Friday, August 26, 2005

More Brad-o-ween..... 

Borrowed from Tom Bayes who borrowed it from someone else.....

Artificial Lifelike Construct Assembled for Nocturnal Troubleshooting, Hazardous Assassination and Necessary Gratification


Here's my half assed cruddy attempt to describe Brad-o-ween from my point of view.



So where was I before real life popped up and interrupted the story telling....

We left the Bait Shack after killing their Soco inventory again. We (and not BadBlood) made a decision to skip the girlie joints. I have no doubt the man with the gunz would have had us up to our eyeballs in g-string divas battling each other to lap dance with my princess. It's nothing new.

But it really came down to one simple fact. Friday was the practice, the last warmup. Saturday was the Super Bowl. I needed to be in tip top drinking shape. It's a marathon, not a sprint. The rallying cry of the proper drunk. I wasn't so concerned with the Brad-o-ween poker tournament. I wasn't expected to do well because I'm not really that good and I haven't played much NLHE since January. I had no expectations.

Now drinking, that's a whole different story. I was feeling a bit of pressure. On reputation alone, I needed to set a higher standard than most and swing for the fences. G-Rob had already set himself up nicely as an honorary crew member by helping me drink a large portion of the Bahamas dry of Soco in January. Otis, that poker-writing, shot-drinking, carbomb-chugging, rock-fallingclimbing king of all poker bloggers, is hall of fame worthy. (For the record, no matter what G-Rob contends, not once did I see gravity challenge Otis, let alone win the battle). The rest of the G-Vegas crowd was waiting in the wings.

I could not fail. I had to match reality with the rep.


With that in mind, no boobs. I even passed up on the option of hitting the diner across the street. I relaxed, watched some SportsCenter and crashed at 3am with that warm, comfy feeling in my belly.

Bright and early I'm up and rolling. They wifey is dead to the world next to me but she's got plenty of time. I still had a bit of the fog from the night before which began to clear while I sat on the back deck reading, smoking, and soaking up some of the early morning sun before it turned the world of Greenville into the world's largest damned sauna.

When it was finally time, we gathered the crew and made our way to Brad-o-ween central. We were one of the first there and Otis had the look I've worn before. The "oh-shit-people-are-getting-here-the-party-starts-soon-and-I-have-WAY-too-much-shit-left-to-do-how-the-fuck-is-it-gonna-get-done" look. Not tough to miss.

So I did what I do best. Got the fook out of the way and enjoyed some the of the best BBQ around, north of a camp ground in Texas that is. Then I just sat back and did whatever I could. Need a car moved? I'm your man. BadBlood not there with the table yet? Give me the phone. I was smart enough not to remind Otis that BadBlood was hosting Pauly, Derek, Iggy, and Daddy. There was no way those guys went home and crashed immediately.


Fast forward to the tournament. This will be quick.

Otis went out first. I mention this because I took it as a good sign. I went out first the night before, then Otis wins. Otis goes out first in this tournament, I should win. It's simple.


BadBlood setup a great tournament structure with plenty of room to play and very little pressure from escalating blinds. My only complaint? Did you really have to use the PowderPuff Girl chips? Pink and purple. Really? Thanks for the kick in the color-blind junk.

Again, I really didn't expect to do very much. I built up some chips here and there, stayed around average for the most part. I only remember three hands. Once, after making a mistake counting my chips (damned pink and purples) I thought I was shortstacked and WAY over bet preflop all-in with AK. Pauly called with 88 and I won the race to gather up some chips. Somewhere along the line I knocked out CJ and I came close to knocking out his brother lefty with my only pocket aces against his AK. Even more chips.

Then fold fold fold fold.....

You get the point.

The entire tournament I had the Wolverine sitting to my right. A G-Vegas legend more for his playing abilities than his tender young age. Christ, I was spending quality time at the Empire Rock Club with the likes of Britny Fox when he was born. And now he was showing me how to play. Great guy, great future.

The last hand, we were down to 11 and waiting for one person to drop to make up the final table. I was definitely getting short stacked now. No miscount. I limped with 53c in the SB hoping for a big flop to double up. The flop came out giving me an open ended straight draw and a flush draw. I bet, he came over the top. I had two choices, fold and push with the next good hand in the orbit or push right now. I pushed and he took awhile to call. I wasn't sure whether I wanted a call or not. He ended up calling with a pair of 4's giving me more outs with the over card.

Everyone stands up, CJ the new tourney director tells everyone I have 18 outs twice.



And I'm the TV table bubble, out in 11th.


Congrats to the Dr. Pauly and Wes Nile Virus for finishing 1a and 1b with Dr. Pauly taking the championship.

Time for the drunk olympics.


