tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12126808509757999682024-02-21T06:07:29.973-06:00SUPPLEMENTAL INCOME...a sensual candlelight stroll through the lush gardens of my mind where lions and giraffes walk paw-in-hoof together, as friends, and sing Christmas carols aloud to the joy and cheer of a multicultural group of orphan children from UNICEF. Only it's not Christmas, the animals are poker players, they hate each other, and the buffet sucks. The children? Ask the lions what happened to them...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-11427038408402121902012-10-08T00:42:00.004-05:002012-10-08T23:34:22.714-05:00CHICAGO! SPARTAN RACE! ENTER LORD PUDDINGSWORTH! PACKAGES!Well, I've heard insanity, by definition, is if you fail at something the first time, to do it again and expect different results. Or to put on a long blonde wig, wear a luxiorious mink coat, rob graves by day for food, live in the sewers by night, and call yourself "Lord Malcom Puddingsworth."<br />
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Chicago has become something of an annual trip for me. This will be the end of the trilogy if it doesn't come out special. Made the trip two years ago and came out enough of a loser to put me in a grouchy mood for three days. Last year, broke even despite being ahead $3k going into the main event, where I learned what the only feeling worse than busting out of the main event was. Since the main event format changed into a "one rebuy" format, that educated me on what was worse than busting out <em>once</em>. Which put me exactly even on that trip. Grrrr. So Chicago still owes me a little money over the past two years. And I'm off to get it with interest.<br />
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The funny thing is over all I have NO desire to go to Chicago. More accurately, Hammond, Indiana right across the border. Whiiiiiiiich is right next to Gary, Indiana...where, as George Carlin would have said, the econimically disadvantaged live in substandard housing and have a negative income cash flow. And they are very, very eager to kill you. But it's not the Garyans and their murderous ways that get to me.<br />
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Chicago is just...not my kind of town. Can't describe it. The midwest is too...ordinary? Milquetoast? Polite? Sterile? It's filled with such an obscene amount of bland, polite conversation from the sub-Canadians that within two or three days, I'm YEARNING to get back to the dirty South. Or to do something offensive to someone. Anyone.<br />
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I have lots of obscure theories. Chicago and New Orleans are both known for their corruption. New Orleans politicians got away with it forever because of the lack of education and the populace desiring entertainment above results. Chicago politicians got away with it because of the overall desire of midwesterners to please everyone in some socialistic utilitarian fashion and not speak to badly about awful people, even if they are in charge. <br />
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It's an imperfect theory, and I'm working on it, but I'd prefer living down South.<br />
It's definitely a <em>clean </em>city. Unlike native New Orleans. Maybe I just can't adapt. I can even remember the homeless peorple in the Chicago area trying to scrap together a few bucks by selling at red lights...wait for it....wait for it...<br />
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Towels!!! Still haven't connected the dots on that one. Every red light around the suburbs. Homeless people selling towels. <br />
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If I don't come out ahead this trip...I may be scrapping for a piece of red light turf...<br />
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Anyway by nightfall Wednesday, Monkey, Claudia Crawford, and Barth Melius and I will be hunkered down, ready to rumble bright and early Thursday. <br />
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So, check out this video. Unless you're reading it at night. In which case you'll be so motivated to get seriously fit, cure all major diseases, including polio, and become so financially independent you won't get to sleep tonight...<br />
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Okay. So, long story short, they cured Polio.<br />
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Yaaaayyyyy!!!!!<br />
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Short story long, I'm training to run this event with a few hip movitated friends Matt Beard, Leigh Ann Hunter and Lilian Perez and a few others on November 10 in Perkinson, Mississippi. Our team name? The Ultra-Violent Bath Salt Zombies. A name just in time for Halloween! Anyone else who is psychotic enough to run on our team with us is welcome to join. This race is crazy. So call me, maybe.<br />
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So I get to look forward to training hard on the shores of Lake Michigan for the next two weeks or so. Long runs, sprints, pushups, burpees in the cold weather. Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!!<br />
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That's probably what one might consider a healthy, successful lifestyle. But I believe in balance in all areas of life...so<br />
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I've decided, in the interest of balancing out this healthy, positive person I will be by day, to let loose with "Lord Puddingsworth" during my casino time. I'm afraid I can't get into who or what exactly Lord Puddingsworth is. Let's just say he is enough of a remarkably repugnant character to irritate the midwesterners into making financially criminal decisions at the poker table. Decisions of there's I should profit nicely from. I'll be stretching out the Halloween freak show all month. We should have video of this entity by the weekend here or on Youtube. Stay tuned.<br />
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Some of you, before I even announced my trip to Chicago texted me or PM'd me asking about staking me, which I always take as a nice gesture of confidence in me. Or pure, unadulterated greed on your parts. <br />
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Don't really care to too "sell myself" too much, but just in the interest on lowering my variance, and lessening my buy-ins, I'm doing it again for no markup. That's the way Lord Puddingsworth rolls.<br />
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So I'll only play those events with backer money where I don't have to worry about overlapping days one and two of seperate events in this series<br />
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So I'll play six events --1, 2,4, 6, 7, and 10 (the main) --with some backers' money and mostly my own. All other events will be exclusively mine. Total buy-ins for those events is $3930 (365 + 580 + 365 + 580 + 365 + 1675). So let's say an even $40 gets you an exact 1% of all my action in those six events. And I won't sell more than 35% of myself in these events.<br />
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So....the math couldn't be more simple. Whatever I make...you get 1% of it...if you wish to own a piece of Lord Puddingsworth. I never charge "markup." I'm just kind of dumb like that.<br />
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Time to get ready for this venture to the Windy City! Maybe I actually am looking forward to it! Always great to get away...<br />
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Lastly, I want to give my roommate Rachel in the "back" of Chateau Landry my condolences for the loss of her father Rex, who, some of you may remember, was our dealer in the first annual World's Undisputed Poker World Champion of the World Championship back in July. Rex managed to play while dealing to a really rambunctious bunch of individuals, and somehow, in all the hysteria and confusion, still managed to come in third. That's a lot to think about at once, and he did an amazing job, having worked as a poker dealer for many years here in the Gulf Coast. I know it's Rachel's first big loss in her life, and the most meaningful person in the world to her. Hope she isn't upset I didn't attend her dad's services but I think she understands I'm "funeralled out" after the past couple of years. Just couldn't take another service. She's been through enough even before this and I'm proud of her how she keeps rolling with the punches somehow. She's a tough kid, and what else can I say other than things will start getting better for her. They will. They always do. <br />
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Look forward to talking to you guys soon!!!<br />
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Lord Puddingsworth<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0345803493&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe>Today's blog was brought to you by Amazon. For the record, I have not read this book. But I hear all the guys are reading it. And if that's the case, I have no problem trying to make 13 cents from anyone clicking the above banner and purchasing the sequel to the bestseller. Actually, truth be told, it's a book for girls, so supposedly there's lots of recipes in there. So, click on the above banner, ladies, make me 13 cents, and learn a good smothered pork dish! Yum! Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-39050245739907662142012-10-03T03:30:00.000-05:002012-10-03T03:30:02.474-05:00SOMETHING NEWTo all of you who are rightfully complaining that I have not done anything for a long while; you are correct.<br />
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This ends this coming week as I take off to Chicago to unveil my new entity -- sprung forth from the chrysallis of madness.<br />
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This coming week I shall unleash upon the Windy City...<br />
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Lord Sebastian Willoughby Puddingsworth XIII.<br />
