Friday, June 17, 2005

Miscellaneous junk and link dumps 

As always, check out Tao of Poker for live writeups every day during the World Series of Poker, Poker Player Newspaper for the 2005 WSoP results, and LasVegasVegas and FlipChip have the best 2005 WSoP Photo Gallery.

The BoyGenius has two funny posts. One here on his blog and the other here on PokerPlayerNewspaper. Fancy a chat with the Poker God?

Pinky has another writeup from the small gathering in AC during the spring. I forgot how much fun that was and he hasn't even written about the crazy 2/4 game at the Taj.

Just for the record, I wasn't busting on Obie for playing AJ in the tourney. My crappy writing style just made it come out wrong. I was just signing off from the tourney table. Christ, at that point in the tourney with that structure, AJ might as well be rockets. Obie was the second to remind me they were at my table. Travis was also there, eh. Still leaves 5 more that my muddled brain can't come up with. By the way, I'm WAY behind in updating my blogroll.

If you haven't noticed..... The (b)log of Poker is back. Stop by and say hi.

I know that no one really thought I had a chance arm wrestlin' BadBlood. Here's a pic I mysteriously left out. He was just smiling and toying with me. I had to be him to finish it off quickly. I think he had a harder time when he went up against the missus and he looked like he really battled against the anchorman haired G-Rob.

Jason has a fine article up on Poker Player Newspaper titled Five Simple Ways To Combat Tilt Online. Poker Player Newspaper also has features from Pauly, BG, and BadBlood.

It seems people are challenging the true existence of Anna, the College Poker Girl. Shoot, even Oddjack had a crack. Chatting up with the BoyGenius, we came up with this challenge....

"To our new friend "Anna," if that is in fact your real name... If you've paid any attention at all in the poker blogging world in the past week, you've undoubtedly seen that a few of us - myself included - doubt that there does exist an Arizona-based blonde cutie pie who plays poker with her girls and isn't blogging to try to shill me over to SluttyPoker.Com at some point. So "Anna," I issue you this challenge.

I want pictures of you and your girlfriends in action. Not like that, unless you want to, but playing poker.

Live. In your dorm or sorority house or whatever.

In true "Al Can't Hang" style, I want pictures of you and your girls playing poker and holding up signs that say "Hi" to myself and any of the other poker bloggers you've come to read and love.

You do this for me Anna, and I'll put your blog front and center atop my blogroll immediately, and will get your pictures and link out to some of my blogging counterparts. Your hits will go through the roof if you do me this one little favor - if you're really who you say you are."
That should do that trick. I think she's the real deal.

and God bless DanM. Check out what he goes through for his readers. True dedication to his art.

A pic uploaded by LittleWillie. Those were the tiny little shot glasses we were forced to use at LaSalsa. Cheers.

As some have heard, I will not be joining Bobby Bracelet, Derek, and the rest in AC this weekend. I'll be in upstate PA being consiglieri to BigMike. That basically means I'll keep him in the booze required to make it through the weekend without killing some inbred mouth-breather(s).

I'll leave you with a repost of the best damned rap song EVER. Screw you BG, you know I'm right.


Thursday, June 16, 2005

Day 3 Part II 

Before continuing with Day 3, here's something cool.

I ordered two books from blogger extraordinare, Wil Wheaton. One for myself and one for the winner of the WPBT Aladdin Classic (ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bill Rini). When I got my copy, this cool little extra was inside. Wil, rockin' the Hammer.


Day 3 Part II

After the Curious Incident of the Skank, I was afraid if I went back to sleep I might very well miss the start of the Aladdin tourney. I propped myself up on the bed and prepared myself for the tourney by cracking open my old copy of Sun Tzu's Art of War. Little did I know that because of the tournament structure, I would have been better off finding a copy Playing the Lottery for Dummies. (Imagine my surprise when I checked Amazon and there is no such book.)

I also finished up my airplane reading material, 1776 by David McCullough.

The time rolled around to get a movin'. We got ready and checked in on Pauly and Derek. Sound asleep. Or passed out depending on your definition. It's a good thing I stopped the wifey from snapping off a few pics for this here blog.

They eventually made their way to consciousness and we started comparing notes about the hallway ruckus. Until this point, neither of us knew the other was up and watching it all go down.

I threw on my Chelsea jersey, threw down some McD's in the lobby, and grabbed a cab to the Aladdin with the roomies and Drizz. This time my trip down the strip from hotel to casino was much different than December. All hands and heads were kept securely in the vehicle and there was not a peep of classic thrash metal. Plus I was sober. I finished 10th in December with a snoot full o' booze so I was gauranteed to be out quickly due to my soberiety.

