Wednesday, November 24, 2004
I'm busted
So there I was on another drunken night, sitting in front of the pc, when I make the mistake of (again) jumping on a NL table.
The Blogfather sits down at the 25NL table I'm on, posts his blind, and hits this hand right off the bat.
BLOGFATHER shows [ Ad, Ac ] four of a kind, aces.
BLOGFATHER wins $32.3 from the main pot with four of a kind, aces.
Fooker. And he made the quads on the flop.
Meanwhile, I busted out my last penny on Party. The well is dry. No more.
Now before everyone gets up in arms, I didn't go broke. Well, not completely. I withdrew everything from the Party account for the Vegas trip and the holidays (tournament at the Turning Stone during Christmas week). I left only enough in my account to play some $10 SnG's between now and then.
But I got drunk and started playing NL.
Poorly.
It's not even worth going into the details about my crappy play. Just suffice it to say the blogfather IM'd me asking what the hell I was doing.
Yeah, it was THAT bad.
So the Iggy hit quad Aces last night, and I get an email from the good doctor this morning with a hand history from his SnG.
DrPaulyMcQuad shows [ Ah, Jh ] four of a kind, aces.
DrPaulyMcQuad wins 1610 chips from the main pot with four of a kind, aces.
Good god damn.
~
Today is the beginning of a long, sober weekend. After the last three days (bartender polling results show that Mike and I drank at least 5 bottles between Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday), I'm ready to dry out.
Tonight is the one night I can absolutely gauran-god damn-tee that I will not be making a bar appearance. This is the worst amateur drinking night of the entire year. Generally even worse than New Year's Eve.
No poker, no booze. What the hell am I going to do with myself?
~
Before leaving for St. Martin, I posted a couple of crazy pictures showing how close the planes are to the water and beach before touching down at the airport. Well, I found someone that posted a video of a landing.
Check out this craziness.
~
Now reading the lastest posting from Flipchipro at LasVegasVegas, I see that Ron Rose will be making an appearance at the Sam's Town tourney.
Here's my strategy for the tourney. Everyone write it down so you don't forget it.
I'm going to walk in, pay my $50, then go wait in the bar for the tourney to finish. I'm going to have a better chance of scoring free drinks from the bartender than I have of making a splash in this tourney.
Maybe I'll just get everyone drunk before the tourney and I'll have a better shot since I'm used to playing that way. That works for everyone except Felicia. I'll have to find a different strategy.
~
I haven't mentioned Chelsea once since the start of the English Premier League. Bad supporter.
Eff Arsenal and Eff ManYoo, Chelsea is clear by 2.
14 EPL matches, 6 goals allowed. Not too shabby.
~
Is anyone missing the NHL? Not me.
~
Finally, from StudioGlyphic...
Well, that's it my friends. Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Time for lotsa turkey and football.
I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving and I'll be back in a couple of days.
|
The Blogfather sits down at the 25NL table I'm on, posts his blind, and hits this hand right off the bat.
BLOGFATHER shows [ Ad, Ac ] four of a kind, aces.
BLOGFATHER wins $32.3 from the main pot with four of a kind, aces.
Fooker. And he made the quads on the flop.
Meanwhile, I busted out my last penny on Party. The well is dry. No more.
Now before everyone gets up in arms, I didn't go broke. Well, not completely. I withdrew everything from the Party account for the Vegas trip and the holidays (tournament at the Turning Stone during Christmas week). I left only enough in my account to play some $10 SnG's between now and then.
But I got drunk and started playing NL.
Poorly.
It's not even worth going into the details about my crappy play. Just suffice it to say the blogfather IM'd me asking what the hell I was doing.
Yeah, it was THAT bad.
So the Iggy hit quad Aces last night, and I get an email from the good doctor this morning with a hand history from his SnG.
DrPaulyMcQuad shows [ Ah, Jh ] four of a kind, aces.
DrPaulyMcQuad wins 1610 chips from the main pot with four of a kind, aces.
Good god damn.
~
Today is the beginning of a long, sober weekend. After the last three days (bartender polling results show that Mike and I drank at least 5 bottles between Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday), I'm ready to dry out.
Tonight is the one night I can absolutely gauran-god damn-tee that I will not be making a bar appearance. This is the worst amateur drinking night of the entire year. Generally even worse than New Year's Eve.
