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Thursday, December 01, 2005

Beware the Lemur! 

Lemurs are those evil creatures that I've chosen to call players who knock my down and out. I like it better than the standard 'donkey'. Beware indeed.

There I was, sitting pretty at the Boathouse freeroll Tuesday night. Plenty of booze going around. Very little food to get in the away of the warm fuzzies. I'm facing an 8xBB raise from Royce to my right. EIGHT friggin' times the big blind. I look down and find two kings. Sweet. Of course I announce raise before it pops into my head the actual size of his raise so I've gotta make something happen. A min-raise is a wussy move and more then a quarter of my stack.

I push. He calls. And no, he didn't have AA. Thank god.

He did, however, have AQd and crushed me with an A on the turn. d'oh. But I did get my money in again with the best of it. Whoop dee do. It's a freeroll. And for the record, I went out when my AQ was utterly dominated preflop by KT.

I never really care about getting knocked out of these freerolls. More time to spend sitting at the bar where I'm much closer to the booze and I forget the temptation to actually eat something that will help me deal with the swirls. This week I had another reason to not care.

One of the weird things that happen when you're an admitted booze fiend is that you will occasionally run into someone that knows you, but you don't have the faintest clue who they are. This happened on Tuesday. It started out looking like it could be entertaining. The unknown acquaintance happened to be a relavtively attractive young lady looking to play some poker. Like a good wingman for my friends, I invited her to our table where she would be treated properly (having only ever played once before) and not like a piece of meat.

Turns out this girl is dumb and full of herself. Imagine the demon seed product if Britny Spears mated with Corky.

Not only did the luckbox (hehe, I said box) hit the first three hands, she just wouldn't shutup. Ever. Then starts ragging on me for saying "jesus".

Her - "Don't take the lord's name in vain!"

Me - "Wha? Is it ok if I say fuck?"

Her - "Sure"

Me - "OK, how 'bout c$%^?"

Her - "Sure"

Me - "Great, shutup you fuckin' c$%^!"


Now before the ladies start ripping into me, I didn't really say the last line. But God as my witness I wanted to.

Before I left the table, I laughed with Landow. At least I was going to get a story out of it. Shortly after I took my seat back at the bar, the guys from my table made sure to stop by and "thank" me for bringing her to the table.

Rumor has it, and to be truthful it's more like a certain fact than rumor but I'll protect the guilty, lil' miss claptrap got herself some poker booty in the parking lot at the end of the night.

See the type of people I put up with to get stories for you people!

~

More amazing things that night.

It happened again.

Every Tuesday we get finish playing poker and inevitably start talking about the Vegas trip. And just as inevitable is that we end up signing more people up to come. Two more people are coming, that brings the number of people who will be at in Vegas instead of the Boathouse up to 15 (I'm including Helixx because he's a local and I talked him into Vegas. I think.) I'm still taking applications. Who wants to be part of the AlCantHang Crew Entourage? Does Vegas have enough booze? Will this trip require multiple stretch Excursions?

We'll just have to wait and see.

Here's my list. One week to go.

EvaTheGreat
BigMike
Helixx
Steve
Lewey
Landow
Jenn
JDub
Kenna
Andrea
Stephanie
Janine
Caucci
Royce

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Tuesday, November 29, 2005

While most people who frequent establishments serving alcoholic goodness tend to congregate during the weekend, Sunday to Thursday is when I prefer to lay siege to my liver. It makes things more interesting. Less amateurs and easier access to the bottles. Tuesday's are generally when I sit and ponder what I'm doing to myself. The Monday hangover is a recent memory and tomorrow's doesn't exist yet.

I can justify the Tuesday binge by claiming poker night at the Boathouse. It's not a great excuse but it'll do for now until they stop running them. It's not like I'm there for the world class style poker. It's a freeroll and people play it just like that. I've only had one "Hellmuth" type moment and the target of my wrath already commented here last week. For the record, I apologized.

Since it's free, they don't draw for seats. Take whatever seat you can find. I've stuck to the same table and seat throughout the freerolls for one simple reason. It's close to the rail where I can load up on my shots and smokes. We also used to have a nice mix of solid players and 'tards. We named it the Table o' Death. The idiots rarely lasted very long and whoever moved along once the table was broken up generally had a nice stack of chips.

