just feeling the blues, there's always one thing that cheers me up.

I just fire up this video and everything seems to be better**.

It's rather hypnotic and immediately reboots your hardware. TILT factor eliminated.

I'm heading to Las Vegas Wednesday for some March Madness madness. I expect truckloads of money coming my way after a few days in the sportbook. Seriously.

It's true.

We got it. You need it. You'll find it.


**Results magnify when medicinal marijuana is applied to the equation.

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Atlantic City

Date: Sun, Mar 11, 2007

Strange days.

I just spent a couple of days in AC and I did not gamble. Huh?

I decided to take the Greyhound bus out to AC on Friday night. I was looking to hang out with a bunch of fellow degenerates.

On the subway ride to the Port Authority bus station, I saw these two girls looking over at me.

I noticed them as soon as they stepped onto the subway. It was one of the stops in Harlem. They were wearing name tags which was weird.

One of them walked over and sat down in between me and some guy. She kept looking over at the both of us like she wanted to say something.

She finally leaned over and said something.

It was to the other guy though. Normally I would kick myself for not saying something first. Her friend was hotter so I wasn't too bummed out. The friend was sitting across from us. I thought about moving over there to sit next to her instead. That's when I heard the girl sitting next to me say the magic words.

Those magic words were "Jesus Christ."

My interest . . . as well as my boner . . . went away fast. I finally got a good glimpse of the tag that both girls were wearing. It said The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She proceeded to grill this poor guy and tell him about her love for Jesus.

Boy did I dodged the bullet on that one. I felt so damn lucky at that moment. She picked the right guy to go after because he fell for her religious pitch hook, line and sinker.

ABC.

Sister Teresa knew how to close.

I felt like I was part of a prop bet between the two Mormon girls. I came out the winner on this bet though.

Sorry J.C.

That was all the gambling I would need and I hadn't even made it out of NYC.


* * * * *

I met up with F Train, Karol, Dawn, Mary, Soxlover, Jordan and some of the Crackhouse peeps.

We witnessed a cat fight at the Borgata B Bar. Unfortunately, not a single nipple made an appearance.

Some girl spilled a drink on another girl. A few glasses broke and after some pushing security swooped in and broke it up. Booooo.

No ACH or Big Mike sightings yet.


* * * * *

I didn't have a room booked for the weekend. Soxlover was nice enough to let me stay in his room at the Borgata on Friday night.

He was staying with a wild man named Kwang (spelling?). He won over $6,000 playing craps and let us both crash in his comped room. He was a pretty funny guy. Him and Soxlover were cracking me up. They kept goofing on each other to no end. Funny ass shit.

Much appreciated guys. Thanks!


* * * * *

On Saturday, Sirs ACH and Big Mike showed up at the Borgata. Maigrey arrived shortly afterwards too. She drank with us for a bit then headed over to the poker room with most of the gang.

I drank all day with ACH and Mike at the B Bar and then later the Gypsy Bar. Al knew the band that was playing in the Gypsy bar. Lots of fun.

I also got a chance to hang out with Hoyazo at the bar. He played in the Caesar's circuit event for most of the day.

After getting wasted all day, I realized I hadn't gambled once. Sick.

Everyone made their way over to the Showboat's House of Blues at 10pm for a happy hour that the I Had Outs girls set up.

After trying to drink with Al and Big Mike drink for drink, I was starting to get a hangover fast and the night was still young.

Drunk mode quickly switched to Drink lots of water mode.

Thankfully, I did not puke.


* * * * *

My excessive water drinking was the key to not puking. So was my dinner.

What did I eat that helped?

Al, Big Mike and myself went to the Borgata's Noodles of the World to chow down. That's where I heard the best two words of the weekend.

Bacon Rolls.

Big Mike ordered that appetizer just as my eyes saw it on the menu.

We each got a plate of them with our meal.

Crispy Bacon, ground shrimp, and water chestnuts fried with wasabi cream sauce on the side.

Truly fantastic.

Thank you Jesus.


* * * * *

My Saturday night ended at the Tropicana. Al, Big Mike and myself went there on a recon mission for a future bachelor party spot. We hung out at the Red Square for bit.

Saturday night at the Trop = lots of drunk hot Jersey girls.

After chilling at the Trop, we decided to head back to the hotel. Al let me crash in his room. He had an extra bed. Thanks Al!