No poker, no booze. What the hell am I going to do with myself?
~
Before leaving for St. Martin, I posted a couple of crazy pictures showing how close the planes are to the water and beach before touching down at the airport. Well, I found someone that posted a video of a landing.
Check out this craziness.
~
Now reading the lastest posting from Flipchipro at LasVegasVegas, I see that Ron Rose will be making an appearance at the Sam's Town tourney.
Here's my strategy for the tourney. Everyone write it down so you don't forget it.
I'm going to walk in, pay my $50, then go wait in the bar for the tourney to finish. I'm going to have a better chance of scoring free drinks from the bartender than I have of making a splash in this tourney.
Maybe I'll just get everyone drunk before the tourney and I'll have a better shot since I'm used to playing that way. That works for everyone except Felicia. I'll have to find a different strategy.
~
I haven't mentioned Chelsea once since the start of the English Premier League. Bad supporter.
Eff Arsenal and Eff ManYoo, Chelsea is clear by 2.
14 EPL matches, 6 goals allowed. Not too shabby.
~
Is anyone missing the NHL? Not me.
~
Finally, from StudioGlyphic...
Dear Friends,~
I never forward mass emails, but this one comes directly from me. It's important. And I need your help. Please send an email to ABC and 20/20 by clicking the link at the bottom and forward this along to anyone who can help.
As most of you know, a few years ago my writing partner, John Wierick, and I wrote the screenplay for the movie "The Matthew Shepard Story". The film documented the life and tragic death of Matthew Shepard, who was tied to a fence and beaten to death in one of the most savage anti-gay hate crimes in recent history. It also told the story of Matthew's parents, Judy and Dennis, and their astounding act of mercy: a decision to put aside their emotions, and convince Prosecutor Cal Rerucha to forego the death penalty for Aaron McKinney, one of the two men responsible for their son's brutal murder.
In exchange, the Shepards were given one small consolation, proposed by the defense attorneys in the case. In exchange for his life, McKinney would agree to a plea bargain similar to that of the other killer, Russell Henderson. The deal would
keep McKinney in jail for the rest of his life, with no possibility of parole or appeal. More importantly, like Henderson had already done, McKinney would agree to a permanent gag order, which would prevent him from talking to the press. For the Shepards, it meant the closest thing to an end to the most horrific event of their lives. They would never have to hear from their son's killers again, or worry about them doing the same thing to someone else.
Unfortunately, recently, McKinney and Henderson have mounted a new effort to overturn the terms of their plea bargains-- terms that were proposed by their own lawyers and accepted by the Shepards at a time when it seemed there was no question that McKinney was heading for a death sentence. And disturbingly, it seems that ABC's 20/20 is planning to help them achieve their goal.
On November 26, the Friday after Thanksgiving, 20/20 will air a segment featuring an interview with Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson-- in direct violation of their agreement with the Shepards and the terms of their plea bargain. For the Shepards, it means Thanksgiving will be spent once again reliving their son's murder. For the killers, it means political capital in their quest to reverse the terms of their plea bargain.
In their interview, McKinney and Henderson attempt to rewrite history. They claim that the murder was not a hate crime but a robbery linked to crystal meth addiction. In doing so, they attempt to recast themselves as victims. Desperate addicts who lost control of a terrible situation. Don't believe it.
Here are the facts. Matthew's murder was a hate crime. In his original defense, McKinney and his lawyers even argued as much, claiming that when he saw Matthew, McKinney experienced a state of "gay panic" during which he could not be held accountable for his actions. Now, suddenly they ask us to believe that homophobia had no role in the murder at all.
As if this weren't enough-- after beating Matthew at least 20 times with a pistol,
shattering his skull in 6 places, and leaving him tied to a fence (where he hung, still alive, for 18 hours in the freezing cold, before he was finally discovered and taken to the hospital where he died)-- the two went on two commit ANOTHER hate crime that same night, in which they beat an Hispanic youth so violently he ended up in the emergency room.
Despite their eagerness to violate a court order to help two convicted murderers rewrite history, 20/20 has shown little interest in the other side of the story. While Aaron McKinney was signing gloating autographs from prison, Judy Shepard was teaching tolerance in schools, fighting for hate crimes legislation in Congress, and talking honestly about her son's life with parents throughout the country. Yet 20/20 did not even interview her for the segment.