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Stay tuned, mortals.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-38009728541906176842012-07-18T02:20:00.000-05:002012-07-18T21:57:14.873-05:00RESULTS FROM OUR PRELIMINARY SATELLITE FOR THE HUBCAP!!!Ok, Loyal Voyeurs,<br />
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Here we are. My first attempt at making an iMovie on my Mac...the idea occured to me that I might want to start shooting some footage on my phone as we got down to our final four players in the preliminary satellite for my <b>World's Undisputed World Poker Champion of the World Championship-- Brawl for the Junkyard Hubcap 2012</b>. The only free-to-enter homegame on the planet with a trophy that dwarfs the Stanley Cup. <br />
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So I shot some footage on grainy Super 8 film settings (a cool app, complete with skipping film effect) to give the movie a seedy 70's feel, and some footage on regular setting. I feel pretty fond of my musical score. I only wish I had shot more footage!<br />
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It's amazing what you can do with a just phone and a laptop these days. <br />
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Anyway, congratulations to Tim Barnes, who obviously felt that coming in first warranted excess celebration, even though Dustin Stewart and Rex Davis got an equal seat at the final table in two weeks. I'm not sure, but I think some people were drinking.<br />
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Running a parallel storyline to the inferior poker event going on right now in Las Vegas, known as the "World Series of Poker," Melissa Parker, obviously a female, bubbled the event, just like the females in the WSOP main event -- just missing the final table. However Melissa has two more shots, just like anyone else, as we will run two more satellites before our championship for the Kaiser trophy on July 29.<br />
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Again, if you want in, PM me, and let's all try to make the tournament on time this week, children!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-6924893225570171092012-07-15T15:03:00.001-05:002012-07-15T16:10:17.260-05:00WUPWCW tourney UPDATEAllright, guys, looks like we're going to be doing<strong> only an</strong> <strong>8 pm</strong> tourney tonight. Bring lots of booze. As a reminder this is a preliminary run. Winners will move on to the final round for the trophy SUNDAY July 29. There will be 9 winners making the final table.<br />
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I must mention that this is a FREE tournament for the hubcap trophy. No cash involved. Whatever you guys do outside of here is your own business...<br />
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Looks like further good news has just arrived as well! The owners of <a href="http://www.gulfcoastpoker.net/">http://www.gulfcoastpoker.net/</a> will be sponsoring our Sunday, July 29 WUPWCW CHAMPIONSHIP FINAL TABLE, giving away a hoodie and a hat and who knows what else as the trophy is presented.<br />
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Jennifer Gay of Poker News has volunteered to be writing a feature article about our players and doing a live internet news update stream direct from my living room. Yes. That's right.<br />
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Any moment now I'm waiting for a jewelry store to sponsor the trophy by embossing it with diamonds. Let's wait and see.<br />
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Let the brawl for the hubcap begin!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-56704425568746562262012-07-14T03:46:00.002-05:002012-07-14T12:33:18.417-05:00"WORLD'S UNDISPUTED POKER WORLD CHAMPION OF THE WORLD" TROPHY UNVEILED!!!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4yvFq__zgLR1rIG7iP4S1aqfFybDh4qNBNIzV6NKlNmPgDeXo-AiuH8QZRDOwbz_gSf0aU_SAbyXuGzJgDsLypFN1JPeTZLiNz_Uy7gc4cllL41trIvj_xAQgcPCYO_kn8dwb_snHcBa/s1600/blog7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4yvFq__zgLR1rIG7iP4S1aqfFybDh4qNBNIzV6NKlNmPgDeXo-AiuH8QZRDOwbz_gSf0aU_SAbyXuGzJgDsLypFN1JPeTZLiNz_Uy7gc4cllL41trIvj_xAQgcPCYO_kn8dwb_snHcBa/s320/blog7.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not to be outdone by the billion dollar WSOP and WPT, I have created the <br />
single greatest trophy in sports history. Read on, punk.</td></tr>
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First off, I'd like to welcome everyone to this blog once again, my regular readers, newcomers, and members of the media.</div>
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Today, as you know, is a special day for poker. It appears that this Sunday will be the day the greatest trophy in the sports world will be put into action. This Sunday evening (or possibly the next), in my living room, if all plans fall into place, the first annual <strong>"Kai Landry Invitational Brawl for the Junkyard Hubcap Deciding the World's Undisputed Poker World Champion of the World Trophy"</strong> will be awarded to, well, quite simply, the world's undisputed poker world champion of the world. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BmOgNY1W8UQaomy38x2RotQfbN_L-PBgovks30Fl7zIrvs3U8PIBejWH2ZpjSM026PShnNJMN_8-zjw9Y3iTJL-fm5isomfyVUUdOVmyKUGd_kxxASXv7PP5IwC3D7hw35JUJvTibn5J/s1600/blog777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BmOgNY1W8UQaomy38x2RotQfbN_L-PBgovks30Fl7zIrvs3U8PIBejWH2ZpjSM026PShnNJMN_8-zjw9Y3iTJL-fm5isomfyVUUdOVmyKUGd_kxxASXv7PP5IwC3D7hw35JUJvTibn5J/s320/blog777.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right here, right now.</td></tr>
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This, ladies and gentlemen, is the largest and grandest trophy in all of professional sports.</div>
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Forget the WSOP main event going on right now in Las Vegas with their $10,000 buy in and "world championship bracelet." The fact of the matter is that if you win, there's still 40 or so other guys with a main event bracelet just like yours, and a few thousand people with some WSOP bracelet or EPT bracelet or whatever. Then there's all the championship poker rings, which are, for the most part less prestegious than a bracelet no matter how much more money you've possibly won with a ring than a bracelet (which happens every now and then). Enough with the jewelry. It's just not BIG. And I think nothing says CHAMPIONSHIP like BIG.</div>
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Or maybe this is just me crying "sour grapes" and trying to create my <em>own</em> reality since this is the first year in four years I've not played in the WSOP in the dry, crippling Las Vegas heat taking a shot at a bracelet. I just simply could not make it out this year. <em>Sigh. </em>Looking at WSOP.com day after day after day on my computer screen, seeing all the familiar names, knowing all the intimate idiosyncracies on each competitor's play, knowing I could maybe, just maybe this year snag that elusive bracelet...</div>
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And as I write this I see that my Biloxi friend Claudia Crawford has sadly busted out of the main, and that only 281 people stand between my good friend Will Souther and poker immortality ($8.5 million). Day 5 of the WSOP is today (Saturday) and with any luck we'll be watching him in my living room Sunday night on ESPN as we play our consolidation event...or as I'll stubbornly call it, "the real event." By the way, Monkey, nice year to run like a Kenyan when I don't own 40% of you like last year! UGH!!!</div>
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The truth is I've been MISERABLE not getting to see my Vegas friends this year, and jealous of those who DID get to go. And I've learned with a bit of maturity that any form of jealousy is ultimately a form of selfishness. The only way to cure jealousy is to do something completely unselfish for others. And what can I say...because to cure it, I have now personally forged <strong>the greatest trophy in professional sports known to man, and given freely to one lucky person - the winner of my home tournament. The trophy will be unveiled to you all very shortly.</strong></div>
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Now on to the tournament this Sunday. Hell, I'm not even sure how to proceed with it. I'll be dealing and not playing, but due to people's fickle nature, I'm never sure who's going to show up. This is an invitation only event, but if you are interested in playing,<strong> private message me</strong>. I cannot promise everyone a seat and Sunday may be just a preliminary event. I have a certain number of people in mind, but we will see how much interest I get throughout the day and I will decide how to procede from there.</div>
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You want to see the trophy don't you? I know you do. It's killing you. </div>
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Just hold on for a moment as we take a trip down inferior trophy lane, representing all major championship trophies in the major sports, starting with...</div>
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#1: The Lombardi trophy. Arguably the most sought after trophy in sports. 22 inches high, and only 7 pounds. With a little creativity, you could maybe shoplift one in a big enough overcoat and someone causing a distraction. Nice shiny Tiffany crystal, but gets full of fingerprints and never looks nice. Actually, kind of plain.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7-lL6HDGgFtKEQmd53N8P7qkyHWJjQZecLpWA-oldYigC_OUbJx4vTXVoeB3kGEzSontxhJfcRKWZ8TR3rkGdjVNwm9juqrABiWWebzHZXmurij4Hm8GLD8siKvwOyaLfVOjtcJN04m66/s1600/blog123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img $ca="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7-lL6HDGgFtKEQmd53N8P7qkyHWJjQZecLpWA-oldYigC_OUbJx4vTXVoeB3kGEzSontxhJfcRKWZ8TR3rkGdjVNwm9juqrABiWWebzHZXmurij4Hm8GLD8siKvwOyaLfVOjtcJN04m66/s1600/blog123.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I always forget who won this event, So I often ask my friends in Atlanta to help me remember...</td></tr>