On the way out of the Trop, we hit the restroom near the poker room. I thought I heard a girl in one of the stalls. Maybe I was just really wasted and hearing things.

Not likely.

A blonde girl exits the men's room shortly after me.

Al comes out shortly after her and proclaims that some guy was getting a hummer in one of the bathroom stalls.

Awesome.

We headed back to the hotel and ended the night eating two pizzas.

Good times I say.

Thanks to the Philly crew for everything this weekend. You guys rock!

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Danger Will Robinson?

Date: Thu, Mar 1, 2007

How about I add one more reason why this country is falling apart?

Are you smarter than a 5th grader??

That's not it.

I didn't eat at McDonald's from 1999 to 2004. I was reaching maximum density and had to stop. Thankfully so. That food is horrible. Is it food? Some people eat all their meals there. Purely gross.

I made the mistake of moving next to a 24 hour McDonald's in 2004. I also made the mistake of staying at the Excalibur and the Plaza in Las Vegas. They both have one inside the casino.

The service is equally horrible. Especially in NYC.

They say the future is our youth . . . the children of America.


* * * * *


Who: Me.

What: Food. Very hungry.
When: Tonight.
Where: McDonalds, Somewhere in the Bronx.
Why: No clue. I think there's crack in it now that Trans fat is on the outs.


"Next customer please."

"How you doin'? I want 2 crispy ranch snack wraps and a small order of fries. To go."

"Ok, sir. Now will that be Honey or Ranch?"

"Ranch (with a what the fuck look on my face . . . I'm thinking, whatchutalkinboutwillis?)."

"Crispy or grilled?"

"Crispy (eye brow is now raised . . . I'm thinking, what a dumbass).

"Great."

"Is this multiple choice miss?"




"Huh? Is that it?"

"Yes, just those three items. Thanks."

"Three?"

"Um, yes. THREE."

"What did you order again?"

Simply typical. Gotta love the good old American education system. I smell a G.E.D. After I placed my order once again . . . . but in a much slower manner . . . . I got my food.

"Do you play online poker at all?"

"No, why? I just work here."

"Just curious. Was hoping to get your screen name so I can tag you and sit down."

"Sorry sir. Can't help you."

"I can see that. You know, I got seven words for you miss."

"Huh?"

"Bonus Code IGGY on Party Poker, damnit!"


* * * * *


At least I got a "sir" out of her. As I left McDonald's, I wondered what the future held. That ended quickly when I heard some tubby/overweight/horizontally challenged little kid yelling at the manager. He was demanding that they serve him a Supersized order of french fries.

Luckily for him, they no longer sell that size in most McDonald's across America.




When is Kevin Federline running for President? He just might win.



* * * * *


Welcome back Iggy.

At least we have Guinness and Poker . . . Cheers!

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Quads . . . Ship it!

Date: Sun, Feb 25, 2007

I wish I knew this guy had the hammer.



I would've bet more and took his last $140.




I'll take what I got though!

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HORSE

Date: Sat, Feb 17, 2007

I slayed this HORSE tourney tonight. I was the shortstack when the final table started and somehow found myself as the chipleader when it got down to 3 players. I even dropped the hammer during heads up play. Wish I got a screenshot of that.


Click to enlarge . . . it's a pretty nice score for a $50 MTT.

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Pinched?

Date: Mon, Feb 12, 2007

Uh oh . . . there's rumors going around that Doyle Brunson was arrested late last night/early this morning. For what? No one knows at this moment.

The legend of Doyle Brunson continues . . . .

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No Limit Sickness

Date: Sun, Feb 11, 2007

Check out this screen shot. I was playing $2/4 NL on FTP and busted two players with AA vs. KK and QQ. What a sick hand . . . . I won an $839 pot. I took about $539 from those poor guys.



I've been winning some pretty huge pots at the NL table. Sheer terror in some cases.

A few weeks ago, I won $1,200 in two hands. They happened at the same time which was crazy. I was multi-tabling $2/4 and $1/2 NL tables and was all-in on both. I took down both pots for a nice score. I had the best hand when the money went in each time.

I issued a pretty brutal beat last night though. I cracked AA with JJ. I rivered a Jack for the win and took down a $720 pot. Talk about being lucky.

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