Aaron McKinney should be grateful to Judy and Dennis Shepard. Were it not for their compassion he would almost certainly be on death row today. But he and Russell Henderson have shown no more compassion to Judy and Dennis than they showed to their son. McKinney and Henderon's interview is an insult to Judy and Dennis' Shepards' act of mercy, and a dishonor to Matthew's memory. And if they proceed with their plans to air it, 20/20 will be equally culpable.
Fortunately, we can still stop them:
Please join me in sending e-mails to audience relations at ABC at netaudr@abc.com and to the producers of 20/20 at 2020@abc.com urging them not to air the McKinney interview. You can also call ABC at 818-460-7477 to let them know how you feel. You can copy this message into your e-mail if you like:
"I stand with Judy and Dennis Shepard, urging you to recognize the agreement embraced by Aaron McKinney and his lawyers at the time of his sentencing, which, in exchange for prosecutors not seeking the death penalty, prohibited Mr. McKinney from talking to any news media organizations regarding the criminal case against him. Please do not air the McKinney/Henderson segment or any part of it, scheduled for November 26th, 2004. Sincerely, (Your name)."
Please forward this e-mail to as many people as you can. The more pressure brought to bear on this issue, the better.
Thank you,
Jacob Krueger
Writer - "The Matthew Shepard Story"
For more
info about Matthew Shepard click this link:
http://www.matthewshepard.org/
Well, that's it my friends. Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Time for lotsa turkey and football.
I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving and I'll be back in a couple of days.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Drinking and the Benefits of Zero Gravity
I have a special gift for you today, my faithful reader(s). I haven't really written much about the trip to St. Martin and there are a couple of reasons. One being that it wasn't really that exciting. This trip wasn't meant to be the "Party like a rockstar" mind blowing bender. I save those trips for earlier in the year.
Two, I have been in negotiations for permission to tell (mostly second hand) the Running of the Lewey 2.
Three, I really wanted to wait for BigMike to writeup about the second night in the villa. The first two nights of the trip, we did party like rockstars. 4 bottles of Soco in approximately 24 hours. The second night BigMike found his perfect moment of zen.
I present to you the written words of BigMike......
~
Drinking and the Benefits of Zero Gravity
It was All Hallows Eve. Traditionally not a good drinking day for me. Though I pride myself on my ability to pull back from the edge of complete oblivion on most occasions, something about the barrier being weaker between this reality and the afterworld makes me push the barriers a little farther, usually with extreme results.
It was day two in paradise. There we were in the pool again (although it felt like STILL). When Al first mentioned the villa of joy, the selling point for me was the Pool. Most fat mammals are happiest in zero gravity and I am no exception. My declared intention for the trip was to do as little as possible out side of the pool. And even though certain elements who Can't Understand No Talking were planning a week of activities, I was determined to get a decent amount of floating time.
Day one had gone very well. Here was the way events unfolded:
3:30 Arrived at Villa
3:35 Tour of Compound
3:50 Into the Pool
3:50:01 The Girls and Louie are off shopping
3:50:02 Into the Southern
5:00 First Bottle gone and tossed in the pool as a floater
5:00 - 6:00 Floating peacefully in the Pool with Al and the empty Southern bottle. Speech is completely unnecessary. Peace at last.
6:05 Our glasses are empty
6:05:01 Al makes the ultimate sacrifice and gets out of the pool and cracks open bottle number two. (Enthusiastic Cheers)
6:15 The women (and Louie) return with food.
6:15:01 Much needless talking ensues
6:20 We are ordered to go to the airport and pick up the rest of our rag tag crew. Of course we agree.
6:25 Our floating friend is discovered
6:25:01 Certain elements that Can't Understand No Talking indicate that we need to go to the airport because we "wasted time in the pool" while "important shopping was done." We again agree.
6:25:10 We are told that we are too drunk to drive. We respond that we have at least 90 minutes to sober up.
6:26 We are told we are too drunk to drive by Certain elements that Can't Understand No Talking. Mrs. Canthang asks if I am all right to drive. I answer "Is it 8:00?" From experience, she withdraws. We cap the bottle of Southern. (Expressions of Regret)
6:50 We are drying out. The silence is gone. The Southern is gone. I start to tease someone about their prior experience on vacation that involved drunkenness and fractured limbs. My head is beginning to clear. I am tearfully rebuked and told never to mention it again. I agree. I agree that making fun of drunken indiscretions would be wrong. I perform the Sacrament of Penance. I Mea Culpa until my chest hurts and agree that it is very wrong to exploit, tease, embarrass, or mention drunken incidents. I sign a non-aggression pact and cede half of Poland (after bombing the French of course).