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#2: WSOP bracelets and the HORSE trophy.</div>
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Chip Reese's honorary trophy stands a Lombardi-like 21 inches high. It sports some weight though at 60 pounds. I give this trophy pretty high marks, but it's not even HALF the size of the new great trophy. The WSOP bracelet? We've already covered this topic, but additionally, what poker player wants to wear a bracelet that looks like it was designed in Liberace's most fantastic dreams while Sigfried magically shot diamonds out of his fingertips perfectly into the gold housing? Again, yes this is me being all "sour grapes," but you have to admit I'm right here...</div>
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#3: The NBA trophy.</div>
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Just UGLY. Makes me want to puke. Everywhere. For two or three hours. Until even my bile supply is totally depleted. They should give this trophy to the losing team. Who, should try to mop up my puke with the trophy. Until it gets done and the floor is SPOTLESS.</div>
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#4. the Comissioner's Trophy (baseball)</div>
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Ok. You've seen it. Next. (It has no real competitive value when one team is allowed to pretty much buy almost all of them year after year after year).</div>
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#5 The Stanley Cup. </div>
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Now we're talking! A trophy to be respected!</div>
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Full Stanley Cup: Height - <strong>89.54 cm /</strong> <strong>35-1/4 inches</strong>Weight - 34-1/2 lbs - 15-1/2 kg</div>
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If it's dimensions weren't initially identified by the metric system I could give it more respect. In the United States, we don't use the metric system, chief. Damn nice trophy though! In fact, it earns a strong second place in the world of trophies. Shiny, engraved with the names of former winners (classy), and it looks like you could kill someone with it if you tried hard enough (always a plus). But it's JUST NOT BIG ENOUGH!!!!!!!</div>
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#6 lastly and sadly -- The BCS Crystal trophy.</div>
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Look. It's a great piece, looks first class, but the damn thing is slippery as hell, clearly giving an advantage to the worst team last year (Alabama). It's major flaw is that it causes a handicap for the clearly superior team from time to time, as it did last year. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.<br />
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But now the moment you've all been waiting for. This next trophy was forged in rust, blood, sweat and tears. It is more sacred in it's amazing craftsmanship and more revered, precious and valuable than a Stradivarius wrapped in the Shroud of Turin.</div>
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In fact, it's not even fair to compare this trophy to other trophies. It only makes sense to put this glorious piece of craftsmanship in the same discussion with holy relics such as the Ark of the Covenant. Does my trophy have otherworldly powers, and can it melt the faces of your enemies? I don't know yet. It's only been on the Earth for a couple of days now. Winner beware.<br />
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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU: THE KAISER<br />
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A genuine Vancleve, Misissippi junkyard hubcap surrounded by four winged eagles bowing towards each other. The rusted hubcap is placed upon a sturdy, majestic four column trophy base with really cool stars shooting up out of the middle and stuff. The <span style="font-size: large;">trophy<strong> stands a towering 46" high.</strong></span> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sexy profile shot. Respect.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kaiser rusted hubcap trophy dwarfs a stardard WPT event crystal trophy and almost takes up the entire table. It could eat that little trophy it if it were hungry.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">As you know, the inscriber kind of got it a little bit wrong (it should have read "Worlds undisputed world poker champion of the world), but we will fix that when we also add the name of the event's winner and date at it's base after this Sunday. But let's face it. If the WSOP and the WPT and any other league can claim to have THE world champion...so can I. So if you win this trophy, you are the poker champion of the world.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">It has a rusted out fleur-de-lis, so you know it's a classy item, baby!</td></tr>
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I will decide by the end of tonight how to proceed with Sunday's tournament. It would be fun to deal to you guys as you "brawl it out" as all we watch the WSOP finals on TV this Sunday. If it will just be a preliminary, or with enough interest, we'll keep entrants going for a few weeks. If you're interested, chances are I will let you play. But I can't promise you. <br />
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<strong>Message me if you want to play this Sunday (it's free), and good luck!</strong> I'd love to deal to you and watch you win this thing! May the hubcap be with you!</div>
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Kai</div>
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P.S. In a nutshell, the hubcap trophy, as we're playing each other and watching the WSOP main event wind down on TV, is a "festivus for the rest of us." A trophy for those of us who couldn't make it to the big show this year.<br />
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P.P.S. You might be asking yourself right about now, "Why a rusty old hubcap?..."</div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-4581376004301781732012-05-19T23:47:00.002-05:002012-05-20T01:23:55.186-05:00No day 3 for me in the main event.Just 96 more people to fade in a ginormous event, but me having AK and 7 laps of chips left and the other guy having AA and a fat stack meant it was just not my day. <br />
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I will resist all temptation to post here the emotiocon of a colon followed by an opening parenthesis.<br />
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That or the F word.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-90332411038091347972012-05-19T11:06:00.001-05:002012-05-19T11:06:52.775-05:00saturdaecinse thee blogs are getting smaler i feel like their getting dummer. i made dae too. 30000 in chips. i re start at too oklok.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-31624271640558375262012-05-18T15:16:00.001-05:002012-05-18T15:16:51.776-05:00Doing the MAIN at 7pm today.Almost finished a proper blog this morning but the hotel kicked me out, mentioning something about a "check out time" clause. Seems they think they own the place.
Whatever.
Going in 7pm well rested and fully ridiculous. Ready to start the main event at Harrah's.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-57344456419204116092012-05-14T22:30:00.000-05:002012-05-14T22:30:04.247-05:00MONDAY!!!!Nothing happened. Going to play cash and savor a concoction known as "alcohol."<br />
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Will play fourth $355 tomorrow or Wednesday.<br />
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Fascinating, no?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-12546359852491520492012-05-14T01:58:00.000-05:002012-05-14T22:27:17.352-05:00Sunday reportHow shall I put this, backers? We are now 0/2. Made it to dinner break in today's $355, then played for an hour or so past that, when soon thereafter my "tens" ran into someone's usually impenetrable brick wall known as "Aces," at which time the balance of my chips hit the "zero mark." 60 people away from the money. Not even nearly close enough. 345 people or so started this one. It happens. Three shots left to get you...something. Something above what you've invested. So far each shareholder is now $7 in the hole! Oh the high drama!!!! ;)<br />
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May not play tomorrow unless I can get this hotel situation squared away nicely. If I am to once again begin lining up those damn dominoes again at noon, starting all over again from "domino one" and hope I can line them all up and keep them growing until 2am without any major domino destruction train, I want to make sure I'm doing it on a good night of rest. Maybe a house of cards would have been a better analogy here. I don't know. Nah. Too un-clever. Anyway, it's late. Do feel like I'm playing better every day. Truly razor sharp at some moments. Let's see if that can start counting for something sometime soon.<br />
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But yeah, I need a room down there in NOLA. This drive back to Biloxi isn't that far, but, then again, it's still three hours a day, and it eats up poker reading time -- keeping my brain just right. Sorry, roommate. You'll have to enjoy stately Landry Manor all to yourself this week...again.<br />
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Besides all that, I've been harvesting many ridiculous stories to be properly blogged once it's time for all that. Much entertainment on the way. But for now, sleep, wake up, read poker, play poker.<br />
<br />
Goodnight. <br />
<br />
I'll keep updates coming. If you see me giving updates on FB tomorrow, then yes, that is your money in play.<br />
<br />
KUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-62224879300308239202012-05-13T02:18:00.000-05:002012-05-13T02:18:21.637-05:00SaturdayNot much to report. Played the $565 (first with backers $). Did not make day 2. Blah. Will make it in to Harrah's tomorrow for second backer event (the $355). Blah.<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-85955556421555225072012-05-10T16:20:00.000-05:002012-05-10T16:30:31.077-05:00Teeny tiny updateBackers, it appears the first event I will (hopefully) be able to play will be the Saturday $565 (event #2) as long as I can get there by 1pm. I will play this event (again, hopefully) in lieu of one of the $355 events in the package. This is of a small benefit to you meaning your "vig" has been cut in half to only $2.70 per share while most likely increasing the prize pool just a hair more for you as well. The best deal in poker just got a little bit better. I'll then play three more "$355s" and the $1,600 main with the moneys from this fund. If you haven't paid, you betta step up, before play starts, yo! ;)<br />
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Again the blog below shows those who have already paid. Let me know if there are any errors or whatever.<br />
Anyway, hope you are all doing freaking amazing today, and if you're already at Harrah's today or Friday, feel free to give Senor Monkey your share $$$, which he will dutifully pass on to me. Unless he steals it, or orders too many Red Snappers and tips incredibly liberally. Thanks again, and I'll probably update again tomorrow.<br />
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BSLL,<br />
<br />
KUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-19009251347888723292012-05-08T13:21:00.002-05:002012-05-13T00:39:50.195-05:00KaiShares SOLD OUTWell, well, well. Not a bad run for 24 hours.<br />
<br />
Hoped to pick up 35 mini-backers by the end of the week of 1% of my action in five events in New Orleans (including the main)...and those shares sold out in just under 24 hours. As of now, I'm actually a little bit <em>oversold</em>. Not quite as bad as, say, Delta airlines. But, depending on who is able to pay, I figure by the end of the week, I may have sold 50% of my action. Will absolutely not sell more than that though! I still think that would leave me with ten more shares or so I may be willing to sell. So if you're still interested, I may have a few left I can sell you.<br />
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Of course, a great scheme would be to oversell way past 100% of myself, deliberately lose, and pocket the remaining money (a la The Producers). Ahhhhh....such easy money if only I were a criminal. Unfortunately for me, I'm listing all of you shareholders down at the end of this blog; as well as the number of shares you bought. And I'll be invested in myself <em>at least</em> 50%.<br />
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But being oversold isn't quite the problem it appears due to nature of the beast being that some of you will just simply forget to pay before I get started. No problem immediately, but more on that later.<br />
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I think you guys <em>really</em> liked my sales format. Buying just one percent of a player in several tournaments kind of raises your hopes for a return, as opposed to buying just 5% of someone in the main. And I think it was such a small amount ($35) that it's more of a <em>fun</em> sweat than anything...a "sweat" that gets stretched out over several days. Ideally, I could have sold you all 1% of my action in TEN events, but in this short of a series, that's just not feasable. There's ways around it, but if you start making enough "Day 2s," then it gets complicated, as to how to refund money in events you couldn't play in. <br />
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Not to mention that over the course of ten tournaments, you get a much better liklihood of a return, with a more fair sample size and all. <u>But we're gonna try do it in five, damnit!!!</u><br />
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Most of all what I aimed to do here was to get some of my readers involved, which was a little more interactive and enjoyable. Hearing from a few (essentially anonymous) people who read my blog (and never leave comments, <em>cough cough</em>) and wanted to buy a piece... or even didn't... was satisfying. Getting interaction from those who enjoy my blog, or crossover readers from Monkey's blog (and sports pools) adds another entertaining dynamic to it. I even have a couple of people backing me who don't even play poker, but want to have something to gamble on/ root for. Cool!<br />
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In fact, I believe I'm the only guy going into New Orleans, or any circuit event this year with fifteen backers. HA! I just hope that's not fifteen people to give the "sorry shrug" to at the end of this thing. Hopefully, I get you at least something a little bit above your $35 investment.<br />
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Even got a little more educated on this journey. I've never been backed, outside of save/swaps. And I think the only people I've personally ever backed, ever, was Monkey once, a dealer from the Beau Rivage once, and David Nicholson once. Nice non-cash, Nicholson!!! ;)<br />
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So when Matthew Stroud starts asking me about my markup and my ITM rate...I'm literally like "huh???"<br />
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After he explained "in the money" rate to me, all I could remember was my ITM in the mains. You always remember your main events. I've played ten mains and cashed in 4 ( 1st, a 2d, a 22d and a 24th). I'm sure my ITM in regular events isn't nearly as good as 40% because main events are actually so much easier, as many of you know. I'm also certain my ITM, whatever it is, would be higher if I didn't "swing for the fence" so much. But I like bling and swing hard for it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, here's how the KaiShare backer list stands now.<br />
<br />
FINAL LIST.<br />
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<br />
Barth Melius (10) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Michael Kmetz (5) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Jose Vasquez (2) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Matthew Stroud (5) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Kristin Deerdorf (1)<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> paid</span><br />
Michael Schneider (2) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Kiki Chase (1) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
"a reader: 'Angry F****n' Robert' of far Northeast Mississippi" (10) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Dan Walsh (2) paid<br />
Eric Cochran (2) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
Steve Fernandez (3)<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> paid</span><br />
Corey Souther (3) paid<br />
Mark Shreve (1) <span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">Yvonne "Duvernet Parish" Carlisle</span> </span><span style="color: #cccccc;">(2) </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;">Clay Dedeaux (5) </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;">Jimmy Dotson (1) </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;">paid</span><br />
<br />
This is for (4) $355 events and (1) main event. IF you send money via PayPal, be sure to go to "send money" --> to --> amount --> then hit the "<u>personal</u> tab" instead of purchase. It <em>should </em>spare us any PayPal fees. Just please try to pay before play begins for me so there's no confusion. I'll have a final tally of who's in/ out before my first tournament.<br />
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Lastly, I may not be able to start on Thursday or Friday due to the very recent passing of my favorite uncle. I am very honored that he requested me to be one of his pallbearers at his service on Saturday. So, not quite the place for this news at all, however I will simply and briefly say that he will be incredibly missed by us all. He was fortunate to live a long, rich life with kids, grandkids and great grandkids. Hopefully, we'll all be that lucky in our personal lives. We're still waiting to hear the details of his services, and this will determine on what day I can begin play. Possibly Thursday or Friday, most likely Sunday. Will let you all know. Thanks.<br />
<br />
K<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-32951107977054348872012-05-06T12:38:00.000-05:002012-05-06T16:35:56.597-05:00KaiShares AVAILABLE ONCE AGAIN! BE A 1%ER!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYP6ZBZYqwGkK8TalvypdA5JXcVxi2-Wwk21x1vNAS68DDY_DIHw90pYqxHipFVc6XY74jzJIoQyq_b4wcU30uzpBvtqWH2S2wfy3UScIVGp2_iA2wLsdoGTRwXE9ATn5P2vaHmYbL86z/s1600/xx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYP6ZBZYqwGkK8TalvypdA5JXcVxi2-Wwk21x1vNAS68DDY_DIHw90pYqxHipFVc6XY74jzJIoQyq_b4wcU30uzpBvtqWH2S2wfy3UScIVGp2_iA2wLsdoGTRwXE9ATn5P2vaHmYbL86z/s320/xx.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Be in the 1 percent! Don't be a 99%er!</div>
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So, the New Orleans WSOP-C is right around the corner, and yours truly is looking gleefully towards it. Hungry for final tables, more cash, more rings, more blood, more victories.</div>
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Hungry.</div>
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However you add it up, roughly thirteen days of poker in the Crescent City.</div>
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And I've decided to open up my services to the general public. Just a little bit. Quite simply put, it's the best deal in poker. <br />
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Let's call it "OPERATION: OCCUPY KAI'S PANTS."</div>
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisct_2C7fpM0jPXvKLu6fNoy0ZnJgMGogzV0aG93IyDUkyGHtxjaDkpniWHnrzQRTIFD7jo312RgIzbYkniZ6Ekykb9yefk17es-HOuRnM7HJAFZDM_M6TNHhAuTfyZJSet_blAh7ZvUv_/s1600/xxx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisct_2C7fpM0jPXvKLu6fNoy0ZnJgMGogzV0aG93IyDUkyGHtxjaDkpniWHnrzQRTIFD7jo312RgIzbYkniZ6Ekykb9yefk17es-HOuRnM7HJAFZDM_M6TNHhAuTfyZJSet_blAh7ZvUv_/s320/xxx.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you imagine the <em>smell</em> of these "99%ers?" Ughhh!</td></tr>
