Friday, January 20, 2006
"Someone once tried to tell Chuck Norris that roundhouse kicks aren't the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made."
More Chuck Norris Facts
For the record, that's not really the worst mistake anyone has ever made. Try sitting at the bar, chatting online with multitudes of bloggers, drinking your face off, two TWO tabling Razz on FTP, playing live 31 at the bar with the Crew, and more drinking off of the face.
I can't imagine how I didn't lose a crap load of money even playing micro-wussyass-Razz.
But really, how weak is that. Sitting at the bar playing online poker. I've gotta knock that shit off. In my defense, the bar was dead and I needed IM to answer trivia questions from ScubaSteve.
And how have I gone this long without ScubaSteve kicking my ass for taking over the DJ booth week after week? When do I do this? After knocking back a crap load of drinks and thinking I have a friggin' clue.
God damn, I really do suck.
Preparations are complete for the weekend trip to AC. Right up to loading arranging the MP3 players with more hair/metal/thrash/crappy goodness for long hours at the poker table.
Current song playing is Skid Row - Big Guns. I met Sebastian Bach onstage when Metallica was touring for the black album and I was in the snakepit in the center of the stage. Security made him put out the monster joint he was smoking and Kirk Hammett looked like he was going to beat him over the head with his guitar. Did you know there was no moshing allowed in the onstage mosh pit? That was the beginning of the end for me with Metallica. Lars Ulrich is a festering axe wound.
I got to chat a little bit with Pauly after he settled in at the Borgata. They set him up with a sweet room (but no sweet suite) and he should have a good two weeks. I wished him the best. Hopefully he'll find some time to sneak away so I can wish him well with some boozy goodness.
Next song is Kix - Blow My Fuse. I saw them several times down at Hammerjacks in Baltimore. By far the best rock club when it decided it wanted to be a rock club. Kix, Jackyl, Ace Frehley and the Comets (SHUTUP), Mr.Big (really, SHUTUP. Have you ever seen Billy Sheehan on bass? Crush.), Soul Asylum, Lemonheads, and the GooGoo Dolls. I saw a girl get knocked out when the drummer from Heaven's Edge chucked a drum stick into the crowd just as the lights went down. Lights came back up and she was on the ground. And I got a drum stick outta the deal.
BrothaCaucc and I actually preferred and enjoyed the Tuesday college night where girls in wife beaters were bobbing for beers in a large trashcan full of ice cold water.
I know I linked this song awhile ago, but I think it's worth revisiting. From the metal stud himself, BadBlood, I present Metal Shop - Big Boobs. Classic. It brings a tear to my eyes everytime I hear it.
How the hell did Nelson get thrown into the MP3 mix! Goddamned Landow loaded my player. Nice joke.
We've moved onto Tesla - Lil Suzie. Brad and I saw them at the Spectrum in Philly years ago. I'm fairly certain the lead singer was polluted. Newly found respect.
The worst practical that was ever played on me was by a bartender before Brad and I headed to see AC/DC. I think it was AC/DC but the band doesn't matter. The bartender, our regular and good friend, decided to replace my water with straight vodka. A full pint glass. We did a shot and I chased with a bit of water. I thought the shot tasted funny so I chugged the entire glass.
An entire pint of vodka in a chug. The bartender just about shit himself trying to stop me but it didn't work.
The vodka really kicked in about the time we were walking into the arena and I spent the entire show passed out in the nose bleed section.
Random fact that no one cares about. The last four digits of the hotel phone number this weekend are 7272.
That's gotta be a good sign, right?
I rarely go back and read my archives, but I knew I wrote something which explains how I'm feeling at the moment.
So you really want the AlCantHang Experience? Here's what your last 12 hours would look like.
You make your way home in the wee early hours but instead of going straight to bed for the few hours left before that filthy stinking alarm goes of, you hop online and drunk chat with various and sundry members of the blogging community. You don't notice until 5 minutes at it that you've been typing with your fingers on the entirely wrong keys but that's ok because the gobbly words that came out where exactly how they sounded in your head. You manage to do one smart thing. The first smart thing for the evening. You DO NOT log into PokerStars and start playing. You instead beg off and find the bed for your 4 hours of drunken sleep even though you're certain that the drunken retard Al will still be sitting on your shoulder when you wake up.