8:10 The plane supposedly landed 10 minutes ago. We did not see it. (Yes my friends, we could actually see the planes arriving from the pool in the night sky!) Mrs. Canthang performs a sobriety test. I pass and I drag Mr. Canthang and we head to the airport.
8:30 We arrive at the airport
8:45 No sign of our compatriots
9:00 No sign of our compatriots
10:00 Return to consciousness and drive by the terminal
10:00:01 No sign of our compatriots
10:08 Mr. CantHang and the travel weary companions wave me down
10:28 We arrive at the villa
10:30 Back in the pool and the Southern is open
10:45 Buzz returns
11:05 The game of "Barnacle" is invented (Expression of Regret)
11:30 The second bottle is floating empty (Enthusiastic Cheer)
11:55 The third bottle of Southern is open.
1:00 Bedtime on the compound
Day two began where day one left off. I reflected on the negative moments of the previous day. They all involved the following:
1. Being out of the pool
2. Being sober enough to drive
Fortunately, these small matters could be easily remedied. By 2:00 bottle four was opened. By 3:00 bottle four was gone. Much of it in to me. Drinking in zero gravity masked most of the warning signs. You all know them, say them with me: dizziness, stumbling, slurring words, inability to control limbs, etc. In zero gravity, most of these are happily negated. You have nothing left but the buzz. You can surrender yourself completely to the buzz. I found that if I floated on my back, I could completely lose myself in thought and introspection without the annoyance of reality intruding. I spent most of the time floating on my back, doing flips, and basically wondering why we as a species chose to leave the sea. The dolphins were much smarter. It was obvious. Everything was better in the water. If you floated just right on your back, those who Can't Understand No Talking could not be heard. I tried to maintain that position as much as possible. When my head would accidentally come out of the water, I would hear chattering of concern with my wingman saying "He's fine, let him alone." Good man, Mr. Canthang! Eventually, I passed out. When my face went under the water, I woke up and stood up. HUGE mistake! Drinking in zero gravity cannot be stopped mid bender. Everything started spinning. Bad bad bad. Again, Mr. Canthang, in a demonstration of his drinking mastery, had the only thing I wanted at that moment....a garbage bag. I expelled much of the contents of my stomach, but I refused to exit the pool. Lifting my head to regurgitate the complete lack of food was more than enough for me. Fortunately, the pool was shallow enough to let me beach myself and only have to lift my head out of the water. As soon as the vomiting subsided, I would recede back into the water and float. And as soon as I was weightless again, I felt completely fine. My head would occasionally rise up enough to hear comments such as "Drown" and "Die" and "You have to pull him out of there." Again, Mr. Canthang kept them all at a distance. I finally got to the point where I could assist him in his efforts. Every twenty minutes or so he would say, "How are you doing BigMike?" And I would give him a thumbs up and the masses would give him a moment of peace. Occasionally, there would be the insane suggestion that I MUST leave the pool. I would extend a different finger on these occasions. The fact that I could differentiate between fingers seemed to bring comfort to the crowd.
By this time, six to eight hours had passed. Steaks had been promised. My thoughts were no longer a dreamy stream of consciousness. Lists of things to do started to creep in. Soon passwords and pin numbers reappeared. Visions of my family appeared. Steaks were promised. I lifted my head and it was not so bad. A little shaky but not so bad. Suddenly, I heard my wingman saying he would eat my steak. The time for decisive action had arrived. I turned over and asked for my steak. Of course, I ate it in the pool. By the time I was finished, my head was clear as a bell. I tried floating again and looking at the stars. It was nice and peaceful but not nearly the same. I relented and left the pool.
Few moments in my life have been as blissful as that floating inebriation. I vowed to repeat the experience, hoping not to step over the edge. Sadly, the pin number, passwords, to do lists, and those who Can't Understand No Talking prevented a repeat of the experience. I got close a few times, but I always seemed to have something to do that would stop the process before reaching the desired effect. Unfortunately, I am a creature of habit and I was unable to withdraw completely again from polite society for the rest of the week.
