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Thursday, December 21, 2006

Death, Dutch, and Donkeys 

"You will not get electrocuted if your laptop falls in the bathtub"
Princess Maigrey
Christ, I thought it was bad when I dropped Carmen's camera in a fresh pint of Newcastle. Dropping a laptop in a tub full of water trumps mine.

I checked out from real life yesterday because of my impending death. Not booze related for once and I wasn't moving anywhere with any real purpose other than to answer the door when the pizza guy showed up with enough food to choke a hippo. I spent the day doing nothing including the intertubeswebnet except to check the occasional email. That left me with 5,000 blogger entries to push through my horrible brain this morning so I could avoid doing anything reasonable on my last day of work before the holiday.

Tuesday (boozeday) was spent in the company of friends, musicians, and girls in their mid-20's in various states of drunkeness and dress. The digital camera kept itself firmly entrenched in the laptop bag thanks to my inability to charge the batteries. Chalk that up as another reason why I suck at this blogging stuff. BigMike sat by patiently as I threw myself into the party without abandon and there might have even been some drunken hippy dancing. That part is fuzzy.

This weekend will be a nice reprieve from the hard living liver crushing days. A few days with the CantHang family including the niece and nephew. Most people who know me can tell you how much I love these weekends. I actually take a break from smokin', drinkin', and cussin'. That's a major trifecta in a my screwed up social spectrum. Of course when I'm done, I'd probably fuck a nun just get at a bottle of booze and some nicotine. A man needs his crutches.

Maybe Mr. Craig is right, I just might have a problem.

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Can we let this Brandi-stripper, Captain Tom, Dutch Boyd shit go away? Publicity whores getting what they want. I'll quote John Caldwell's response on his blog.

"We at PokerNews.com won't cover any of this stuff, and I hope the rest of the poker media will follow suit. Part of the reason these folks act out is because they get the coverage. In the old days, stuff like this was handled away from the bright lights, mostly because there were no bright lights. But in the new, hyper-competitive world of the poker media, every flaw comes to light and its often not very pretty.

Let's let these folks work out their stuff on their own, and figure out who they are. Both are still very young, and giving them the spotlight doesn't do Poker or them any good."
And most people know how I feel about that douchebag Dutch Boyd.

I mean absolutely no offense to Falstaff or SoxLover about them sitting with Boyd or hitting the strip club with him. But there is no way I spend any amount of time in the presence of Dutch "Tool" Boyd without out mentioning "PokerSpot" or "crook" or "hey, you're a fucking thief, when are you turning your money over to the PokerSpot players you stole from." He didn't make a 'questionable business decision'. He's a thief. Jagoff. Scumbag. I won't even mention the girlfriend's dead cat.

He can play Badugi but can't pay back his players. He can get booze and lapdances but can't pay back the players. This "man" is pure filth. I'm still waiting to see him turn over his WSoP money to his players.

Dutch Boyd needs to go very very far awPreferablyably Bellevue.

Thus endeth my rant. Did I just give them free publicity? Fuck!

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While writing this shit down, I flipped through my bloglines another time and found this post by Duggle. The picture got an instant reaction. My hands started shaking like I'm Pavlov's fucking dog and I think I could actually hear my liver yelp.

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Cheap bastards rule. I have a Riverchasers cheapy HORSE tourney setup for next Wednesday night. Since I wasn't sure how familiar those guys with this variation, I decided to set up a HORSE freeroll tonight. I threw $50 at it and let it go. 24 hours later and there are 140 people signed up at this point for a piece of change that wouldn't cover one round of drinks on a slow night.

God bless 'em. If you're bored tonight, track me down. I'll be playing around on the Razz tables beforehand and maybe talking DickBro into more HORSE madness.

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Cheers my friends, have a great Christmas weekend. I may post between now and next Tuesday but I wouldn't count on it. Til then, have a great holiday.


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Tuesday, December 19, 2006

This is a warning, NO REAL CONTENT! 

Odds and ends are all I have for you today. Yesterday was no-writing thanks to a half day at work followed by booze and food with the co-workers. I walked out of the lunch with an extra bottle of Limoncello which is chilling nicely in my freezer for the next time BigMike and the BoyGenius show up at the house.