I should just cut/paste G-Rob and Pauly's commentary on the drunk olympics. I failed in my one solo event. The event which was created in the Bahamas by G-Rob, BG, and myself waiting for the NL table. Tossing a water bottle into a trash can. Cake walk. Although in hindsight, the trashcan was a bit further away in the Bahamas than it was in G-Vegas. That would explain why I skied mine over the top.

That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Battle of the Cheesey Puffs might be the most disgusting event since I watched BigMike battle someone in Cement Mixer shots.

Team Good falls to Team Evil. I don't know why G-Rob picked Team Good, still makes no sense to me. We were jinxed from that moment on.

Let the over-the-top, unabashed drunkenness begin. No more activities planned, just booze.


fade to fuzzy.

What memories remain.....


I missed TeamScottSmith doing his Tarzan impression jumping between trees. I was there as he climbed the thousand foot tree in the back yard. The first time Mrs. Otis came close to losing her cool. The Wolverine (a member of the wonderful Smith clan) asked politely if he could climb the tree. "Hells no" was the quick answer.


Young Otis was about to make his trek from the neighbors house back home. Otis grabs the fold up play pen and comes out the door. I tell him I'll get the front door so he doesn't have to trudge through the party.

To my surprise, there is a young gentleman completely passed out on the front steps. And it wasn't BG.

I picked him up enough for Otis to get by then grabbed Derek. "We can't let Mrs. Otis see this!"

We got the amateur up and moved him around by the tree and down he went again. Mrs. Otis and Master Otis made their way into the house none the wiser.


While moving previous drunk guy, we notice a lump down the hill, in the gutter along the street. Someone confirms, yes, that is another drunk guy and, yes, he's sleeping in the gutter.

All pressure is off.


Dr.Jeff performs undocumented 'surgery' on Red Head Hooter girl after she goes barefoot and steps on a broken shot glass. The operation went smoothly and quickly. It was like removing a splinter. Dr.Jeff was not properly rewarded.

Red Head Hooter girl, not learning her lesson, is later seen walking in the same area once again barefoot. Dr. Jeff swears off the medical sciences and decides to join me on a booze tour of the world.


Rumor gets to me that BadBlood is in a BadWay. I find him chilling in the shadows. Brain and vocal functions seem to be working but motor skills have definitely gone south for the winter.

After passing the test (refusing to drink from the bottle of Soco), we successfully move BadBlood from the grass into his new comfy bed. The front seat of the family truckster.

We've got a piper down!


I was actually able to sit in the grass and have a discussion with Otis and the Wolverine. By then I'm drinking straight from the bottle.


Dude, who was the guy with no hair or eyebrows? Creepy.


I believe 8 is the number of carbombs done at one time. Princess Eva, Queen of the Bar, kept 'em rolling along.


I leave you with the final story.

The AlCantHang Experience table created by Otis was moved from the garage to the driveway. (photo stolen directly from Pauly) What started as a casual fun drinking idea turned into an all-out binge. No more wearing of the wig and glasses. People were just grabbing and dragging me to the table. Pour their shots (I was drinking from a 20oz plastic cup. Shot glasses are evil constraints put on drunkards by the man) and knock 'em back.

wash, rinse, repeat.

Rule #3, written on the table by Otis, was that the ACHE participants were required to do anything BigMike told them to do. This rule didn't really come into affect until the "Hooter's girls" wanted the AlCantHang Experience following the infamous wet t-shirt contest.

They were soaking wet, and started knocking back the soco. I felt it was my obligation to point out rule #3. BigMike had yet to use his powers so graciously granted by Otis.

"Take off your tops!" was the command. BigMike just looked at me. The command came out of my mouth and not his. The girls stared at me like I was the local inbred from up the road that likes to blow shit up.

"Ok, BigMike commands that you flash us!" BigMike didn't look any easier about me usurping his command. Red Head Hooter girl didn't even think twice. Whoosh, shirt goes up, cameras flash, shirt goes down.

Brunette Hooter girl is now looking at Red Head Hooter girl with a stunned look on her face.

"Chop chop, off with the top", I casually mention to Brunette Hooter Girl. I've become very comfortable with my authority.

Red Head Hooter girl is now jabbing Brunette Hooter girl in the ribs, "come on, it's not that bad." said my lovely red-headed convert.

4 shots, 2 girls, 4 boobs.

For the rest of the night, Red Head Hooter girl spent most of the night with her top in the full and upright position.

God Bless G-Vegas and God Bless Otis.


Thursday, August 25, 2005


Blasted work always getting in the way. It's almost made me forget the fun and booze-fueled partying from just a couple of days ago. Almost. They seem to be punishing me for taking a few days off.

