Friday, March 10, 2006

Don't read this, you've been warned... 

It's beautiful here today. I walked out of the garage today, shook my fist at the sky, and let it be known


Well, I didn't literally shake my fist at the sky. That would just help confirm the neighbors suspicions and they already think I'm on the business end of retarded. Or am I supposed to say "special needs"?

And aren't we ALL special needs people? I have a special need for a constant flow of alcohol, nicotine, and 24 straight hours of 'pleasure'. Don't you have a special need?

These are the things that go through my mind when I decide to turn away from reality.

Speaking of reality... Reality TV, the creators, and blind followers are all servants of the devil.

Moving on. I'm feeling really disconnected so I'm going to set back and ramble. Is that cool?


I'll finish up the email from Heafy that I keep promising and never deliver on. This could be really bad by the end. I'll reward you for getting to the end by releasing another song off the Guns N' Roses demo.

Now the email from Heafy that started this whole binge of questions....

Dear Al,

I noticed that recently you took some time out of your busy schedule of investing in Southern Comfort one shot glass at a time to answer some idiotic questions on your blog. Then I thought wait on, I'm idiotic, maybe I can ask some questions. If it means getting the wisdom passed down from one generation to the next then surely the greater good is at stake. So I pose my 3 questions in the following categories - Drinking, Blogging, and Music.

1- Drinking
How did the SoCo love/obsession/lifestyle begin? Where are you drinking origins? Is there a SoCo birth place for the those that can not hang?

2 - Blogging
Lets say, hypothetically, that I was recently playing a game of poker when I had a better hand than my opponent, when all of the sudden the final community card was one of only two cards in the entire deck that would elevate my opponents hand to a higher one than mine - a common occurrence currently reference to as a "bad beat" - how would I tell the world about this via my blogging venture without boring the fuck out of them?

3 - Music
If we traced the lineage of 80's Hair Bands, where would it lead? Who started it all? The first album I ever forked out my own hard earned (i.e. birthday money) cash for was Poison - Open Up And Say Ahh back in 1987 or whenever that was. I still maintain this was exceptional taste for a seven year old, but I feel that I only caught on to the end of the Hair band era, and even then only those that ventured to this hear other side of the globe. Someone like yourself must have far much more knowledge on vital areas of our culture like this.

Thank you in advance, oh wise alcoholic.

I don't know if "wise" and "alcoholic" belong together, but we'll go with it. I definitely know that "wise" and myself are about as far apart as Philly and Australia.


The Drinking question is the easiest and the stories have been told. I struggle often with glamorizing (wha?) that part of my life even though it comes across that way often here. That's alot of what I write because I do spend too much time in bars and that's what I know. And who wants to hear about the other stuff. Like Wednesday night. We spent the night with BigMike eating stromboli's and watching DVR'd episodes of House and Distraction. It was fun but whoop-de-do to the general public.

So you get the "I'm a drunken retard, look what happened to me last night" posts.

To make everything clear, no one should try this at home. BigMike and I have a ridiculous tolerance for booze in general, Soco in the extreme. We have many friends who no longer talk to us because they tried to hang and got hurt in the process. It's not glamorous but it is the truth.

Anyway, how all this craziness started....

I actually started off slow. I am one of the rare birds who never had a sip of booze before the legally recognized age. In my early 20's I had to put up with a lot of ragging about yoohoo's and shirley temples. During this time I was hanging with one of my best friends in the world, Brad, and he was a drinkin' machine. Beer and Jack Daniel's non-stop. Since I didn't have a frame of reference and it didn't look that tough, one night I made the remarkable decision to challenge him.

"I wanna see just how bad you really are, I'm going shot for shot with you tonight."

He just shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the bar. For some odd reason, I decided to go with Southern Comfort against his Jack. Odd choice, but I made the fateful decision that follows me over a decade later.

We were hanging with some friends as they plaacoustic accoustic show. Drinks drinks drinks.

By the end of the first set I was face down in a nasty bathroom stall and Brad had to drag me out to the car. I vaguely remember him throwing me in the front door of my apartment and I woke up on the stairs up to my room. Spectacular beginning to the drinking life, aye?

15 years (mostly drunk), an inability to show weakness to that which hurt mostly stubbornnes), spending time in literally thousands of bar (mostly dive bars), watching hundreds of bands (mostly horrid), a weekend stay in the local hospital (mostly alcohol, very little blood. BAC level of 0.46, ladies and gentlemen), and one silly song later, I'm still drinking Southern Comfort. Somebody get me SoCo on the phone, I think I just came up with their new ad campaign.

Don't be me. That's all I'm saying. Leave it to the professionals.