And remember kids, Mr. Canthang and I are professionals. Do not try any of the things you read about here yourselves.
P.S. The picture taken of me floating in the pool was violation of the non-aggression pact but I was unaware of it's existence until I returned. Not that it really bothered me. I consider the picture the best souvenir in years. If Stalin were as laid back as me, we would all be speaking German!
|
Two, I have been in negotiations for permission to tell (mostly second hand) the Running of the Lewey 2.
Three, I really wanted to wait for BigMike to writeup about the second night in the villa. The first two nights of the trip, we did party like rockstars. 4 bottles of Soco in approximately 24 hours. The second night BigMike found his perfect moment of zen.
I present to you the written words of BigMike......
~
Drinking and the Benefits of Zero Gravity
It was All Hallows Eve. Traditionally not a good drinking day for me. Though I pride myself on my ability to pull back from the edge of complete oblivion on most occasions, something about the barrier being weaker between this reality and the afterworld makes me push the barriers a little farther, usually with extreme results.
It was day two in paradise. There we were in the pool again (although it felt like STILL). When Al first mentioned the villa of joy, the selling point for me was the Pool. Most fat mammals are happiest in zero gravity and I am no exception. My declared intention for the trip was to do as little as possible out side of the pool. And even though certain elements who Can't Understand No Talking were planning a week of activities, I was determined to get a decent amount of floating time.
Day one had gone very well. Here was the way events unfolded:
3:30 Arrived at Villa
3:35 Tour of Compound
3:50 Into the Pool
3:50:01 The Girls and Louie are off shopping
3:50:02 Into the Southern
5:00 First Bottle gone and tossed in the pool as a floater
5:00 - 6:00 Floating peacefully in the Pool with Al and the empty Southern bottle. Speech is completely unnecessary. Peace at last.
6:05 Our glasses are empty
6:05:01 Al makes the ultimate sacrifice and gets out of the pool and cracks open bottle number two. (Enthusiastic Cheers)
6:15 The women (and Louie) return with food.
6:15:01 Much needless talking ensues
6:20 We are ordered to go to the airport and pick up the rest of our rag tag crew. Of course we agree.
6:25 Our floating friend is discovered
6:25:01 Certain elements that Can't Understand No Talking indicate that we need to go to the airport because we "wasted time in the pool" while "important shopping was done." We again agree.
6:25:10 We are told that we are too drunk to drive. We respond that we have at least 90 minutes to sober up.
6:26 We are told we are too drunk to drive by Certain elements that Can't Understand No Talking. Mrs. Canthang asks if I am all right to drive. I answer "Is it 8:00?" From experience, she withdraws. We cap the bottle of Southern. (Expressions of Regret)
6:50 We are drying out. The silence is gone. The Southern is gone. I start to tease someone about their prior experience on vacation that involved drunkenness and fractured limbs. My head is beginning to clear. I am tearfully rebuked and told never to mention it again. I agree. I agree that making fun of drunken indiscretions would be wrong. I perform the Sacrament of Penance. I Mea Culpa until my chest hurts and agree that it is very wrong to exploit, tease, embarrass, or mention drunken incidents. I sign a non-aggression pact and cede half of Poland (after bombing the French of course).
8:10 The plane supposedly landed 10 minutes ago. We did not see it. (Yes my friends, we could actually see the planes arriving from the pool in the night sky!) Mrs. Canthang performs a sobriety test. I pass and I drag Mr. Canthang and we head to the airport.
8:30 We arrive at the airport
8:45 No sign of our compatriots
9:00 No sign of our compatriots
10:00 Return to consciousness and drive by the terminal
10:00:01 No sign of our compatriots
10:08 Mr. CantHang and the travel weary companions wave me down
10:28 We arrive at the villa
10:30 Back in the pool and the Southern is open
10:45 Buzz returns
11:05 The game of "Barnacle" is invented (Expression of Regret)
11:30 The second bottle is floating empty (Enthusiastic Cheer)
11:55 The third bottle of Southern is open.
