Tuesday, June 30, 2009

"Anyone know the day?" and a picture dump 

I haven't been writing much in my little corner of the web over the last few weeks like I intended. As much as I tried to prepare myself for the WSOP onslaught, I suppose you can never be ready until you actually go through it. I actually considered writing a "How to Survive your first full WSOP" post but that seemed a bit presumptuous. I haven't actually survived the entire thing yet. I'm sure I'll make it over the next 2+ weeks but why take a chance on talking myself into a meltdown.

Dr. Pauly can give all the advice he wants to people flying into Las Vegas for vacation but there's no set of rules or helpful hints for the newb coming out here for 7 weeks to cover thousands and thousands of brain dead idiots. Things truly melt into one big pile after a certain amount of time. That amount of time for me was around my third week, in no time at all things compressed and I find myself looking at the end and glad for it.

You'd think I would have found time over the last two weeks to maybe write the story about getting rolled. Again. By a stripper this time with witnesses.

All my energy and time has been to posting on the FTP blog and keeping up with everything. Unless you've been out here you can't imagine just how hard it is to come up with different ways to describe the scene. I've kept my sanity with my friends, bottles of booze and some well timed sleep. Today is day 33 in the Rio and only 2 of those days I didn't have my ass firmly planted in my seat.

You may enjoy reading the past tales of Otis and Pauly, perhaps thinking them chock full of hyperbole and think it can't really all be like that. I'm here to tell you that it's usually even more over the top then what they are telling you. Day after day after day just watching thousands of people throw their dead money away. It's stunning to watch a live 4-digit buyin tournament have players busting out at four or five PER MINUTE. Most of these guys would get better return on their money if they just bought a good bottle of booze and a mid-range hooker. They would last longer and have a souvenir circling the bowl when done.

At this point it feels like the world is conspiring against everything I do. The donks in the hallway are walking slow just to piss me off, I'm always walking against the stream, every broke ass players needs to bum a smoke outside the poker kitchen, or I find that one bartender who doesn't feel like pouring me a shot. I think I have a running case of food poisoning from nasty two day old Chinese food. But that one is all on me.

All that being said you might think I'm having a horrible time and never want to do this again. Don't read that into my comments.

While most people are working hard at their jobs I'm sitting comfortably on my perch above the Amazon Room. You may be sitting in a cubicle, office, death trap with a bunch of corporate tool bags while I have the pleasure of having Benjo and Otis to my left with MeanGene, Dr. Pauly and Cali Jenn on the right. I win that battle every time. I get to drink (often) during work breaks while prop betting hookers and waitress-tainers. Late night drinking followed by early morning Pai Gow.

I spent an evening at the strip club with F-Train while Grubby made a quick Vegas trip (the getting rolled part of that night will be written sooner or later, when it's not so fresh in my memory). There was the party with friends and the lovely Liv Boeree where I finally was able to catch a Steel Panther show. I get to listen to lovely French girls talk to Benjo and squirrel it away the ol' spank bank. The girls, not Benjo.

Don't you worry about me, things are rocking along and the Main Event parties are about to hit full swing. That's when the job gets tough.


The Daily Crutch

I have a metric shit ton of pics to start posting. Just because you haven't seen them in awhile doesn't mean my camera hasn't been clicking away. I'm just going to dump a bunch and let you have at them. DanM has been waiting on the Liv Boeree / Steel Panther pictures, here ya go.

The lovely Lacey Jones decided the Detroit Red Wings would be her hockey team in the finals. One morning she showed up with "Stanley" Cup cakes, leaving one specifically for Penguin groupie MeanGene.

Cali Jenn invited us to a "little" birthday party at an out of the way bar. A casual count came up with at least 11 bracelets in the "little" bar. I'll never understand how these big guys don't understand how the hell to get a drink. They were bitching all night but I wasn't having a problem. Professional drink et al. While the other patrons were getting snarled at, I was doing shots with them.

I'm only posting this slightly embarrassing picture of myself for one reason. MeanGene told me if I post this picture then I had permission to post this picture of him. My excuse was that I need some place to sit waiting for the valet, who knew it would come out so dirty looking. You'll have to ask Gene for his excuse.

Word leaked that several people were heading off to the Steel Panther show. There are several reasons why I've missed this show but I talked Cali Jenn into going against her better nature. Bonus paid when Liv Boeree showed up and gathered at a few private tables for booze and rock. Next thing we know, she's up on stage with the band and it got very interesting.

I'll even go so far as to post a picture of my ugly ass just bring you one more picture. I am not an attractive troll. (Please take note of my Rooster-friendly t-shirt. "Free Range Cock")