You know I have to get a chuckle out of someone asking me a blogging question. I'm barely a blogger. Really just a glorified jagoff who'd rather spend 10 minutes banging on the keyboard then doing any actual work.

Speaking of bailing on work, Wil goes all Iggy on us in a" work place productivity killing" way with a 73 friggin minute podcast. Check it out.

Anyway, how to write a bad beat story without boring the ever loving crap out of your readers. I've always taken the stance that if you're going to write a bad beat story, it had better be a story worthy of writing. Put it in context and really tell it. I wrote a monster bad beat about two years ago from a Borgata trip.

Runner runner aces to crush my flopped trip Kings and a $1300 pot going the other way. I wrote more about the experience and the players because they were far more interesting than the mechanics of the hand.

Either way, it's really tough to make a bad beat story read well and you'll usually have a blogger asking for a dollar just to read it.


Did that make any sense? I'm refusing to proofread at this point because my brain is on strike. It might have something to do with Enuff Z'nuff creeping into my playlist. Is it possible that Landow is hacking into my machine and fucking with my files?


I'm really going to have to avoid Question #3 today. I started writing it yesterday and decided it deserved it's own post. Maybe throw another poll in there somewhere.

I hope to provide a comprehensive hair metal list by year throughout the 80's. That's my idea of fun research.

But you are right, buying Open Up and Say Ahhh showed fine hair metal taste for a 7 year old.

I hope I answered your other questions in a somewhat readable fashion.


Some quick pimpin'....

Jordan and TripJax have set up the next Donkey's Always Draw Invitational Tournament...

D.A.D.I. Shorthanded Poker
Monday, March 13th starting at 9pm


Next up, Biggestron was nice enough to get the ball rolling on the WPBT events with the first Player of the Year tourney...

What: Pot-Limit Omaha

Where: PokerStars (Private Tourney 20742121) (password wpbt72)

When: Sunday, March 12th at 9:30 PM EST (that's 6:30 PM PST, according to the supercomputer I use to keep track of time-zone changes).

Cost: $20+2 (couldn't make a $15 tourney and there were slightly more votes for $20 than $10)

Requirements: Be a poker blogger who wants to take part in this year-long experiment. The poker blogging requirements will be light. Even if you post as often as Hdouble, or mention as much poker as AlCantHang, you are good. This rule will be enforced on an honor system. Non-bloggers will not be eligible for the title and the as yet unannounced prize at the end of the year.
Hey now, was that a slam on me? Nah, not really.


Iggy has started this year's round of WPBT-WSoP satellites...

WPBT WSOP Satellite Tournament
March 19th - Sunday
9pm EST
Paradise Poker
$30 NL
password: email Iggy


Ugarte, NYC blogger, comedian, ex-lawyer, and taker of Pauly's bankroll, has a big show coming up this Sunday. If you're in NYC, stop by and support him.


As promised, I'll give you another song off the unreleased Guns N' Roses demo. But before I do, this little gem popped up on Blabbermouth. Apparently Axl Rose lipped off about members of Velvet Revolver...

Responding to Axl's comments, Weiland wrote in an open letter, "Get in the ring. Go to the gym, motherfucker, or if you prefer, get a new wig, motherfucker. I think I'll resist the urge to 'stoop' to your level. Oh shit, here it comes, you fat, botox-faced, wig-wearin' fuck! O.K., I feel better now.

Don’t think for a second we don't know where those words came from. Your unoriginal, uncreative little mind — the same mind that had to rely on its bandmates to write melodies and lyrics. Who's the fraud now, bitch?"
Silly rock stars.

Guns N' Roses - Oh My God


Did any of that post make sense? Didn't think so.

Have a good weekend, I'll start my 80's band research and I still owe an email answer to Meeks.



Thursday, March 09, 2006

Nice phone... 

OK, sometimes life sneaks up and smacks you in the ass and changes your plans. I snuck out of work at 4pm since it's Pete's 29th birthday. I planned to kinda live blog the night and answer the emails at the same time.

Then fate intervened with another one of the moments which you just can't make up.

It was about 15 minutes til the downstairs bar opened at 5 and the bartender let out a yelp of surprise. Turns out one of the her least favorite patrons left his cell phone sitting on the bar. She naturally opened the cell phone to see any info that might help in the returning of said cell phone.

What she saw shocked the entire bar. The wallpaper was astounding. As BigMike says,

"If he's straight it has to be a joke, if he's gay....

it's tragic."

I apologize, straight from the Canon Powershot uploaded at the bar....

Update: at 20:30EST we have the first confirmed person who KNOWS the person on the phone and it definitely gonna cause a work problem. Because I forwared the pic to their email.



