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 . . . .
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!!
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.
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?

and finally . . . .
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?
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.
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.
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!
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.


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!
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.
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 . . . .
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.