You should have seen the look on CJ's face when we all showed up sober AND early. We paid our duckets, got our seat assignments, and went straight for the bar. I was joined by Derek, HumanHead (and the lovely wife), Helixx, Joaquin, and finally JoeSpeaker wearing that god awful Liverpool jersey shirt thing. Eva was off playing Dial-a-Slot Machine with her mother. Friggin' action junkie.

I'd love to tell you about the tourney but I did nothing spectacular. When I took a seat at my table, two players caused a bit of a heart murmur. Otis the Great sitting across from me and FTP Hank was at the other end. Before the first break Joe "I'm on a roll" Speaker took the seat next to Hank. I wish to hell I remembered who else was at the table. If you were there, drop a line in the comments. It seemed like I was only there for a couple of minutes before bailing.

The first out of the tourney was Mr. BadLuck himself for the weekend, PokerNerd. The man gets screwed at the WSoP then has his hammer cracked. That's right! I said he got his hammer cracked.

During the break I got a chance to talk with DanM from Pokerati. I think I've got my invite to a Lodge tourney. Score. Poker + booze + strippers = Al Heaven.

Dealers raced off the chips leaving me with 2 TWO damned chips. Someone pre-flop raised my BigBlind and I pushed. I'm excited when Otis got excited about my suited JackHammer. Sure enough, a Jack and 4 hit the flop and I double up. Woohoo! 4 FOUR damned chips. Not long after that I found QQ, min-raised like a tool looking for someone to push. Someone (and again I have no memory of who it was) pushed with AJ and caught an Ace on the flop. Thank your very much, have a nice day, remember to tip your bartenders and waitresses.

Of course this means more time at the bar. Who cares that it's not even noon yet. We started pounding the shots, beers, huge monster drinks containing apple something or other, and hanging with Scott and his big fatty cigars. PokerGeek and I put a last longer bet on the final table. I took StB because he had Anthrax on the iPod and booze in his bloodstream. Geek of course took Bill Rini. Once StB was knocked out, Geek gave me double or nothing that Bill would win it all. Bill won. I lost $30.

I made the command decision that I wanted to head down to LaSalsa early to make sure everything was setup for the party. And like the Pied Piper, I had a whole bunch of people come along who were looking for some food. Imagine the look on the poor managers face when I show up early with 30 some odd people tagging along.

They were very accommodating and led us back to our area. Here's where it gets a little fuzzy.

The manager initially tells me that they're completely out of southern. Wha! Leave it to me to throw a party where they have no soco. Seeing the panic in my eyes, the manager tells me that he will remedy the situation. Which he did. Quickly.

Almost immediately, Joaquin starts the party of right by singing with the karaoke guy a song taught to him by his grandmother. It set a very nice tone for the party.

Click for larger images.

The Soco arrived and my ability to retain memories went right in the crapper. After a few drinks, even this picture makes sense.

Drinks and soccer and introductions. I met so many people that I feel bad for not having a better recollection. We would occasionally make a run for the bar where I got to show off my skills at getting the fine young ladies on camera (even though I didn't have the camera on me). Some cute young 'overflowing' ladies entered the bar and I had them doing shots with the guys shortly there after.

Now I get a little wacko. I was hanging at the bar with Bobby Bracelet, Joaquin, and JoeSpeaker (anyone else there?) when we asked the lovely barmaid what was in the bottles on the teensy tiny little shelf way above the bar. Turns out that it was the REALLY top shelf tequila. Silly me has to ask how much. $45 (forty five whole american dollars) for one single shot. Now I cannot stand tequila but I can see a little sparkle in Bob's eye.

"Ah, what da fook. Get this guy a shot of the good stuff!" (someone also may have mentioned that she was pouring a shot for a WSoP player. maybe)

I reached into my pocket and the first bill I found was a cool C-Note. Good thing she had already returned the bottle or I might have grabbed another one.

Bob milked and shared that shot for 15 - 20 minutes. Apparently it was some good shit. I wouldn't know good tequila from toilet water.

The gambloors in everyone started to get restless after a couple of hours (I even had to place a bet on the soccer game to keep BG interested) and began rolling out. But I had to do one thing before they left.

I challenged the gunz of BadBlood to an arm wrestling match. BadBlood held his own for awhile, even WITH the cheating. Naturally, I won easily. But to save his pride, we 'staged' this picture so he wouldn't be run out of town when he got home.