Before I even start to think about writing up Saturday, here's some odds and ends.

Hopefully tomorrow. I swear.


Here's the shirt I'm going to make Joaquin wear. Seems fitting. Maybe I'll even pick one up for JoeSpeaker.

Can someone explain to me how ARSEnal, ManYooSA, and Liverpool all get number 1 seeds in the Champion's League and Chelsea get a number 2 seed? All 3 of any readers left who care?


Champion's League Draw:

Real Betis

Excellent. When is a number 2 really a number 1 seed? When Liverpool is in your Group. More opportunties to win free booze from JoeSpeaker.

I can say this because I'm a fat turd..... Shut up fat ass! Man, what a strange twisted world.


Now go read Pauly's writeup of Saturday at Bradoween, complete with a nice drunken picture of myself at the end. Damn, I AM a fat turd.



Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I'm a fat turd! \m/ 

Excellent. It's been awhile since I got my last idiot commentor. Enjoy.

Yeah! I'm a fat turd.

IP address is for anyone interested. But I don't think he'll be back. Cowards generally don't return.


Brad-o-ween Day 1 

For one of the very few times in my blog-life, I'm left speechless. Usually after one these trips I'll have the beginnings of my post in my head while I'm sitting in the terminal waiting for the flight out. In this case, I happened to have a 4 hour delay sitting in the G-Vegas airport. But I've got nothing. So I'm just going to start writing off the top of my head with no thoughts on grammar and spelling. It could be really short or really long.

Let's find out, shall we?

I'm going to plagiarize someone from earlier and say this had more of a family reunion feel then you would expect. Bloggers I had met before but hadn't seen in a couple of months. Meeting others for the first time but read often felt like that cousin you haven't seen since you were both kids. And of course, the G-Vegas crew who I've read about so many times.

It was an absolute blast for the time we got there until we left.

Much thanks to everyone for a great time. Otis and BadBlood for hosting and G-Rob for the extra scenic tour of the area.


I should really start with Thursday night. I told everyone there was zero chance of me drinking Thursday night. I despise puddle jumpers and I've had experiences on them with a hangover. Yeah, that went right out the window as BigMike and I put a dent in the inventory again. Topped off with the oncall pager going off and back to work.

So there was no packing before my head hit the pillow. Up extra early and just started chucking any ol' thing into the bag. 48 hours, how many clothes would I need? At the airport, I was pleasantly surprised to see that puddle jumper was in fact a small regional jet. Piece of cake. I have a natural aversion to any aircraft with a propeller. Eva grabbed me a greasy bagel sandwich and the MP3 ear plugs went in with crunchy metal love to clear my head. By the time we were loaded into seats 1a and 2a, I was ready rock.

What a lovely little airport they have in Greenville and we were greeted with nice southern hospitality. Not SOUTHERN (Comfort) hospitality but we'll get there eventually. We contacted G-Rob and grabbed our rental mini-van to the hotel. The Party Van. We were in the town for 30 minutes before we were whisked off to Chiefs across the street from where we staying. We met up with Otis and Mizzou crew for brews, booze, and some first class smack talking. If you ever get the chance to sit down between Otis and G-Rob, do it. First threat occurred here but was never followed up on. G-Rob never did get that beer poured over his head!

We received word from BadBlood that the Brother's McGrupp had arrived. It was time for some pre-blood tourney poker. Off to casa-Otis. I got my first glimpse of the MASSIVE amounts of liquor already onsite with more to come. 3 half gallons of Southern Comfort plus 4 fifths as back up. Vodkas, tequilas, rums, and a bottle of Everclear which was suspiciously only partly full. Otis and Eva start making up a list what else was needed. The Princess had offered to bartend the affair for Otis. Is it any wonder that Otis has claimed more booze was partaken at this Brad-o-ween than any before?

Dr. Jeff arrived with my 'prescription'. Zantac! For a guy that drinks as much booze as I do, you can't imagine how much that shit helps. Otis also pulled out the surprise of the weekend for me. He was planning on having an AlCantHang Experience table setup where party goers could throw on a funny wig and glasses and knock back Soco with BigMike and myself. He made up the greatest banner ever. He tracked down a pic from the June Vegas trip that I had never seen before. Blew the pic up and made a banner with it and the words, "Experience the AlCantHang Experience". I was humbled.

But enough of this, while Otis and the missus continued their preparations for the party, the rest of us divided up some chips and played a little no-limit hold'em. G-Rob and I also cracked open the lid on a bouncing baby bottle of Soco. I'll let those better at poker writing explain the game. I was up pretty well for a while thanks to fishy G-Rob but it didn't take long for me to lose it right back. The booze was more important.