This weekend consisted of equal parts booze, poker, and parties. I hit the Riverchasers Team Head's Up Challenge Saturday afternoon with the Boy Genius where our team promptly got bounced in the first match. BG held his end of the bargain by dispatching his lemur with rock like precision. I had the pleasure of running in the this guy (now THAT's a big fish. 875 lbs of sushi) who thought his bottom pair was good against my TPTK. It certainly turned out to be good once he hit his two outter on the river.

So I spent a little more time with Meryl and Lisa at the bar getting to know them and the booze bottles a bit better. We actually spent more time drinking and eating at the bar then we did play any poker. That to me sounds like the perfect balance.

Several hours, one Atlanta Falcons stinkfest, and one big honkin stromboli later we found ourselves watching the only funny Saturday Night Live show to hit the airwaves in years. I haven't seen the damned show in years and now this clip is floating all over the internet. "Dick in a box" check it out before NBC pulls it off youtube. Justin Timberlake was actually pretty funny during the show after I spent some time ragging on him to the wondering ears of the BG. See the BoyGenius, he's a secret Justin Timberlake - Backstreet Boys 98Degrees 'N Synch fan Don't let all that jazz talk full you, he hearts him so boy bands. One of the downsides of being lazy and not knowing my pop culture, this IM exchange went on between Landow and myself...

alcanthang: what fucking boy band was justin timberlake in?
landow: thats a trick question
landow: cause if I tell you...I'm gay for knowing, but if I don't then I'm just a liar
alcanthang: it's for the blog so that makes it ghey, not gay
landow: 'N Sync
alcanthang: you're gay

At least Landow had the punctuation correct. I know, I double checked.

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Sunday was just football (and more booze, thank you very much Mr. Craig).

I'd like to personally thank Drew Brees for shooting a big fucking hole in my fantasy football team. The rest of the team stunk up the joint but I'm hanging this loss on him. Yeah, he carried me to the playoffs, but just like the Marty-baller he used to be, he couldn't carry me to the big game. Luckily my other fantasy football team has Ladainian Tomlinson who single handedly pushed me into the finals.

That night I heard two of the weirdest lines spoken within minutes of each other while sitting around Phil's (the Blogfather Savior) house watching football.

"He's so politically correct that he's just retarded" - Well thanks for straightening out the definition of 'politically correct'. Brilliant way to stop the conversation.

The second comment was straight from Pauly's world.

"We used to sit around when I was younger watching the Match Game while dropping acid" - Gene Rayburn while tripping must still give her nightmares.

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Was any of this even remotely interesting? Not a damned word methinks because even I fell asleep three times writing and proof reading it, that's how boring it is. Mojo gone.

But wait til tomorrow...

Phil's band is having a Christmas party tonight, anyone in the area is invited. You never know what might happen. Safe for work. NOT safe for work. You're call, drop me an email if you want to show up. I'll have the camera handy.

Until tomorrow, go check out this video I blatanty stole from Shumpy. The Full Metal Jacket Christmas show.




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Finally, from Pauly:

Truckin - December 2006, Vol. 6, Issue 12

1. 12 by Paul McGuire
"Hey, let's go to ten hash bars today." Nicky shrugged her shoulders and motioned, "OK." I didn't think we'd actually do it and when the night was over, we'd go to twelve in all. Twelve hash bars in twelve hours? I'm glad I did that because records are meant to be broken... More

2. Zippers Come Undone in Vegas by Grubby
At the club, Maya chatted me up. She said she'd moved from Fremont, CA, and has been living with her mother for three weeks. She's been working at Rhino for half that. I believed all of it... More

3. Fugue in Geek Minor By Falstaff
I had torn off down to New Orleans for Fall Break, gotten drunk at Wet Willie's, pissed in a public park under a streetlight and gotten front row seats at Big Daddy's Topless & Bottomless, where a Eurasian chick with a black pageboy cut and three tattoos did things to Jason's hat that made him swear he would never do laundry again... More

4. The Man John Never Knew by Nick Cantwell
John spent all day with one eye on the latest share prices, and his other eye fixed on the neighbourhood - and when his job became second nature to him, it was this other eye that he found much more captivating... More

5. Grounded by Sean A. Donahue
I just wanted to rest. But Dad would have none of it, from the yard work being done to taking me out to lunch, we did everything but sleep... More

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