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One percent at a time.</div>
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This is a limited time offer. (drumroll)</div>
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<strong><u>$35</u></strong> buys you 1 percent of Kai's action in the WSOP-C New Orleans May 10-21, 2012.. This will be for 1% of ALL my action in<em> </em><u>(4) $355 events</u> and <u>one $1600 main event</u>. <br />
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For those of you who are skilled in the art of mathematics, you will notice that this earns me a whopping $5 profit for each shareholder. Since the buy in for all these (five) events adds up to $3,020 and I'm charging $35 for each 1% share. <br />
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Essentially, in these five events, I'm looking to play with $1,795 of my own money and $1,225 of KaiShare holders money (35 shares at $35 each).</div>
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<strong>"I am a 1%er!!!"</strong> Yes, friends, that can be your chant to the unbathed, quasi-militant, malcontent, dusgruntled Jacobin mutant-comrades and their zombie like quest for "free love."</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzT-gSxZVFXC2BxX08TJScpYZiP-IDjpHiTY0R4J_bnkJFt_RG1rHI8SO8PQJz_tx9bwMGaC6GU6mTC8IuYImKA0o0cyEiJRI_DkhVm5GOOzhaaR46UetQ5W-acYN9Ci6MDwwizWIdzPIL/s1600/x98.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzT-gSxZVFXC2BxX08TJScpYZiP-IDjpHiTY0R4J_bnkJFt_RG1rHI8SO8PQJz_tx9bwMGaC6GU6mTC8IuYImKA0o0cyEiJRI_DkhVm5GOOzhaaR46UetQ5W-acYN9Ci6MDwwizWIdzPIL/s320/x98.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This angry mob is protesting that <br />
"KaiShares is too good of a deal!!!"</td></tr>
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Say it loud and say it proud to the 99%ers as you adjust your monocle pompously! "I am a winner. And you are a loser. For I backed Kai in a 1% stake of his 2012 New Orleans WSOP series. Behold, sir, for you live in a commune of dead ideals and live in a trailer with your eleven kids in need of orthrodontic care and a wife who looks like Tom Petty. Go back to your 99% of dissent, sorrow, and ingratitude."</div>
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I'll now proceed with the rest of this KaiShares presentation in a question and answer forum.</div>
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Q n A forum.</div>
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I don't know about all this. I kind of feel like gambling is a sin.</div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">You're right, astute reader! Gambling is a probably a sin. Next question.</span></div>
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Can I buy more than one KaiShare? <br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Sure you can, eager reader. But be aware that Kai does not wish to sell more than thirty-five KaiShares for these five events in New Orleans. I wish to play with 60% of my own money.</span></div>
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Hey, I looked at the WSOP-C schedule in New Orleans, and there's like twelve ring events. How come you're only letting people buy in for four $355 events and one $1600 main event?</div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Good question, reader. It's because I'm giving myself room to make a few "day twos," which overlap into the next event. Also, I'm planning on a good run in the main, which overlaps the last two events. To answer your next question, I'll be posting here on this blog ahead of time (probably a day ahead of time) precisely which events I'll be playing with your investment. It's possible I may play more events with money outside of KaiShares shareholders investments but this would be posted ahead of time in this blog. All that being said, I'll certainly be playing event #1, event #6 (the six handed max event), and the main event with KaiShare holders money, with another $355 event TBD.</span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqe79dHac0ujafR-tD-6bDZMmBiBoe-FfhONlVoAMKPH5I_5oxTmPZIMpwnTZ37RdIs-FrGV50L8Yd_GiKjdnKqXdPLcI2GJPtINDvL9sh7s22N2dkxKQnVZj9gAxtMFaBiPcJnyKy1YH_/s1600/xx212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqe79dHac0ujafR-tD-6bDZMmBiBoe-FfhONlVoAMKPH5I_5oxTmPZIMpwnTZ37RdIs-FrGV50L8Yd_GiKjdnKqXdPLcI2GJPtINDvL9sh7s22N2dkxKQnVZj9gAxtMFaBiPcJnyKy1YH_/s320/xx212.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Absolutely the wrong way to deal with the "burning building" problem</td></tr>
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What happens if you win the main event? <br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Well what do you think happens, stupid? You get paid 1% of that amount. If the main event victory is $200,000, and Kai wins it, then you get $2000. Plus whatever I gross, if anything, in the three smaller tourneys.</span></div>
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I live in Brazillian slum known as a "favela." Sometimes father throws me out in the street to beg for spare change. Can I buy KaiShare for cheaper?</div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">No. Hard work breeds character. Maybe sell some pencils. Don't be a hippie and beg. Maybe learn ultimate fighting skills and get out of the ghetto. Isn't that what you Brazilians do? Or become trannys? Look, I'm getting off track here...it's only a $35 investment and even you international people can pay through PayPal. Just do a person to person transaction and there's no fee!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbICFGM41AG7rFWfhHCs6dQwbAXxIoMPcIKHmP-4xrVhNG5akcpPM3OVC8Me4yRNueElWirJK1EVv1rFEHvJTjXAX800oMoCfkQbD29eeawds2bV5zeLnVwx8NuCDs_r2tQ8sb5BRpZrvP/s1600/xxxxx3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbICFGM41AG7rFWfhHCs6dQwbAXxIoMPcIKHmP-4xrVhNG5akcpPM3OVC8Me4yRNueElWirJK1EVv1rFEHvJTjXAX800oMoCfkQbD29eeawds2bV5zeLnVwx8NuCDs_r2tQ8sb5BRpZrvP/s1600/xxxxx3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, shit...did we just burn down Harrah's?</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #cccccc;">I've done the math on this and it looks like even if you dont cash, you'll still make $175 from your "1% backers."</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpsEW3p9M0VRRrhd1zjQNkICiLeKGy9taiSmAQSTi2jK8nGQBvi4yi6fFNJgOSu1pRJHJSsWPprLnv3-44sQxFJQiw-7BLiY7RbKYzj78x3fV8F1YlaWkkS8W1x0ZTa88rXPIKSCDpvK0/s1600/xxxx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpsEW3p9M0VRRrhd1zjQNkICiLeKGy9taiSmAQSTi2jK8nGQBvi4yi6fFNJgOSu1pRJHJSsWPprLnv3-44sQxFJQiw-7BLiY7RbKYzj78x3fV8F1YlaWkkS8W1x0ZTa88rXPIKSCDpvK0/s320/xxxx.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Um, let's not, and you go home and occupy your bathtub, hippie.</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Yep. That's right. Big profit. Goodbye mortgage. Goodbye overseas paternity lawsuit from Bangkok street walker. Also, I can buy my way to the front of the line in the "liver recipient" list. All the problems in my life solved. Oh, wait, no...I'm also investing $1795 in myself for this series. Looks like I better cash.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;">So, if I buy one KaiShare you would need to gross $3600 in wins for me to receive a profit, right? But if you only gross, like, $1700 in wins I'd sitll get $17 back right?</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Yes and yes. All very simple math. If I cash $10,000, you get $100. If I cash $50,000, you get $500. No makeup, no weird percentage splits, just simple 1% = 1% in these events.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;">What's the endgame for your hair?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">That's my secret.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;">How can I pay you? And why are you so awesome?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Let's just say I'm doing this for people who read my blog and want to gamble vicariously. It's fun for everyone. I'd like to make some readers and friends some money if I can. If you want to play, it's $35.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;">Do you run good in New Orleans?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Yes.</span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Email me discreetly at <a href="mailto:KaiSeven@hotmail.com">KaiSeven@hotmail.com</a> or at my facebook acct. before this Thursday to get in on the action. :) (This is also the address to send $$$ to via PayPal).</div>
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIoT3hWH7KRWfZ8HeTwsjhCJbmhM-kISp9hQS_YORh0sy5O27L8zcPK3llKCfMvopazvuR4ZsbR3IrdS02Gt2hYpbwSgqLyKMSYrgHNii4ACTOtuguV4TJO-VwMTmTh9Q_GiZvYBoAOKi/s1600/xxxxx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="197" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIoT3hWH7KRWfZ8HeTwsjhCJbmhM-kISp9hQS_YORh0sy5O27L8zcPK3llKCfMvopazvuR4ZsbR3IrdS02Gt2hYpbwSgqLyKMSYrgHNii4ACTOtuguV4TJO-VwMTmTh9Q_GiZvYBoAOKi/s320/xxxxx.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">TAKE THAT, HIPPIE! YOU SHOULDA BOUGHT A KaiShare!!!</td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-81909387669380232622012-04-09T00:14:00.013-05:002012-04-09T16:23:11.520-05:00IOWA UPDATE! PURE EXCITEMENT!!!<div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuB-756PXvOzYfTn-I97lY6UA018U26cRGD_miEcPp8bZtJwNnWfqVzrqYeOx3eWZKR_-jy_N0oSfQ-RJiPu8NSbHVAiZBm0RK9Rq09UQlx3VfwQaYm2I9Ff7Al1DaMqXlLRv93XkVN0I6/s1600/photo-19.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuB-756PXvOzYfTn-I97lY6UA018U26cRGD_miEcPp8bZtJwNnWfqVzrqYeOx3eWZKR_-jy_N0oSfQ-RJiPu8NSbHVAiZBm0RK9Rq09UQlx3VfwQaYm2I9Ff7Al1DaMqXlLRv93XkVN0I6/s320/photo-19.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nightlife!!! They call Iowa the "Miami of<br />