Sometime during the night, the cat shits in your mouth. At least it tastes that way.
The alarm goes off, you drag your still drunk ass into the shower, zone through everything (but still manage to make sure you cleaned in all the right places), crawl back in bed to wait for the wife to get done. An hour later, which seemed more the 5.2 seconds, she's done and you're off to the hell known as work.
You throw a greasy egg and bacon sandwich down your throat on top of a glazed donut the company is giving for free because who am I to turn down a free donut. It's one of the few concessions left after this German Panzer division rolled over our company 6 odd years ago. The horror begins when you sneeze, thanks to your natural alergic reaction to any kind of work. Your lowered ability to control motor functions also causes you to fart.
I don't know if you've ever done that before, sneeze along with an explosive expulsion of methane, but it feels like you've blown out your O-ring or it just fell out all together. (Eva swears an older member of her family actually had their asshole fall out. Completely unconfirmed but great Easter dinner conversation). You take a quick trip to the shitter just to make sure everything's where it should be. Naturally every stall is full including the 'capper stall which you're pretty sure is reserved strictly for your use. The three occupants are doing their best rendition of the three tenors using various foul smelling sounds. The gentleman in the middle is working on the new world record for curtesy flushes. No matter. That 'hot-poker-up-the-ass' feeling has faded and you're pretty sure no permanent damage has been done. You make your way back to your desk, finish eating the goddamn worst free donut in the history of German provided free pastries, open up notepad, and write completely unforgettable rubbish like this.
So you really want the AlCantHang Experience?
Have a great weekend. I know I will.
Cheers. One last link from BigMike.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Two big scores by people who write these silly lil' things called poker blogs.
Facty won the 16K Guaranteed Tourney on Full Tilt the other day and Chris Fargis over at 21 Outs Twice scored a huge win at the WSoP Circuit Event in Triple Draw Lowball for a nice win, huge respect, and the ring that goes along with it.
Go say congrats.
"When an episode of Walker Texas Ranger was aired in France, the French surrendered to Chuck Norris just to be on the safe side. "I warned you.
Chuck Norris Facts
Tuesday night was interesting and not the normal kind of interesting you would expect. Sure there was drunken stupidity all around but much more reserved than I would have expected. At least from me.
See, it was like this. I got flagged at the first bar and I don't wanna talk about it. Really.
It was no big deal. We were already done pre-dinner drinks, and well through with the during-dinner drinks, and finishing up post-dinner drinks. There are many other bars in that town so I wasn't worried.
We rolled down a half block to a well run Irish bar full of good beers, nice eye candy, and a back shelf full to the rails with bouncing baby new bottles of Southern.
Then we ran into Ripper.
He hates that damned nickname too.
There's a ex-long hair in Minnesota smiling at the moment.
Brad and I have known Donny for a decade of solid drinking. Back when we were younger and had no problem spending 6 nights a week in different rocks club around the area (Empire Rock Club, The Troc, The Cell Block, Hammerjacks in Baltimore...) we got to know some very talented individuals.
Donny may be one of the most talented and definitely had his head on his shoulders better than most. We met him around the time he was wrapping up playing with Arcade, a band that included Stephen Pearcy of Ratt fame and Fred Coury from Cinderella.
He socked away his hard earned cash and made a great investment that made us very happy. In the lil college town of West Chester he opened a restaurant called the High Street Caffe (if you click on the link he has a song loaded on the webpage from his 'new' band). Cajun/creole food that is amazing. I've had everything from Kobe beef to buffalo to ostrich to alligator made 3 different ways.
His restaurant is also where Eva and I had our first official date and where we had dinner the night I popped the question.
And for some damned reason I haven't been back there in over a year. That will be corrected.
He asked the question of the night when we were leaving at last call.... "Do they still call you Al Can't Hang?" See, over 10 years running with that damned nickname. Long before any of this internet craziness.
Reservations have been completed, now we're just waiting for everyone to join us. The G-Vegas Crew are on their way to Tunica but a nice gathering will be taking place in AC starting this weekend.