Dr. Pauly took over my chips and I concentrated on the important things in life. By the time the game broke up, G-Rob and I had worked through the entire fifth of Soco with some help from Pauly and Derek. Not that big of deal. The sun would be going down soon. We weren't that irresponsible. G-Rob for the 5th time stated that he was way too loaded for this early. Considering we still had a poker tournament and Greenville bar tour to make it through.

During a quick stop at G-Rob's, he managed to mangle his foot in the driveway. Real Blood on the way to BadBlood's. How does somebody with that much booze in his system bitch about stubbing his toe. From the sounds of it, you'd think his big toe was dangling by a lone piece of skin. Mrs. Blood fixed him right up by putting a cute PowerPuff girls band-aid on it.

The Bloods were nice enough to open up their home to a bunch of degenerates to play a pre-Bradoween poker tournament. Before the start of the tournament I had a couple of surprises. Iggy and Daddy managed to drag their asses down after a monster binge the night before. We were sure there was no way they'd make it. But they're true professionals in the drinking/poker biz.

Second, April and Heather pulled up in the driveway. April wrote that she had a present for me. A string of Christmas lights made entirely of mini-bottles of Southern Comfort. The coolest present. I wore them around my neck until I realized that I was probably going to lose them or break them. Into the party van they went.

The biggest surprise was when Auntie Maudie came pulling up to the house. That was the best surprise of the trip. It's always great to see one of my favorite people in this silly little group. Later she would show her toughness when BadBlood went old school WWF on her. I could almost here Jim Ross, "Oh no he's not, yes he is, he pulling out the chair!". BadBlood smacked Maudie right on top of the head with a folding chair. Auntie Maudie, the toughest woman in poker, didn't even flinch. Blood on the other hand, looked like he thought he had just knocked out the Queen of England.

Fast forward through the tournament. No sense mentioning that I went out first. Naturally I was betting into the nuts and Daddy smacked me in the nuts. Did I mention that we killed another bottle of Soco at Blood's? Two down.

I met two of my favorites bloggers for the first time. DoubleAs and Gamecock (did anyone card him?) Jokes, I just kid. Great guys.

But now things were about to pick up. The leader of ACHE (I'm just a figurehead), BigMike arrived around the same time as the BoyGenius. The tournament had ended (congrats to Otis) and the rest were heading to downtown (ha) Greenville for bar-time.

A nice little dive bar named the Bait Shack. It was hidden beneath the street with bouncer that made BigMike look like SmallMike. It's the kind of bar where local celebrities can hang out without anyone recognizing them as they drain buckets of beer and write foul lyrics on the wall.

Then we ran them out of Soco. I didn't think that was possible. G-Rob had promised that everything would be cool. He'd make sure the local establishments would have extra on hand. I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to have to drink beer (shudder). Inefficient swill. If I wanted water, I would have ordered it.

But the master of G-Vegas came through again. I noticed Otis at the bar. It didn't look like a heated discussion but whatever he said must have worked. The next time I went to the bar for a round of drinks, lil' miss bartender with the boobs flopping out was holding a new 'case' of Soco mini's. Score.

An hour later. Those bottle were gone!

And they weren't going for any discussion of tracking down more.

'round 'bout this time, I've managed to pick up a southern twang (no pun intended), BadBlood is arm wrestling guys at the table, Bonus Code Iggy has been written all over the walls, BG is drinking beer bucket water, and I've talked BadBlood into taking us on a tour of the local gentleman's clubs.

We thank miss floppy boobs and hit the sidewalk where something amazing happens. We're queuing up to figure out how to get to the strip club when somehow somewhere we become socially responsible. We decide that going to the club is actually a bad idea. I'm stunned. We made a rational decision after 13 hours of binge drinking.

Friday was not the main event. We needed to be right as rain for Brad-o-ween and the tourney.

So we called it a night.

But there's always Saturday......


Nothing happened. You can go now.

Well, here's some of the things that happened -

- Poker tournament. I finished 11th out of 43 tough players.

- Booze. More than once I heard someone say, "who's the girl making drinks. goddamn! I'm gonna be wasted soon."

- The Boy "I WAS NOT PASSED OUT" Genius

- Tree jumping and the Smith Family, god bless 'em all.

- Drunk Olympics. I knew it was the kiss of death when I get drafted by Team Good. Nothing good can come of that.

- The AlCantHang Experience and rule #3, You must do whatever BigMike says. Hello nekkid Hooter's girls.

- "Is that someone sleeping down in the gutter?"

- "You mean other than the guy passed out next to the tree?"

- For the record via Otis, we consumed 4 fifths of Soco and 2 half gallons. Take that AA!

Back tomorrow with Saturday's writeup.