Middle America." Who knew?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Every now and then you just have a series where you can't get anything going. For me it's about once a year. Last year it was Chicago. This year, it's Council Bluffs. Started off this trip with a fizzle, and it's been a slow, monotonous fizzle-out ever since. No bang.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I remember the first time I ever won a tournament and one of the dealers asking me, "So are you going to Council Bluffs now?" I just looked at him quizzically. Where the hell is that, and why on Earth would I ever want to go there? </div><div><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKKHwLhZtDJtM4a9YBnN9pe2uei5fzeqS4SUGSlpfDMEVFORoxTgvLVcP7O3lvTMfxfuqqF82rfVVpCFmqId74hQM4TFsSIl9AgSIOIGezKZEQeoL6ZUHBYkJVPfpKnV3LIcgcuOYxzXg/s1600/photo-18.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKKHwLhZtDJtM4a9YBnN9pe2uei5fzeqS4SUGSlpfDMEVFORoxTgvLVcP7O3lvTMfxfuqqF82rfVVpCFmqId74hQM4TFsSIl9AgSIOIGezKZEQeoL6ZUHBYkJVPfpKnV3LIcgcuOYxzXg/s320/photo-18.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This rabble rouser speeds down the<br />
hall in Council Bluffs<br />
lookin' for trouble! Slow down! Let<br />
me get a good pic, oh elusive one!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Sure couldn't find <i>that</i> spot on a map I bet! And it didn't make any sense. In the higher order of early human tribes, they just don't go chasing the Caribou around wherever the herd goes, nomadically. The more evolved tribes learned to fence-in and herd in the animals and keep them on a farm. That way, they could have nice things like houses and farms, instead of weathered teepees and tired legs. So chasing the circuit around never made much sense. But there's a lure to the howling whistle of the circus train off to parts of the world you've never seen I suppose. No matter how mundane the spot the train stops at is. Before the circuit hits New Orelans, it goes through Iowa every March/April.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Beyond poker, people keep asking me what the people are like here in the casino. I hope my pictures in this blog paint a pretty accurate picture for you all.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But the lure (and my mistake) of smaller fields and worse players seemed to be my best shot at getting another piece of WSOP bling-bling, and I couldn't resist the idea of not being in contention for a fish-in-the barrel chipfight. Note to self: you were wrong. Somehow, the fields out here have been pretty large. In Iowa?!? I think much larger than in New Orleans. I know. I can't figure that one out either. Same great staff as always, Westside Bob, Troy the Enforcer, Boz the Shrimp, Punchdrunk Charlie and Violent Chris always run a good event.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvAbzCQTrN_wB7tRbjO79-vQP9UBiuKebuKqYISodShoaFsomB5lh_TPHelPfwYYX5pKT5UmJajDBBCDVGVVhNsR5-2NH4JxEzmXBxSbT6zAJkar7ptSPK0O37qaKvJ1pd2t3kJJyRfE-/s1600/old_folks_home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvAbzCQTrN_wB7tRbjO79-vQP9UBiuKebuKqYISodShoaFsomB5lh_TPHelPfwYYX5pKT5UmJajDBBCDVGVVhNsR5-2NH4JxEzmXBxSbT6zAJkar7ptSPK0O37qaKvJ1pd2t3kJJyRfE-/s320/old_folks_home.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Popsicles in Iowa make the unbearable springtime<br />
climates of 74 degrees somehow temperate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>There are some really good players out here. Let's call them the "sharks." Well, essentially there are two specific groups of players out here. There's the "sharks" and then there are also some really, really, really....well let's be kind. Let's just call them "Group 2." Between the two groups, I feel like I've been tied down naked with barbed wire and spun around onto a merry-go-round all week in a hailstorm of ninja stars and pus.</div><div><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R8Wl_9EIef5weJbXUEjxfeXOU3QJqB87NTmMQ7N0rVokZ4VEWkfpjI1H_6yQLWtZioLu3xHFshycpx4eT78ZCMB8IygHrKYd4MeffSix7GpHxZ6gCIFHxH2CsECpr6MQZ0_IfPgyZFg9/s1600/photo-20.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R8Wl_9EIef5weJbXUEjxfeXOU3QJqB87NTmMQ7N0rVokZ4VEWkfpjI1H_6yQLWtZioLu3xHFshycpx4eT78ZCMB8IygHrKYd4MeffSix7GpHxZ6gCIFHxH2CsECpr6MQZ0_IfPgyZFg9/s320/photo-20.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Electric carpet-speeding indoor<br />
roadsters are all the rage in Iowa!<br />
They're zippy like Luke Skywalker's <br />
land-speeder, but with wheels.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>The "Group 2" players out here seem to play poker much like a chicken plays tic-tac-toe. On meth. Everything is randomly aggressive or totally passive. They like to go all-in at totally random spots. Trying to win against them seems tantamount to having an argument with the insane. You can't win. You can only sit back and play A-B-C poker, which really puts a damper on your creativity itches. Especially when you're card dead. Then they call off their <i>entire stacks</i> pre-flop with hands like A-8, A-10, A-7, and wind up winning against your highly favored hands. I know luck is bunched, but these past two weeks have been like nothing goes right. Just two weeks? I consider myself VERY lucky. In fact in some ways, I'm still one of the luckiest people I know.</div><div><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0edKjoQzSWrz4MrJ7TTUkRC6pXxlH1vxAB-vyNsVPKebOpImY8LkwQKwaYlUh81CRq84ElNpKTCwkAHbNUzmBXvGspzvwipuA6wIa92jTZjpEtK1Lsr-iSJDEoKhHy6GVCzAdbcNM8VV/s1600/photo-21.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0edKjoQzSWrz4MrJ7TTUkRC6pXxlH1vxAB-vyNsVPKebOpImY8LkwQKwaYlUh81CRq84ElNpKTCwkAHbNUzmBXvGspzvwipuA6wIa92jTZjpEtK1Lsr-iSJDEoKhHy6GVCzAdbcNM8VV/s320/photo-21.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Potato sack races? That's child's play, bro!<br />
Out in "the Bluffs," it's all about<br />
turning that "walker" into a "runner!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCi9Ksxdj6dBrEnE8JSO26ggvW8Rqu0MUbcrSEHUhLcd_mD2b44-fJKdWCZ6CR8WX6Q1X7XFYli205tOxWrEcRsy0qpCZLX9vJDopFtKCzrthn1__Xm_Q_oMlX8Fln8T8TuR3nlSXYOiw/s1600/photo-24.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCi9Ksxdj6dBrEnE8JSO26ggvW8Rqu0MUbcrSEHUhLcd_mD2b44-fJKdWCZ6CR8WX6Q1X7XFYli205tOxWrEcRsy0qpCZLX9vJDopFtKCzrthn1__Xm_Q_oMlX8Fln8T8TuR3nlSXYOiw/s320/photo-24.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These bad asses loiter and<br />
protect their "turf." Crips? Bloods?<br />
Hell no, G! We the<br />
Shuffleboard Mafia!!<br />
Betta recognize, playah!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4rP646bDZsgI1mPupGXN3hWNGxUteUPbBu5LJtmi3Nd1TRVJDz1eqdeJ1wmEZosWyMbAYuYboAnOUtArk1gabY_f5GzycKsj2ZHHr45YsU5_kFiD80571j07sYTUg7kSSt_tgl8hyphenhyphenzDF/s1600/photo-25.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4rP646bDZsgI1mPupGXN3hWNGxUteUPbBu5LJtmi3Nd1TRVJDz1eqdeJ1wmEZosWyMbAYuYboAnOUtArk1gabY_f5GzycKsj2ZHHr45YsU5_kFiD80571j07sYTUg7kSSt_tgl8hyphenhyphenzDF/s320/photo-25.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Takes over an hour to order liver<br />
and onions, but that's just<br />
because it's so popular! <br />
TOTALLY WORTH THE WAIT!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2H8WZXUvhtcTWhwsf-exIDdAV1R6r4evFmuERU2uceqqbOznSsMBC4lyKBKV-pU6sHUL1OOMp3WrAxVoDRw-mCqN40Uh0V_TQ3so5H3VCEdvGBHIKMCMTKOdL1Tk3oa9DTy2XXtC7k9Eb/s1600/photo-28.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2H8WZXUvhtcTWhwsf-exIDdAV1R6r4evFmuERU2uceqqbOznSsMBC4lyKBKV-pU6sHUL1OOMp3WrAxVoDRw-mCqN40Uh0V_TQ3so5H3VCEdvGBHIKMCMTKOdL1Tk3oa9DTy2XXtC7k9Eb/s320/photo-28.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bobby "Sticks" McEvoy takes the lead!<br />
The crowd goes wild!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So going into day two of the Council Bluffs Main Event tomorrow with just over half an average stack doesn't bother me that much. I consider myself fortunate for even surviving yesterdays asylum snowcone shakeup. I'll need a couple of double ups within the first two levels, or I'll lose any real shot of cashing this thing. Fifteen hours back home on the road to Biloxi with Monkey's smelly feet and infected oozing facial hairs. That should be motivation enough to make day three!</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8pCGQRxuIzHhCrWedVocxU7peXy75isjooV28ZeQDd2yTqkx7B9s3RxCBjaaidxF0hwhD5UEsFXmfe59Pf-k4u97gM_gEbBOlTi5wTGMAvotg_MRXsaOEPsS-4rvjatVm8XCc3yQ8617/s1600/photo-26.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8pCGQRxuIzHhCrWedVocxU7peXy75isjooV28ZeQDd2yTqkx7B9s3RxCBjaaidxF0hwhD5UEsFXmfe59Pf-k4u97gM_gEbBOlTi5wTGMAvotg_MRXsaOEPsS-4rvjatVm8XCc3yQ8617/s320/photo-26.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haute Coture in "the Bluffs." The Michael<br />
Jackson germ-mask. "Hoooooooo!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><br />
<br />
<br />
Before I forget, big congratulations to my Mississippi boys Tim Burt and David Nicholson for chopping the PLO re-buy ring event. I know Tim was looking for his fourth "official" ring, and David for his third. But they'll just have to be content with second and third place today.<br />
<br />
Of course we're all trying to catch up with the venerable Mark Smith who set records with his FIFTH ring this year. I have to admit, I would have thought the WSOP ring record would have been higher. But then again, winning these things is incredibly hard. I'd also have to assume Tim will surpass five rings within a couple of years at the most. He's too agile and experienced in every different form of poker game out there; and the right age to pull if off. So watch your back Mark.</div><div> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq-RhifTpZW8v_m5wuOpHxQ5P4bZtXaB8YgM15NpcaJ5-rupy2C6bgA89sHwCOlmpHaeLwD99lPWVama4r7mSt386MM2MJISdgNrDN9KHpWfnZIE9F0lY6_3PnW3bT9hklxZKqJYd9UVN/s1600/photo-17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq-RhifTpZW8v_m5wuOpHxQ5P4bZtXaB8YgM15NpcaJ5-rupy2C6bgA89sHwCOlmpHaeLwD99lPWVama4r7mSt386MM2MJISdgNrDN9KHpWfnZIE9F0lY6_3PnW3bT9hklxZKqJYd9UVN/s320/photo-17.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vince Vaughn makes a celebrity appearance<br />
in Council Bluffs, Iowa, dressed for<br />
