Friday, February 02, 2007
Or in my case, hit the bar and talk up Terri my priestess of booze. It's not easy having a liquid messiah.
BigMike, Landow, and myself rallied at the bar to relax, play some trivia, and watch me overdose on Redbull and nicotine. The trivia was the easy part. It's borderline unfair to the rest of the mouthbreathers when we are there no matter how tough the DJ makes the questions. That's mostly because of Landow and BigMike, I've pissed away enough braincells to be of little use. We watched the Flyers lose. Again.
I also realized that I had been missing the spectacluar mating rituals of the severely retarded. Wonderful to watch in so many scary ways. It's weird getting a little perspective on exactly how bad my booze goggles would get as my night used to move along.
The upside, I don't miss having a bartab equal to the GDP of a small third world country. Terri may miss it, but I seem to be getting along fine with a little extra "Wendy's #7 Biggie Size" money.
While I'm writing about BigMike and Terri, why not go check out their blogs. BigMike has the ultimate blog. More comments than words. There are exactly ZERO words posted and 28 comments.
Anybody who has had a drink with me at the bar or made the trek into town for a Bash at the Boathouse will have met Terri. You've also witnessed Terri getting me completely blotto on a regular basis. The intermediary between me and my beloved amber liquid. Service with a Scowl
This weekend is turning out some nice plans for merry making. Tonight we'll hit up a nice little bar tour for Landow's birthday. The second such gathering for this event. I guess when you turn 21 for the 100th time, you get multiple weekends. The camera is charged and ready to go.
Sunday we'll have a visit from The Boy Genius and WonderDog Frey for the SuperBowl. Wild lemur pokah all afternoon on before the game followed by massive prop betting on the game and adverts. I'm going with under 1:44 for the Billy Joel version of the National Anthem, heads on the coin flip, and under .05 seconds for an announcer to remind us this is the first meeting in the Super Bowl of two African-american head coaches.
That of course means you should go the other way on all these bets. I'm kryptonite to sports bettors.
It's your turn to help us out. I'm taking suggestions this weekend for songs to be added to the AlCantHang / BadBlood Bible of Thrash Vol 2. This time around we're looking for obscure thrash songs or new school thrash songs. We still haven't decided. I'll compile the list, dodge the lawyers, and give you an opportunity to listen to them and vote.
Get with it. Here's BadBlood's first suggestions.
Sanctuary (Battle Angels)
Carcass (Buried Dreams)
Crimson Glory (Masque of the Red Death, Red Sharks)
Death Angel (Kill As One, Mistress of Pain)
Fates Warning (Anarchy Divine)
Forbidden (Step By Step)
Iced Earth (Stand Alone, Burning Times)
Kreator (Some Pain Will Last, Enemy of God, One Evil Comes, A Million Follow)
Meliah Rage (Bates Motel)
Prong (Beg To Differ, Unconditional)
Finally, god bless the bloggers who keep me waste deep in the ridiculously NSFW pictures. This weeks selection is from Shumpy who sends along a fine collection of "poker related" chippy pics. Seriously, when I say not safe for work, trust me. Feel free to visit this weekend when you are in the comfort of your own home. Click the picture to get to the gallery.
Cheers my friends. Stay sane.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
That thin beam I've been walking recently has been threatening to snap and drop me into pure insanity. You can almost hear it stretching if you pay close enough attention. It shouldn't be long before I'm that crazy guy dressed as Jesus walking down the street with my hands thrown into the air.
A fook you to the new blogger, 3 years and nearly 800 posts almost down the drain. Screw you my new management team getting an early jump on my soul last night by making me work. I had nothing else planned like a tournament or two. Bitter > nothing.
The only thing pissing me off today is the donkeys. Thank you guys for keeping the other bloggers pissed off and giving me something interesting to read.
Now go be sane, I'll stay crazy.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
After a year being in the new house, I finally tracked down the compilation CD I put together with BadBlood (and created by ScubaSteve) back in the summer of aught 5. We gave it away for charity donations that summer/fall and raised some good money. The AlCanthang/BadBlood Bible of Thrash Vol. 1. Click here if you're interested in the list of songs on the CD. I think it might be time time to work on Volume 2.
I'm pretty sure I got one out to everyone who wanted one except for Professional Poker Player Chris Halverson and his is going out this weekend. We did put together a fine collection. So now I think I'm going to start working with BB again on Volume 2. Be ready to submit your suggestion in a few days.
After listening to some good senseless music the last couple of days, I needed something hard. Crunchy. Fast. Not a single keyboard to be found in today's collection. I fired up the ripper/downloader/blatant thievery machine yesterday and grabbed some "oldies" from Metal Church, Pantera, Nuclear Assault, some proper old school Anthrax, SOD, and Suicidal Tendencies.