Email response part 2.... 

Who the hell schedules a half day meeting with the entire division when I have an email post to write? Bastards.

While I was gone, I asked BigMike to answer Gracie's question.

Dear Al,

Why are ants so strong?

Thanks in advance,


Reverend Sir CantHang,

Your question was an interesting one. "Why are Ants so strong?" My first reaction was to cite the exoskeletal superiority of design. Next, I thought the six legs might have something to do with their strength. Eventually it occurred to me that I really did not know just how strong ants were. I decided to do a field study. I made a few phone calls last night and met with some of my able assistants. We procured an ant farm and the use of a laboratory for an evening. Here are the results of what we found:

1. If you drop a kg weight on the abdomen of a morbidly obese functional alcoholic from .5 meters above, the resulting impact has little effect. If you do the same to an ant, it is crushed.

2. If you drop an ant into 60ml of 100 proof Southern Comfort, it will die. If you drop a morbidly obese functional alcoholic into the same amount (obviously in a larger container), he will actually lick it off of the bathtub and further wrest the bottle from your hand and drink straight from it.

3. When subjected to a "rigorous massage" administered by a licensed healthcare professional, in this case Nurse Candy, the ant was crushed by the impact of Nurse Candy's hands. The morbidly obese man not only survived the massage but achieved what the test subject described as "full release".

This simple battery of tests actually demonstrates that the concept of an Ant being strong is actually a myth. The question should actually be, "Why are morbidly obese men so strong?" Although I have not done that study, simple observation indicates to me that it is probably genetic. They seem superior in every other way as well. That is why they are almost universally hated. Fear and jealousy is an ugly thing.

Is it time for the boathouse yet?



This has been tougher than I expected. I'll answer them in several posts throughout the day. Check back if you wish.

I'll start out easy....

From Feeney in yesterday's comments...

Al - you have to tell me who this Daddy Snailtracks is.

I was sitting here trying to figure out exactly how to explain Daddy to someone who's never read him before. I simultaneously asked a newer blogger and THE poker blogger how to do that. They both had the same reply at the same time.


To get a true taste of Daddy's writings, here are two stories he wrote for Pauly's Truckin' literary e-zine. Purdue was a classic but this is THE Daddy story that will never be forgotten.

He also has the distinction of being the person who calls me for the most dial-a-shots. He's good for at least one or two each weekend. A unique voice in the bland land of snore inducing blogs.

Here is where Daddy will post once everything calms down and he can get back to his ramblings. Hopefully we won't have to wait much longer, but until then, he always has a spot here for guest posts.


Wednesday, March 08, 2006

New Guns N' Roses 

Don't know how long this has been floating around the internet, but reports are it just got leaked. Who knows.

If you want it, download before I get the "cease and desist" letter.

Guns N' Roses - Catcher in the Rye featuring Brian May.

Update: Here's a copy with much better quality.

It looks like the Brian May version just got leaked today.

Anyone interested in the other 9 or 10 songs from the demo? Didn't think so. I'll just keep those to myself.


Poker question and Daddy post... 

There are a lot better poker players out there than myself. Especially at SnG's and MTT's. So I pose a question about my final hand in last night's home tourney.

6 players left in the tourney, top 3 pay out. You are acting as the player to my right, with a decent stack at the time, and you baby raise UTG. I know I know, no one min-raises. Baby jesus starts weeping. I look down at the lovely Hilton Sisters. I'm sitting just over 10 BB's and push. Bad play? Who knows because I would have ended up with my money in the pot anyway because Landow comes over the top with his all-in behind me.

I've shown nothing but tight assed, nearly pussified play at this point. Only once did I gamble and that was with a nekkid King when I was under 5 BB's earlier.

Folds around to you, Mr. UTG-baby-jesus-weeping-min-raiser, and you double check. Yep, you're holding the powerful Jh Th.

Here's my question. Do you call off a third of your stack with JTh? If you lose, you triple someone up and drop from near first in chips to probably 3rd or 4th in chips. If you win, you knock two people out.

The numbers.....

Holdem Hi: 1370754 enumerated boards
cards win %win lose %lose tie %tie EV
Qc Qd 592569 43.23 774739 56.52 3446 0.25 0.433
Ks Ad 505094 36.85 862214 62.90 3446 0.25 0.369
Jh Th 269645 19.67 1097663 80.08 3446 0.25 0.198

UTG ended up calling.

A King of the flop temporarily gave Landow a window until a Queen hit giving me a set. BUT giving JT an open ender. Sure enough, the nine on turn knocks me out in 6th and Landow out in 5th. It's not a play I would have made, but I'm no expert.