comfort and anonymity.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>In fact, it's kind of weird that I had to wait this long and travel to Iowa to pick up on one of my Mississippi buddys' crafty tricks of success. A defense mechanism of Tim and David's, when they're bluffing is to blow up -- puffer fish style -- to intimidate their opponents into folding. I caught on to this just a couple of days ago.</div><div><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ix7QuukN7UF0t8gsXJpMWdqwZsD8gFWSSmL0fWzMHQ4zcsIRcodyNSL7y3QjK9q-BWnOPyQqlJ-fCNbHyyYOTz2f1762WhgBbZjlY0JnXTnnJ8JmcAT8NwaNJKhNOMpP9Y0jYOmJ9SMo/s1600/photo-35.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ix7QuukN7UF0t8gsXJpMWdqwZsD8gFWSSmL0fWzMHQ4zcsIRcodyNSL7y3QjK9q-BWnOPyQqlJ-fCNbHyyYOTz2f1762WhgBbZjlY0JnXTnnJ8JmcAT8NwaNJKhNOMpP9Y0jYOmJ9SMo/s320/photo-35.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Nicholson usually prefers plaid,<br />
but often sports a hoodie on days when<br />
"puffing" at a big pot might be<br />
necessary.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSNHbN3iR1YtoIT5u6atf4pm9bebUei3h4g0SY6zs4eAExlvBcGV4KXOIC23PGVigmtD9ZDV1PlqGq0e41AfV2Pto2Tza4ZBV_b2-SaiOeahNwkvhN9eYwmdmDQgP1-5AuZ5o-sgFkQNt/s1600/photo-40.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSNHbN3iR1YtoIT5u6atf4pm9bebUei3h4g0SY6zs4eAExlvBcGV4KXOIC23PGVigmtD9ZDV1PlqGq0e41AfV2Pto2Tza4ZBV_b2-SaiOeahNwkvhN9eYwmdmDQgP1-5AuZ5o-sgFkQNt/s320/photo-40.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tim Burt often sports well-starched Polo<br />
shirts, but sometimes, dresses for<br />
expansion.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, basically, not much to report here from Council Bluffs. Just getting ready to go to bed and try to play my best tomorrow, despite my small stack. Not the size but how you use it? I guess I'll test that theory tomorrow. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh, well there is this one story; really an ongoing series of stories about the local gas station here called "Sapp Brothers." Monkey and I usually crash in the place right around 3 a.m., when all those living at the outer edge of society decide to get a bite to eat. Lonely truckers with voices like Wolfman Jack. Renegade truckers with zombie-like stares, and usually strapped with a knife and sporting a faraway, hopeless stare. Picture the Star Wars Cantina. But without the bouncy music. Just replace that with the scent of desparation, loneliness, and a few mumbles of stagnant conversation and dissent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLccO99pVq7YsH8QTVHJxWXeSU7XY053wah6qwaRkIQnaVAFn7aY_UMAiwA2wYsXI7EcLKRl6a8C3MnTTYWmCCH8L1SBqgTayOV4qAit4pOUSUcn5ElUO-pJb1QjNhGlnitLf5qm39JNh/s1600/photo-45.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPLccO99pVq7YsH8QTVHJxWXeSU7XY053wah6qwaRkIQnaVAFn7aY_UMAiwA2wYsXI7EcLKRl6a8C3MnTTYWmCCH8L1SBqgTayOV4qAit4pOUSUcn5ElUO-pJb1QjNhGlnitLf5qm39JNh/s320/photo-45.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staring contest!!! Aaaaaaaaand.......GO!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Sapp Brothers' gas and diner is stacked, for some reason, with an entire cornucopia of items no trucker should reasonably need or want. LOTS and lots of dolls. (Creepy!!!) Exotic Samurai swords. Fireworks. Plumbing equipment. The kinds of items that in no way go together. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64ZMfFGssZa5DgXBuNT3J-ZD2oSrAhywfs7iieQeJBO-MA34pVFBSMnhi7wXiSap_bTL15CqWSg5kN7w4Ljb8cd6dpvmXig-34VIwEvHjofmMTmx6rJM_NeAvj_zAPQ5a448Wx1EuBX0F/s1600/photo-41.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64ZMfFGssZa5DgXBuNT3J-ZD2oSrAhywfs7iieQeJBO-MA34pVFBSMnhi7wXiSap_bTL15CqWSg5kN7w4Ljb8cd6dpvmXig-34VIwEvHjofmMTmx6rJM_NeAvj_zAPQ5a448Wx1EuBX0F/s400/photo-41.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What every trucker wants. Southern Belle dolls to<br />
have a tea party with. Notice the little<br />
doll sitting all by herself in the upper left corner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So we couldn't help but notice Iowa's take on who wears what. All the little dolls looked alike. Hundreds of dolls with elegant gowns with fancy...I don't know...what do you call this stuff? Victorian era dresses? Southern antebellum ball gowns? Whatever. Well, we saw this poor little doll sitting in the back of the selection. Like the sad little Charlie Brown Christmas tree. The only one of her kind. Really, Iowa? That's how you see the world? Seriously?!?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_7DfLM-M6r3T3WTtrO_VBL-LzV5tzS-bT7IYR71nIo8Qo_2X_DbYE7uEA1bPuPwlUTn-ZrYaJZ4VOgZCNZkwR1ixSgigjVN7I71Cv3LNDhuT9aOMcsiTgzLDgJyttsg9_0kZhG4jVHGF/s1600/photo-42.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK_7DfLM-M6r3T3WTtrO_VBL-LzV5tzS-bT7IYR71nIo8Qo_2X_DbYE7uEA1bPuPwlUTn-ZrYaJZ4VOgZCNZkwR1ixSgigjVN7I71Cv3LNDhuT9aOMcsiTgzLDgJyttsg9_0kZhG4jVHGF/s320/photo-42.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosa Who?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, the dolls alone creep you out so much, you don't even notice the "lot lizard" activity going on at the diner counter or at the fill up tank. Maybe that's why they're there. As a red herring so you totally miss the horror show going on right before your eyes. Maybe that's what the Horseshoe casino needs out here. Some dolls spread throughout the casino so you don't notice the huddled masses of old people throwing away their retirement money. More tales from the scandalous "Sapp Bros." later.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All right, you insatiable jackals, that's all for now. Hope you all had a happy Easter filled with joy and...stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30tczbutrJ-VnWohhh_ED77duV-VY0kNjT2IA99rBSvqa9GYkrdBWvZq_7Lbnq3KrxOrdRhuStKogge0RBEGYVpK9oPGH4BVdDrS1iu7UnZSvUBq1xCo5I-Gaim1wHwYrKq3fASdTN2Uv/s1600/photo-46.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30tczbutrJ-VnWohhh_ED77duV-VY0kNjT2IA99rBSvqa9GYkrdBWvZq_7Lbnq3KrxOrdRhuStKogge0RBEGYVpK9oPGH4BVdDrS1iu7UnZSvUBq1xCo5I-Gaim1wHwYrKq3fASdTN2Uv/s320/photo-46.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This old person thinks he can make Michael Jackson<br />
dance moves, but totally needs some jive ass threads.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-47018470884676893422012-03-27T08:53:00.020-05:002012-03-27T13:37:53.289-05:00LET'S PUT A BOUNTY ON GOODELL.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHn4nfnDv6x77kyO8rOy-Y7RH_SONqrWGSNZba8cjkhcSwuR9g-c6RhRySEIdWvGRlI3_acGOLEIMQRFMx5OUa3L_DRWx09ym3TeXc4YL9lRtmsTCzlc7Pc1ZUVHJw-oxUSHekltRLkcj/s1600/galileo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisHn4nfnDv6x77kyO8rOy-Y7RH_SONqrWGSNZba8cjkhcSwuR9g-c6RhRySEIdWvGRlI3_acGOLEIMQRFMx5OUa3L_DRWx09ym3TeXc4YL9lRtmsTCzlc7Pc1ZUVHJw-oxUSHekltRLkcj/s320/galileo1.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1633</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The punishment hasn't fit the crime so incongruently since Galileo exposed the universe the way it really operated. </div> <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCteIhYBGoQ8tikJ5DsxrdNX4dfWXPB-W9qpIJNANRF932AvN7-TLSB2hbeQNcBYW46XHIclXh8KfxtHcwgpxW9BcWwGshjuR2m_iCqM5ON-z1h58WiWNVxYVA1OExtLMmP3QZdjr2OXo/s1600/Sean-Payton-Sad-600x397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCteIhYBGoQ8tikJ5DsxrdNX4dfWXPB-W9qpIJNANRF932AvN7-TLSB2hbeQNcBYW46XHIclXh8KfxtHcwgpxW9BcWwGshjuR2m_iCqM5ON-z1h58WiWNVxYVA1OExtLMmP3QZdjr2OXo/s320/Sean-Payton-Sad-600x397.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Coach Sean Payton, standing before Grand Inquisitor Goodell, having lost his job for a year now stands to lose upwards of $8 million dollars.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The team, the best in the NFL, <u>obliterating</u> several longstanding NFL records this year, who could only lose to <em>themselves</em> (588 turnovers vs. a scrappy San Francisco in the NFC Championship) now finds themselves stripped of their head coach for the year, GM and linebackers coach for half the year, their second round draft picks for the next two years...and the firing squad may just unload a 21-gun "salute" at the defense).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Seems pretty arbitrary doesn't it? Know why it's unprecedented? That's right. Because there's no precedent. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Only <em>arbitrary</em> punishments can be inflicted by someone with absolute power.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Journalist Tim Kowlishaw, in shock, says the penalties the NFL imposed on the Saints go <em>beyond</em> severe. <br />
<br />
Dave Zirin, a columnist who says he is "shock-raged" about the over-the-top crippling of the Saints put's Goodell's sanctimony in a clear perspective:<br />
<br />
"...But this fails the most basic of smell tests. If Goodell cared about player safety, he wouldn’t be pushing for an eighteen-game season. He wouldn’t have spent last off-season fighting the NFL Players Association on expanding health benefits or limiting “voluntary” off-season workouts. He wouldn’t be promoting Thursday-night games, which will accelerate injuries by giving players a shorter week to heal."<br />
<br />
By the end of his column, Zirin encourages Saints season ticket holders, like me, to <u>sue the NFL</u>. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
And it's not as if Sean Payton can just take his talents elsewhere this year and coach in the competing AFL this year...he can't. The NFL is a monopoly. In a way it's all the Saint's fault. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32SkaR_GS8RQVNnwHfR8Sv5Hf88ix2Id92s3CP9c_ho1EcHDA5QmDkAp6oypV2aWe2SorjCCP_isxCMfnRKvJTiHchiy3iGYaSLCsKWKeRYJeviopJ8Fu51tHnAqsB_5b0uYx_Yv9pMSN/s1600/Roger-Goodell-and-Sean-Payton_reference.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32SkaR_GS8RQVNnwHfR8Sv5Hf88ix2Id92s3CP9c_ho1EcHDA5QmDkAp6oypV2aWe2SorjCCP_isxCMfnRKvJTiHchiy3iGYaSLCsKWKeRYJeviopJ8Fu51tHnAqsB_5b0uYx_Yv9pMSN/s320/Roger-Goodell-and-Sean-Payton_reference.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BFF! OMG! LOL! XOXOXO!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Back in 1966, Louisiana wanted a professional football franchise. Badly. The NFL and AFL wanted anti trust merger exemption (read: monopoly). Pete Rozelle winked at his friends in high places. Super-powerful Louisiana Senator Hale Boggs attached the NFL-AFL antitrust exeption rider onto a bill in fellow Louisiana Senator Russel Long's Senate Finance Committee (of which he was...the Chairman). This kept the anti-merger bill out of the hands of voracious anti-trust Senator Emanuel Cellar of New York, chaiman of the Congressional Subcommittee of Anti-trust, where the matter deserved to be heard.<br />