So get your thinking caps on, I'll be asking for suggestion later in the week.
"You can't be king of the world if you're a slave to the grind." - Skid Row
God bless Karol for popping that quote in comments. I knew there was a reason I liked that girl.
Somewhere in that quote is a proper poker post. If I had the writing skills and brain power I could give you a proper 1000 word dissertation comparing the glory-seeking, big-cash-chasing, tournament specialists versus the rock-like, boring-as-sin, cash-game grinders.
You can't be king of the world if you're a slave to the grind.
But this grinder does not possess those writing skills, you'll just have to use your imagination.
Speaking of big tournament payouts, I need to congratulate Snakster of Riverchasers fame. He's a regular at the live Riverchasers games and led the Riverchasers online leader board during the 2006 warmup events.
Last night he won the Full Tilt $25K Guarantee tournament for a cool 5 grand payout. Congrats to snakster for the big win.
Click to enbiggen
That's just about all you get today. It's the last day with my old management and tomorrow brings a new day with interesting challenges. Tonight brings the Mook. Next Wednesday bring the Hammer Tournament.
Allow me to introduce you to Page3 girl Lucy Becker. This is for all my UK friends.
The (mostly) safe for work picture.
The most definitely not safe for work picture.
I rarely follow along when these things get posted, but I wanted to see how I would do at the Bible quiz posted around the intertubes. For anyone who thinks I cheated on this has never been around myself and Mr. Head in Vegas when we start discussing our background and upbringing. I might have done better if I actually put some effort into it. Give it your best shot at beating.
Wow! You are awesome! You are a true Biblical scholar, not just a hearer but a personal reader! The books, the characters, the events, the verses - you know it all! You are fantastic!
Ultimate Bible Quiz
Cheers and we'll see you tonight at the Mook.
Monday, January 29, 2007
I would never emasculate myself enough to download Winger or EnuffZnuff. Not in the mood for local bands Cinderella, Britny Fox, or even Heaven's Edge. I've practically pounded myself in the ear drum with classic ACDC for the last month (thank you very much Mr.FatGuy)
Without fear of repercussion from the Mafiaa, I decided on ripping some Skid Row - Slave to the Grind and Motley Crue - Shout at the Devil for my listening pleasure this fine Monday. On occasion I enjoy the completely thoughtless pounding and shrieking music. Skid Row - Slave to the Grind is one of the few bands/CD's in the era that came out with a harder sophomore recording than the original. The album reminds me of a simpler time when Brad and I could hop in a car and drive a couple hours to Asbury Park to see a band then make it home in time to get up for work without thinking about it. Or when we literally did the "whoever finds the car gets to drive" after a night of drinking and watching bands. Or the moronic time Tony and I thought it was a grand idea to drive down from Hammerjacks in Baltimore to pretty damn near Tennessee at 3am following a full night of drinking.
Every time I get the idea that I'm a moron now, I think back to those days. Stupidity in it's purest most natural form.
I didn't make it in time to play in the first 2007 WPBT event last night but I did silently railbird for awhile. I can't wait to see who won. There was some spectacular lemur-like play that I saw and it makes a blogger proud. The blogger legend continues to grow with each bad beat story. I've been looking around this morning and afternoon but haven't been able to find out what happened at the final table.
I admit to being a bad player, maybe there are some the should join me on that list.
Saturday was another evening spent in the bar. This time in a place that presents itself as an "Irish Pub". A nice little gathering for a couple birthdays including that young pup Landow (who turns 18 today, I believe). When BigMike and I made our appearance, the bar was already packed with various selection of suburbanites full of their alcohol of choice. A decidedly un-Irish band was butchering songs on the other side of the bar with the great unwashed between us.
It's an odd thing being in a bar packed for of drunkards and I'm not one of them. We're a bunch of savages and 'tards. My compadres. We had a chippy who might have forgotten to get completely dressed before coming out to the bar (god bless the person who made it ok for lingerie to be considered proper for public viewing.). There was the 6 foot 6 100pound throwback guy with top hat, Steven Tyler scarf hanging from his pocket, and skeleton gloves on his hands. The roving bands of soccer moms out to piss off their husbands by hitting on everything moving. I saw one girl knock over her drink with her huge set o' cans. That was fun. There was also the painfully white guy riffing along with every hip hop song that the DJ played.
Wait, sorry. That was Landow.
Luckily we made our way out of the bar near the end of the night right as the band prepared to anally rape an ACDC song. That would have been unforgivable.
So Happy Birthday to the mighty Landow. One year older, one year closer to rehab.