1:00 Bedtime on the compound
Day two began where day one left off. I reflected on the negative moments of the previous day. They all involved the following:
1. Being out of the pool
2. Being sober enough to drive
Fortunately, these small matters could be easily remedied. By 2:00 bottle four was opened. By 3:00 bottle four was gone. Much of it in to me. Drinking in zero gravity masked most of the warning signs. You all know them, say them with me: dizziness, stumbling, slurring words, inability to control limbs, etc. In zero gravity, most of these are happily negated. You have nothing left but the buzz. You can surrender yourself completely to the buzz. I found that if I floated on my back, I could completely lose myself in thought and introspection without the annoyance of reality intruding. I spent most of the time floating on my back, doing flips, and basically wondering why we as a species chose to leave the sea. The dolphins were much smarter. It was obvious. Everything was better in the water. If you floated just right on your back, those who Can't Understand No Talking could not be heard. I tried to maintain that position as much as possible. When my head would accidentally come out of the water, I would hear chattering of concern with my wingman saying "He's fine, let him alone." Good man, Mr. Canthang! Eventually, I passed out. When my face went under the water, I woke up and stood up. HUGE mistake! Drinking in zero gravity cannot be stopped mid bender. Everything started spinning. Bad bad bad. Again, Mr. Canthang, in a demonstration of his drinking mastery, had the only thing I wanted at that moment....a garbage bag. I expelled much of the contents of my stomach, but I refused to exit the pool. Lifting my head to regurgitate the complete lack of food was more than enough for me. Fortunately, the pool was shallow enough to let me beach myself and only have to lift my head out of the water. As soon as the vomiting subsided, I would recede back into the water and float. And as soon as I was weightless again, I felt completely fine. My head would occasionally rise up enough to hear comments such as "Drown" and "Die" and "You have to pull him out of there." Again, Mr. Canthang kept them all at a distance. I finally got to the point where I could assist him in his efforts. Every twenty minutes or so he would say, "How are you doing BigMike?" And I would give him a thumbs up and the masses would give him a moment of peace. Occasionally, there would be the insane suggestion that I MUST leave the pool. I would extend a different finger on these occasions. The fact that I could differentiate between fingers seemed to bring comfort to the crowd.
By this time, six to eight hours had passed. Steaks had been promised. My thoughts were no longer a dreamy stream of consciousness. Lists of things to do started to creep in. Soon passwords and pin numbers reappeared. Visions of my family appeared. Steaks were promised. I lifted my head and it was not so bad. A little shaky but not so bad. Suddenly, I heard my wingman saying he would eat my steak. The time for decisive action had arrived. I turned over and asked for my steak. Of course, I ate it in the pool. By the time I was finished, my head was clear as a bell. I tried floating again and looking at the stars. It was nice and peaceful but not nearly the same. I relented and left the pool.
Few moments in my life have been as blissful as that floating inebriation. I vowed to repeat the experience, hoping not to step over the edge. Sadly, the pin number, passwords, to do lists, and those who Can't Understand No Talking prevented a repeat of the experience. I got close a few times, but I always seemed to have something to do that would stop the process before reaching the desired effect. Unfortunately, I am a creature of habit and I was unable to withdraw completely again from polite society for the rest of the week.
And remember kids, Mr. Canthang and I are professionals. Do not try any of the things you read about here yourselves.
P.S. The picture taken of me floating in the pool was violation of the non-aggression pact but I was unaware of it's existence until I returned. Not that it really bothered me. I consider the picture the best souvenir in years. If Stalin were as laid back as me, we would all be speaking German!
Monday, November 22, 2004
A little place called Bubba's (aka Hell)
Friday night, the wifey and I decided to head to the lovely state of Delaware to catch our friends band. As I mentioned earlier, I wasn't terribly excited to be back in the "First State" but it had to be done. I should have stuck with my instincts.
Our first problem? Outside the city of Wilmington, I'm pretty sure Delaware doesn't have a building over 10 stories. Yet they managed to find a way to gridlock the entire state. It took us an hour to go 2 miles. Ridiculous. If I lived there, I would have to scare up a pistol and chew on the business end.
Once we got through the great metropolitan area that is Wilmington (don't blink) we made our way down to the capital of Delaware where I believe the tallest building is Dover Downs raceway where dem der Nascars make all dem left turns. We're looking for a place called Bubba's. It can only get better, right?
Two big upsides when we finally hit the bar. Another photo for the bartender hall of fame (here with Phil after we were loaded) and huge shots. That's just about it.
The crowd was just about what I expected. I good mix of Deliverance extras, hillbilly hip hoppers, and the occasional person who wasn't a stereotype. Very few 'normal' people.