The party was dying and I decided to head back to the Plaza. PokerProf and I took a walk down the strip looking for the elusive cab. We eventually found one with a grumpy old local who kept the meter running from the previous ride. Nice.

I walked into the suite to find the Casino 2351 Lounge in full force.

Believe it or not, this was just the beginning of the day. We still had craps and the Plaza mix game until the wee hours of the morning left to go.

More to come from Day3..........

Here are some miscellaneous pics.

Gracie with Heather's tiara.
And you thought you KNEW Felicia was evil. There's proof.
Finally, the completely unauthorized pic of the diminutive blog father.


Wednesday, June 15, 2005


I had a post written continuing the events of Day 3..... then scrapped it because it sucked drunk donkey's ass.

But here are some pics to keep you company from LaSalsa

Joaquin signing a song his grandmother taught him. Great way to start the party.

Princess Gracie in Heather's tiara.

And you THOUGHT Felicia was evil. Here's the proof.

You had to be especially drunk to appreciate this moment.

Me and the bucktoothed Elvis impersonator.

Finally, I challenged BadBlood to an arm wrestling contest. I can't actually remember who won..... but you notice that he had to cheat by holding onto the table.

And on a completely different note, Jessica Simpson as Daisy Duke washing the General Lee in a bikini. Enjoy boys.


Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Day 3 

Some corrections and updates from yesterday's post.

First, it was AuntieMaudie aka. The Poker Pitbull who made the final table of the Plaza tourney on Friday not BG.

Second, apparently I was really out of it Friday. I don't even remember Gracie taking a pic of me and Amy. Check out Gracie's latest post.

Finally, here's the story, straight from Hank himself concerning Evanne and the almost killing of a legend.....

True story. After Evanne and I wandered around the suite briefly, we made our way out, only to find a Full Tilter struggling to place a Full Tilt doormat in front of the entrance. The problem was that the doors were so close to the ground that the mat kept getting jammed under the door. Eva and I each grab a side and move it away from the door, but just then, the legend himself squeezes through the door (caught on the mat). I drop the mat and begin innocently whistling, while Eva makes room for Texas Dolly. Of course, there's a big wrinkle in the mat from the door, which Doyle nearly stumbles over. Eva looks deep into his eyes for some poker wisdom, and Doyle reveals this gem (with a smile of course):

"That's a lawsuit waiting to happen!"
That's my girl!

Speaking of the girlie, god help me but she started her own blog. Here's ya go. Enjoy. I'm sure she won't spend too much time busting my stones and kicking my ass.

In the interest of fair and balance reporting pimping, I present to you Anna of the College Poker Girl Blog.

I'm telling you right now. There is absolutely nothing wrong with an aging, long-haired, crappy poker playing alcoholic who spends more time talking to his bartenders than his parents and wife combined who actively attempts to obtain a stalker who happens to be a 21 year old, shot-doing, poker-playing, college girl. Nothing to see here. Move along.


Day 3


I was enjoying my comfy king sized bed, the world beyond my eye lids did not exist, unfortunately my hearing was working fine.

I woke up to some commotion occurring in the hallway outside our suite. It sounded like someone fell down and there was quite a racket going on. I looked at the clock and it was nearly 5:30 in the A M. The first thought that popped into my head was "Pauly's getting home awfully late. And drunk."

I found out later that Pauly and Derek were already home and they weren't the drunk ones. More noises in the hallway and I decided to take a peek. About our suite... it had two bedrooms on each end and a living room in the middle. Each room had a door with a peephole. When I stood up to look through my peephole, little did I know that Pauly and Derek had taken up position at their respective places and we had ourselves a little drama from three different perspectives.

Apparently some gentlemen (plural) on our floor had invited a female of questionable morals to their room. And then managed to get really cheesed off when someone's wallet went missing. Imagine that.

This started the ruckus which spilled out into the hallway. The Lady of the Night Escort Prostitute Hooker ahh fook it, the scanky, two bit, diseased, crack head, whore starts screaming "It's was da black man who stoled your wallet!" For the record, there was no gentleman of African American descent involved. Just the two puny white boys and their mistress of the night.

It settled down briefly and I thought it was done. Imagine my surprise when I took one more quick peek at the very moment the door directly across the hall flies open and the girl slams head first right into my door.

I didn't even flinch. Must have been all that training watching Jaws 3D and Friday the 13th III..