I'd be interested in hearing your opinion. Go figure, an actual poker question, who would have thunk it.


Several months ago ushered in a very sad time for the poker blogging community. We lost one of our unique voices.

What the hell am I saying, that's way too serious. Daddy had to shut down his donkey-fucking, bong-hitting, uber-wasted blog due to local issues. It sucked ass and I offered him this space for a guest post any damned time he wanted. Yesterday I got my first email with a guest post.

Here you have it. The return, albeit temporary, of Daddy Snailtrax:

Al asked me awhile back if I’d do him the honor of submitting a guest post. I’m not sure where honor ownership resides here, but that aside, I told him I would consider it. I wasn’t positive of what I would submit to Al’s audience, and I’ve had a bit of a creative block lately (that’s what happens when you keep your muse locked up in the basement), so I decided I’d just share a couple entries from my journal. Please spare me the details about how your life is so much better than mine. I’m happy, and content. Life is good.

Jan 3, 2006 – Today, I finally decide to put my foot down. Our workplace cafeteria has been serving chicken tenders and lasagna on the same day for way too long. It makes no sense at all to have two of your top twenty entrée dishes served on the same day forcing fat hungry people to make a potentially day-altering decision. Why not put the chicken tenders on alternate Mondays with the mostaccioli? What’s so wrong with pairing the lasagna on Payday Fridays with salmon patties? Like my revolutionary forefathers, Ben Franklin, Che Guevara, and Billy Beane, I have decided to take a stand and tell The Man that I’m fed the fuck up.

Jan 4, 2006 – I have assembled what I feel is a very determined team. Jenny from accounting (210 lbs.) is handing out pamphlets and has the front cafeteria door secured. Dan from human resources (280 lbs.) brought both of his brothers and they’re fortifying the south doors of the complex with picket signs. The east door to the café is barricaded with two park benches and two very large men, Andy (310 lbs.) and “Tank” (350 lbs.) from engineering. I’ve constructed a twelve person human shield around the west gate, and we’ve got three technicians in their cars with cell phones on surveillance detail. Our most precious asset is our thirty-eight foot banner draped over the front of the cafeteria that reads, “Split ‘em Up! Say NO to Choice!”

Jan 5, 2006 – Still holding strong at our respective posts. Andy from engineering had a great idea of instituting a “fat” throughout the duration of our stand. It’s actually the exact opposite of fasting where instead of denying oneself nourishment as a sign of protest we eat non-stop. Over the course of the last 24 hours I’ve consumed no less than seven pounds of slab cut bacon and two tubs of butter. My stomach feels like a battlefield, and it’s almost as if someone is holding a lit match to my anus. My resolve is steady though, and we will overcome.

Jan 6, 2006 – We have defeated our enemies. At 0730 this morning Kitchen Manager, Hector Villanueava, conceded to our demands. Today at lunch, alongside sirloin with mushroom sauce, chicken fingers will be served. Some concessions were made, however. Instead of the logical lasagna and salmon patty pairing we had to settle with the alternate Wednesday menu mate of turkey manhattan. It is comforting to know that it pays to be a hard motherfucker and that it actually means something to draw a line in the sand. Damn it feels good to be a gangsta. Life is good.

Feb 6, 2006 – I noticed that the new vending machine lady accidentally placed all of the Hostess Cupcake packages into the vacant Bugles slot (H5). Normally this wouldn’t be a huge deal, but everyone knows that Nacho Cheese Bugles trade for fifty cents on the vending machine market, and cupcakes go for a whopping eighty-five. I bought all of the Hostess Cupcakes (8 total packages). Fifteen minutes before lunchtime I set up a makeshift “goodie” booth in the breakroom. I offered only Hostess Cupcakes, but for a discount price of only seventy-five cents. I sold all but one of the Cupcake packages which I decided to keep for myself along with the $1.75 profit. Life is good.

Feb 18, 2006 – I found a developing boil on the underside of my scrotum this morning. As lunchtime rolled around the pain became so overwhelming that I decided to check on it in the men’s room. I took a thumbtack from my cubicle wall that was holding up this week’s menu just in case I needed to perform some pressure relieving puncture surgery. I’m already looking forwad to chicken tenders this Friday. Both stalls were occupied so I decided to use the limited shelter of the sole urinal. A coworker who had followed me into the restroom curiously asked if I was pissing or jerking off. I told him that I was performing makeshift scrotal surgery, and that he could assist if he’d like. He declined, and I proceeded to penetrate the swollen boil with the thumbtack awakening ounces of excited goo and spraying the urinal with a lasagna colored mess. I bandaged myself up with some toilet paper and parts of an old Field & Stream magazine. I noticed Heather from human resources noticing my newfound bulge. I could get used to this. Life is good.