I can sum it up in one sentence.
Between sets, they were line dancing to hip hop.
Oh the humanity.
I honestly looked for anyone worthy to grab pictures of, but nothing was worth it. Except maybe the girl who looked to be six months pregnant, wearing a belly shirt, drinking and smoking like a fiend. And you wonder why I call it Slower Delaware.
Here's some pics if you care.
The best part of the trip? On the way home after a long night of drinking, we happened to pass a 24hour Krispy Kreme store. Saturday morning was wonderful.
~
I'd like to thank the Indiana Pacers and the fans in Detroit for changing the subject from the silly Monday Night football scandal and giving us something really juicy to read about.
I think MeanGene had the best comments so far.
Check them out.
~
Thanks to everyone for their comments in my previous post. I'm going to gather up all the songs in one list. There weren't really that many songs mentioned more than once. I was really hoping to see Scott's list. There are alot of great songs listed in the comments. If you have anything to add, feel free.
That just shows the complete stupidity of these kinds of lists. Of course, maybe Rolling Stone is getting what they wanted. A crappy list that everyone would talk about and they get the publicity.
For the record, my 5 favorite rock songs
1. Beatles - Helter Skelter
2. Led Zeppelin - Bring It On Home
3. Queen - Fat Bottom Girl (always cracks me up)
4. The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
5. Pantera - Walk (had to throw that in there for BadBlood)
~
Just to continue the charade that this is something close to a poker blog.....
5 SnG's on Saturday. 3 in the money with 2 first place finishes.
Aggression!!!! God these tables are just a squishy as ever. Here's me tip o' the day. Saturday afternoons find out when Bravo or the Travel Channel are showing a tourney. The fishies are schooling hardcore at that time.
|
Our first problem? Outside the city of Wilmington, I'm pretty sure Delaware doesn't have a building over 10 stories. Yet they managed to find a way to gridlock the entire state. It took us an hour to go 2 miles. Ridiculous. If I lived there, I would have to scare up a pistol and chew on the business end.
Once we got through the great metropolitan area that is Wilmington (don't blink) we made our way down to the capital of Delaware where I believe the tallest building is Dover Downs raceway where dem der Nascars make all dem left turns. We're looking for a place called Bubba's. It can only get better, right?
Two big upsides when we finally hit the bar. Another photo for the bartender hall of fame (here with Phil after we were loaded) and huge shots. That's just about it.
The crowd was just about what I expected. I good mix of Deliverance extras, hillbilly hip hoppers, and the occasional person who wasn't a stereotype. Very few 'normal' people.
I can sum it up in one sentence.
Between sets, they were line dancing to hip hop.
Oh the humanity.
I honestly looked for anyone worthy to grab pictures of, but nothing was worth it. Except maybe the girl who looked to be six months pregnant, wearing a belly shirt, drinking and smoking like a fiend. And you wonder why I call it Slower Delaware.
Here's some pics if you care.
The best part of the trip? On the way home after a long night of drinking, we happened to pass a 24hour Krispy Kreme store. Saturday morning was wonderful.
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I'd like to thank the Indiana Pacers and the fans in Detroit for changing the subject from the silly Monday Night football scandal and giving us something really juicy to read about.
I think MeanGene had the best comments so far.
Check them out.
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Thanks to everyone for their comments in my previous post. I'm going to gather up all the songs in one list. There weren't really that many songs mentioned more than once. I was really hoping to see Scott's list. There are alot of great songs listed in the comments. If you have anything to add, feel free.
That just shows the complete stupidity of these kinds of lists. Of course, maybe Rolling Stone is getting what they wanted. A crappy list that everyone would talk about and they get the publicity.
For the record, my 5 favorite rock songs
1. Beatles - Helter Skelter
2. Led Zeppelin - Bring It On Home
3. Queen - Fat Bottom Girl (always cracks me up)
4. The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
5. Pantera - Walk (had to throw that in there for BadBlood)
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Just to continue the charade that this is something close to a poker blog.....
5 SnG's on Saturday. 3 in the money with 2 first place finishes.
Aggression!!!! God these tables are just a squishy as ever. Here's me tip o' the day. Saturday afternoons find out when Bravo or the Travel Channel are showing a tourney. The fishies are schooling hardcore at that time.