Royce, regular and hardcore solid player, made a play last week to make a blogger proud. He always has the seat to my right, showing that he has no fear of me whatsoever, and made a play on MikeJ to knock him out. He picked up The Hammer in BB and he knew the rules.

He raised. You do know that there is no limping with the Hammer, right?.

Flop came out with a seven and MikeJ pushed. Every single person at the table knew he was full o' shit. Royce dropped the Hammer and knocked out a player who should've known better.

Cheers for the non-blogger hammer.

Tonight, I once again put myself to the liquid test. I have temporarily deleted Otis from my phone directory to avoid anymore bothersome calls. I owe Iggy and TrumpJosh a dial-a-shot. Anyone who got voicemails from me this weekend, feel free to call back sometime tonight.

~

As always, if you don't see your blog listed on the right, feel free to drop me an email here and I'll make up for it. I know I'm missing most of the OkieVegas cult.

Pauly's friend Jerry stops by here on occasion and we both know it's not for my skill with the written word. Congrats to Jerry and his wife on the birth of their twins. Good luck.

In Jerry's honor, I present to you a seven 'card' straight.

Cheers for now.

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Monday, November 28, 2005

The Weekend 

Generally around 11pm on Sunday night I have these brilliant ideas about Monday's post. The booze is my muse and the thoughts get as cloudy as my brain. I wake up the next morning and that brilliant idea is either gone or makes absolutely no sense. (come on, I once considered writing a post with no punctuation. Not one of my brighter moments).

Last night was no different. After BigMike poured me out of the bar and back to my house, we sat around watching Boondocks and House reruns while chewing on some left over reheated stromboli. But this was different. The idea still seems fine to me.

Maybe I'll post it later.

Before I get rolling, go check out Pauly's Truckin'. Not because I have a story, that crap you can read anytime, but stories from Pauly, JoeSpeaker, HumanHead, Jaxia, and rookie ScubaSteve.

Also, Pauly has reposted his Vegas advice for the coming blogger gathering. Pay heed.

~

I get no pleasure out of mentioning that the Eagles picked up a game on the entire division this weekend.

OK, I lied. I'm laughing on the inside after 3 OT losses by the Cowboys, Giants, and Redskins. Sure we beat the now lowly Packers, barely, but I get to feel good for a week. I knew it was going to be a good day at the bar when one of the locals showed up in Redskins garb telling me "I don't want to hear that damned San Diego Super Chargers song." Oops. Wrong thing to say to a couple of drunks and LT on the loose.

By the time LT was scooting into the endzone we were in full voice and he just dragged his ass out of the bar without a word. Next up was the Eagles game and the Favre swan song. Dial-a-shots began in earnest. Some failed. Some went through. It was great getting to chat with Scott as he was cruising down the highway on his way home. Not a great way to do a dial-a-shot but good none the less. In the old and gold days I'm assuming he'd be able to reach down in a cooler and pull out a Shiner while cruising down the long straight road. Now that's impossible. You're a "bad" person if you do that. We talked about the last blogger gathering and the one coming up, about how cool it's going to be meeting MeanGene in Vegas, and how come Mr.Decker, charter member of the poker bloggers and recently engaged, has yet to make an appearance.

The football games continued.

BigMike and I hurt some Soco, Phil took care of the Jameson's, and JDub was pounding on the Jaeger and JD. We talked football and bands and the next Bash at the Boat. I think everyone is going to really enjoy the ACHE band this year. Especially BadBlood and StB. We sat around and watched Jay Feely yack up all over Seattle. The best TV moment of the football year was jagoff Shockey pointing in the camera assuming Feely was making the field goal.

Hammerhead.

God, I just got a whiff of myself and I smell like the gutters on Bourbon Street after a particularly vile MardiGras. God help my officemates. Ain't it great to be back at work?

Where was I? Oh yeah, the Giants lost, their fans left the bar....

Next thing you know I'm sitting in my living room eating stromboli and Pecan Sandies that my mother-in-law brought home and watching TV. I love it when that happens.

Cheers, have a good day. As a friendly reminder to get those reservations in.....

10 months until Bash at the Boat VII


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