The two guys followed her out of the stairwell and hotel security was not far behind. I couldn't hear everything going on down the hall but the voices were getting louder. It was capped off when one of the whiners yelled in his high pitched voice....



Tomorrow, the rest of Day 3 with the Aladdin tourney, LaSalsa party, and Otis asking me.... "Where the f#$^ is your wife!"


Monday, June 13, 2005

Day 2 

Day 2

World Series of Poker Event #2 was scheduled to start at noon. My plan had been to get there at the start and not leave my wing men or the other bloggers in the tourney until they were out or wearing a new bracelet.

The foolish plans laid on by a foolish man drinking a foolish drink.

When I finally crashed after Day 1 at 8:30am the day of Event #2, I realized the odds of making the start of the tourney were slim. The best bet was to recover as quickly as possible and make a good showing. Don't ask me what time I woke up. I don't know. I nudged the wife awake and made my way downstairs.

I found the final table of the Plaza nooner tournament going on. Sitting at the table were BadBlood, Mrs. Blood, BG, and Pauly. Not a bad showing for the bloggers, hopefully this was a good sign for the big event. For the record, Pauly was the only one to cash from the final table.

The wife eventually made it down approximately 12 hours later and we grabbed a cab with Hank for the trip to the Rio (maybe a slight exaggeration on the 12 hour part. But not much)

The march from the front door of the Rio to the poker room was my first flashback to the Bahamas/WPT/Otis trip in January. The 6.5 mile walk from the casino to the tournament room has to be the same hike we experienced at the Atlantis. Give or take 6 miles or so. The other similarity was the tournament being held in a monster sized ball room. But that's where the similarities end. In the Bahamas WPT event, the poker tables and spectators were kept completely apart. At the WSoP you can practically walk up to anyone's table and get as close as you wanted. (Except for Phil HellMouth whose security prevented Jason from getting a pic wearing the JOPKE hat). It was easy to tell which tables were sporting the big stars by the size of the gallery.

I was quickly separated from the wifey and Hank and found myself wandering the tables alone. And very hungover.

Rumor has it, and I'll need Hank's independent confirmation, but I'm pretty sure the wifey almost killed or maimed Doyle Brunson in the Full Tilt Poker hospitality suite. Just a rumor.

I can't remember which kind soul took pity on me, but I eventually found my way to Bob's and Otis' tables. Joe and Wes had already been knocked out. Bob was sitting directly across from Carlos Mortenson but never really got involved with him. Otis was the biggest name at his table you could see the fear in the rest of the players eyes. "You're THAT Otis? The PokerStars-WPT-EPT-climb any wall drunk-best player to never win a bracelet Otis? Oh god, I fold. And piss myself. "

Watching 2000+ players and hundreds of spectators was quite a sight. With the camera fully entrenched in my pocket, I didn't even pull it out once. Even while BG, Joe, and myself were sharing a smoke with the adorable Clonie Gowan. No picture. This is where BG made dropped the immortal line to Clonie (and I'm paraphrasing), "You were a basketball player and a beauty queen. I would have expected you to be taller. Not that you're midget-ish or anything."


Still the camera stayed in my pocket.

I met Amy Calistri from PokerPages for the first time. And no picture.

It's official. I suck.

BG, Joe, and I finally decided it was time for some food. Unfortunately we decided on the lunch buffet at Sao Paulo. We may even have skipped it if we didn't see Pauly, Derek, Maude, and Joaquin. We made the dreadful turn right into the buffet area instead of left into the normal restaurant where the missus had her excellent meal earlier. Dull, tasteless, re-heated rubbish.

The just-knocked-out Bobby Bracelet joined us with tales of suckouts and dead monsters. With Otis the only one left in the tourney, I was confident he'd not only make the money, but probably the final table starting the next day. That is how I justified in my own head leaving my wingman alone in his biggest tourney.

The fact was that I was barely able to keep my feet under me and I hadn't had a drink all day. I desperately needed a little quality time with my bed. The wifey showed up at the Plaza later and we made a stunning command decision.

We were going to skip the Storming of the Castle!

Shock and awe. We decided to spend some time together wandering around, staying away from the booze, and crashing early. Saturday was going to be a big, long, booze drenched debacle and I wanted to make sure I was in 100% tip top shape for the day. When I saw the look on Pauly's face Saturday morning I realized I made the right decision.

Day 3 highlights
  • A citizen's arrest
  • WPBT Aladdin Tournament
  • LaSalsa party
  • a single $45 shot of tequila
  • singing Joaquin and Elvis