Feb 27, 2006 – I woke up to my usual morning shower routine, but was unaware that while drying my hair with the bath towel that I had transferred an abnormally large mucous mass (booger) from my nose to my hair. I was running late, and don’t usually pay much attention to my mop anyway, so I didn’t notice it. I presented our pre-quarterly review to my supervisor and two of our sponsors, and then opened up the floor for discussion. During the discussion our main sponsor’s representative, David Jenson, asked if it was a worldwide trend that he hadn’t been privy to, or just a Midwestern fashion statement that people wear large dried-up boogers in their hair. Everyone in the room laughed uncontrollably. I ducked away from underneath the ruckus and made my way to the cafeteria. I settled for the mostaccioli. I’ve been home from work for over an hour, and I’m still afraid to look in the mirror. I haven’t been on a paint thinner buzz in almost a week, so I think I’ll treat myself to a strong one. Life is good.
God Bless Daddy.


Tomorrow I'll be answering emails. A couple weeks ago I got a cool email from Heafy, our poker playing film loving compadre from the Land o' Oz that I'll start off with.

If you have a question for Ask Al, hit me here.

From ScubaSteve, Sesame Street - Bird Flu.



Tuesday, March 07, 2006

\m/ \m/ 

Leave it to Gracie to fill in some link gaps for me.

Check out the rest of the posters here.



No time today. 3 links....

Wow, never saw this coming. Bonds and steroids? pfft.

A classic 90's song from Dream Theater courtesy of ScubaSteve.

Now go away and read this from Pauly.


Monday, March 06, 2006

Nunc est Bibendum 


Now we must drink!

That's the final name/design of the bar. The BigMike "Nunc est Bibendum" Bar Tour of Philly. Leave it to BigMike to throw some Latin in the name just to confuse the savages. The schedule is below. If you're interested, hit me with and email to get on the e-vite. We need to know how many shirts to pre-order.

Bloggers confirmed for the event so far are Gracie and Pablo, Joaquin, F-Train, PokerWolf, and (fingers crossed) The Blonde. Now what about some DC-area bloggers???

The only definite 'no' so far is Maudie which made BigMike very sad.

1 Fado (1500 Locust) 3:00 - 3:55

2 The Good Dog Bar (224 S 15th) 4:00 - 4:40

3 Dirty Franks (347 S 13th) 4:55 - 5:35

4 Tavern on Camac * (243 S Camac) 5:45 - 6:25

5 Irish Pub (1123 Walnut) 6:35 - 7:15

6 12th Air * (254 S 12th) 7:30 - 8:10

7 McGillans (1310 Drury) 8:25 - 9:05

8 Fergies (1214 Sansom) - 9:15 - 9:55

9 Woody's * (202 S 13th) - 10:05 - ?

* Friends of Dorothy Establishment. That's right, be ye prepared for all kinds of craziness that could very well involve some random hot lesbian action and confused straight girls. And those guys know how to pour the heavy drinks. But if you're not comfortable, jump ahead in the schedule.

For the record, PokerWolf came up with the title that Mike and I picked. The AARP Orientation Bar Tour (Alcoholic Association of Retarded People) but it was rejected by those with no sense of humor. Since he won, he'll be making the trip north to join us.

Be there if you can make, it will be unforgettable.


Maybe I'll write about this tomorrow if I have the time, but Saturday we spent in an Irish Pub, drinking car bombs, smoking smokes, and doing dial a shots with out-of-business-Snail-Tracking-bloggers. It ended with a prop bet (Kevin, seven seconds squirting ketchup directly down his gullet), BigMike dancing to "Baby's Got Back" with a girl half his size and weight (she loved every second of it), and an emergency phone call (Mike, you have to come get me! I'm stuck.).

Too much to go into now though.


And this is depressing post to write.

The one and only ScubaSteve will no longer be able to provide my odd link here and there. And for the record, all the best retarded links came straight from Steve.

He is moving on to greener pastures where someone will actually pay him what he deserves. I'm crushed.

For all the links, ScubaSteve's best blogger moment was his impromptu surprise appearance at the Bash last year to DJ a quick blistering set between the bands.

So now I offer up a position at AlCantHang for link dumping. If you want the job, you have huge shoes to fill. Practically impossible. You can't do it.

Send your resume and links to ICanDoStevesJob@yahoo.com.

For now, I leave you with a link found on Wil's site. It's brilliant. Live action Simpson's Intro.