Just for kickers I found out that Phil, the saviour of the Blogfather during the 2004 WPBT winter gathering, will be playing with his band Saturday night.
We will going down Friday after work and staying until Sunday. Shoot me an email if you're going to be in town. So far I know that -EV, Helixx, Beck, and the Richmond Rounder will be around. Hopefully I can pull Pauly away from his duties long enough for a itsy bitsy shot of soco. There may even be a Blonde showing.
Raise a prayer to whatever god you serve that our livers will once again survive the onslaught of those wonderful formented beverages.
Crappy ass posts rule the world!
I suck but you guys wanted me to come back.
Leave this sanctuary of putrid rotting rubbish and check out the ton of links on the right.
I dare ya.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
I'm reserving my energy. Tonight is our work groups annual post-holiday, drink-the-bosses-budget-money, oogle-college-girls, eat-like-a-pig gathering in West Chester PA. Just another reminder how ancient I'm getting but I'll make the most of it.
Free booze, how could I not make the most of it.
I'll be back tomorrow
I somehow managed to forget my cell phone this morning, so no dial-a-shots unless you manage to have BigMike's number loaded on your phone.
Hey you. Yeah you over there. Are you going to AC this weekend for the Borgata tourney?
No? That blows, 'cause I'm going.
You know the deal. Drop me a email or ring the phone if you're heading that way this weekend. I'll be sitting in the poker room or camped out in the B-Bar milking free double soco's while slow-rolling quarter video poker.
WPBT HORSE Tournament
January 20th, 22:00 Eastern(?)
And are you signed up for April's HORSE tourney on Full Tilt yet?
Jesus you suck. Sign up now dammit.
What's that you say? The king of all things ORSE hasn't signed up yet either? Screw you.
There is a max of 800 players for this tourney, don't let it slip you by.
No, for the record, am I not smoking, snorking, ingesting anything illicit or illegal.
A quick movie uploaded by ScubaSteve....
A song from me to you....
And some fine golden globes from last nights Golden Globes.
Enjoy and I will catch you tomorrow.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Add on chatting with the bloggers, dial-a-shots with Iggy and Maudie, plus eggs over-easy fried in bacon grease....
That, my friends, is a fine weekend.
Quick thoughts from football....
Steelers cheat. Again.
Ref's sucked big huge honkin' horse nuts this weekend.
Orton is a first ballot hall of famer.
For the IRC prop bet. Bears offense = 282yds Panther penalties = 50 yards.
Vanderjagt better get back on the juice.
Seattle beats Denver in the Super Bowl. What? Stop laughing.
Can I stop reading about the Patriots from Peter King and Bill Simmons now? Thanks.
One quick thought on a difference between American and English football.
An American football player celebrates a score with the fans, allowed and appreciated.
An English (or specifically Chelsea) player celebrates a score with the supporters, immediate ejection from the match.
Go say congrats to the wifey who finished 5th out of 659 in a small buyin MTT last night on FTP. Thanks to Facty, Heather, and Shane for railbirding the final table.
I can't believe I neglected a special thanks from the Vegas trip. I never really wrote that much but I could have at least thanked TrumpJosh.
He drove in from Arizona and almost single-handedly stocked the penthouse with all kinds of boozey goodness which got us through the long hard weekend.
I added a bunch of links this weekend to the blogroll.
Some that should have been there already....
A bunch of new ones that I didn't have....
Adventures in Poker-Jackmama
Can I Rebuy?
And Matt Matros has added a new soccer blog to his site.
Matt Matros Soccer Blog
Some random links.
There's a vampire running for the governor of Minnesota and has his eyes on the White House. I immediately contacted MeanGene to alert him to another potential threat to his election bid. Pick that VP yet? At the bottom of the article they link up the nutcases website.
Westerville Ohio lifts their 131 year ban on alcohol. Not that big of a deal until you see the picture of a guy lifting the first 'legal' alcoholic beverage. He paid $150 to be the first customer to legally have a beer. Budweiser in a plastic cup. Really?
I'm just going to go ahead an apologize for my juvenile sense of humor. The Farting Preacher
Finally, ScubaSteve's song of the day.
Cheers, have a good day.