<br />
The NFL was suddenly blessed with a monopoly.<br />
<br />
Only eleven days later, the state of Louisiana was granted an NFL franchise. Suprise! That's the way the universe works.<br />
<br />
And in doing so helped to create an all powerful football Pope to which they would be subject. Sometimes very much to their benefit (2006) sometimes to their apparant destruction (2012).<br />
<br />
Remember in 2006 when Saints owner Tom Benson confused his actual liberties of private ownership of an NFL team with someone who actully owned something real -- something you had a say so in -- confused the New Orleans Saints with someone like Terrell Owens, who just moves around whenever he wants to? When post-Katrina he wanted to high tail it to San Antonio, TX? The San Antonio Saints? Well he was told by the NFL that, no, the New Orleans Saints were not a "free agent" to move about as they wished. They were staying put. Case closed. I'm sure Benson was seated down and explained the situation. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
"Look, Tom, we can't lose viewership in the entire Gulf Coast region. That's a lot of money. we've already gotten a black eye with that whole Art Modell moving the Browns to Baltimore overnight stunt, and we can't have that again...Look, we're running an illegal monopoly, and we're trying to APPEAR ethical and full of all the American virtues they teach in school...But since we're all friends here, let's work something out. So how about if the NFL kicks in $15 million, and help with having our friends at FEMA kick in $115 million to repair your stadium at a record pace. So you take this money, STFU, stay put, and we'll get you back in business, maybe even with a good team. How about we whisper to the Houston Texans to pass on Reggie Bush with the first pick as a personal favor? He's the kind of guy that sells tickets. We did give Houston the Superbowl just a few years ago and they owe us a favor or two.<br />
<br />
For those of you who think Dallas is "America's Team," think again. FEMA paid the Superdome and the Saints huge amounts of money to stay put. I'll let those of you who are Atlanta Falcons fans take a little time to absorb that factoid. All of you Falcoholics have paid taxes to the New Orleans Saints so the NFL could retain the Gulf Coast market. From the view of taxation, their <em>your</em> team too. How's that ruffle your feathers? <br />
<br />
But something happened after 2006. The Saints didn't just get a new spit-shined multi-million dollar Superdome and become competitve. They became really, really good. Conspiracy theorists might argue that the NFL referees even helped the Saints beat the Vikings in the NFC championship to create a feel-good story. And by conspiracy theorists, I guess that means ESPN analysists. Result: a Superbowl that had the <u>greatest viewership worldwide out of any event -- ever.</u><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CRd5jkJ1dEo?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
<strong><u>View from :45.</u></strong><br />
<br />
If Brett Favre did take some illegal hits in that game, did the NFL turn a blind eye to it? Looks pretty clear to me. If the Saints were guilty in that game is there any doubt the NFL were co-conspirators?<br />
<br />
So what's the problem? The Saints became too good, and wouldn't go away. And like the Patriots, they were becomming a nuisance. With free agency, the best players gravitate towards the best teams with the best coaches and quarterbacks and avoid playing for the ugly stepsisters of the league. Let's call this the Free Agent Law of Gravity. Do you think this causes a problem for the NFL? What if on top of that, your organization has mastered the art of cherry picking pure nuggets of gold from the draft seemingly year after year after year?<br />
<br />
Back to the bounties. If they really wanted to take someone out of the game, these gigantic monsters would have done it. I'm 40 years old and 172 lbs soaking wet, and I bet if I were so inclined, I could run into Bret Favre's knees at my own personal full speed at the proper angle after a whistle had blown and cripple the guy. I guarantee I could do it. Just hit his knees directly from the side. Did Kurt Warner get the ever living snot licked out of him? Yep! Were all these hits legal? Very.<br />
<br />
The NFL apparantly has the means and the motive in the prosecution, but they're missing something crucial.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwebb727baK31F-9OKsG1CltQp4VlRQe8L0nG2r_JpjJF1lBAldRxaZVj69nwX7xOW3Rsr7-9Ld8dvomqHGcKqqBnpWD-TT1jYSAvyDGGd65cB138HfqXAoAwiA-lQGMIuj5XBsIyiDdzC/s1600/3706-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwebb727baK31F-9OKsG1CltQp4VlRQe8L0nG2r_JpjJF1lBAldRxaZVj69nwX7xOW3Rsr7-9Ld8dvomqHGcKqqBnpWD-TT1jYSAvyDGGd65cB138HfqXAoAwiA-lQGMIuj5XBsIyiDdzC/s320/3706-1.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BFF! OMG! LOL! XOXOXO!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There's no body. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">No one went out on a stretcher -- on a hit that was illegal in this game. In these three inquisitioned years.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Again, give me $10.000, Jonathan Vilma, and I will show you how to destroy Bret Favre's knees when he's not looking. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
<div>Do you remember the Tonya Harding --Nancy Kerrigan tragedy from way back in 1994? The infamously homely and ill-proportioned Tonya Harding couldn't compete with the much more talented and relatively cute Nancy Kerrigan on the ice and had her boyfriend break her kneecap with a lead pipe. Now THERE'S an ACTUAL COMPLETE CASE with means/motive/illegal hit/broken kneecap/body on a stretcher complete case <strong>easy</strong> to prosecute! <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPF6SewjjiiNf7zvDI7-fIawe1m3qGMq_bWT46n8gecDuRyYBkduNScjVzDdArZ-i7mqWVTiUQdRuMaviTL_2jAauZ-ELTfFBYzHKilxwjcWrfxxdC7k6jb5z4b4k_58u7QSXb1VfiZ11Z/s1600/19940124-750-57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPF6SewjjiiNf7zvDI7-fIawe1m3qGMq_bWT46n8gecDuRyYBkduNScjVzDdArZ-i7mqWVTiUQdRuMaviTL_2jAauZ-ELTfFBYzHKilxwjcWrfxxdC7k6jb5z4b4k_58u7QSXb1VfiZ11Z/s320/19940124-750-57.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The way any good bounty is SUPPOSED to work.<br />
Nancy Kerrigan, 1994.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">You mean to tell me 27 absolute physical beasts of men under the direction of a supposedly bloodthirsty defensive coach couldn't do IN THREE YEARS, IN FIFTY-FOUR GAMES, to one kneecap/ trachea/ neck/ spine what Tonya Harding's boyfriend did properly in one afternoon? Take somebody out in a stretcher with an illegal hit? The Saints clearly had the twenty-seven WORST HIT MEN EVER in the history of the world. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If "300" was an action film about how three hundred Spartans slaughtered and defeated 100,000 Persians, maybe Hollywood could make a comedy called "27."<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If anything, the NFL should grant the Saints an additional first round pick as their "punishment." Maybe they can draft someone who knows how to properly send someone out in a stretcher. Or they can hire Roger Goodell as a consultant for the other teams as to how to continually send players with concussions back<em> into</em> games. Roger Goodell handing down sentences for someone violating player saftey is akin to a ku klux klansman representing someone in a Civil Rights dispute.<br />
<br />
</div>At it's very worst, the NFL has a case against the Saints of a conspiracy of poor behavior and locker room bravado with unwilling conspirators who really knew better and refused to actually do the truly unthinkable. Money got passed around, tough guys talked tough, the culture inside the locker room behaved like a culture inside a locker room...but it looks like at the end of the day, the culture on the field stayed pretty damn much within the fair lines of play! For three years! Yes, some people took a few really hard hits. Occasionally they looked Baltimore Ravens scary. Your point?<br />
<br />
Mr. Goodell, your culture of nasty, legal, viscious hits was already well grandfathered in. It would take someone with a concussion not to remember this. You can't go back and punish what you've instituted. But I understand...you found the technicality...the money that exchanged hands as a reward. Percentage wise, for what these the world's most physically imposing helmeted millionaires on the planet make, it would be tantamount to my employer offering me a $2 Best Buy gift card to beat the crap out of one of our competitors. I too would talk smack, and take the gift card, but I wouldn't really do it.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The commissioner of the NFL has the power to make or break a franchise. With the New Orleans Saints, he will be the first commissioner of any sport, ever, to do both. And all within six years.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Remember when the NFL stepped in a couple of years ago ordering T-shirt shops to stop selling "Who Dat?" shirts because they felt they "owned" the phrase "Who Dat?" I wonder if they'll have the <em>huevos</em> to issue the same cease-and-desist order to local t-shirt makers who are now profitting selling "Free Sean Payton" t-shirts, with the much more honest plea that they OWN Sean Payton. They do. They actually <em>own</em> him.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8XU1s9mfvRJqVZ1uCzHkE0pQrRlrXfUtTYAM8MZuBs1EvyBLkbMRopE6WCzoip7PJWWR4GBx3ya1VKPWU3LV5eFzyuBh07MDjQNIeNigr0deaXPaWB_lxdruaG5CNkdUqBgZ7324zlTXK/s1600/529497_10150685745209349_84239509348_9162147_288128139_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8XU1s9mfvRJqVZ1uCzHkE0pQrRlrXfUtTYAM8MZuBs1EvyBLkbMRopE6WCzoip7PJWWR4GBx3ya1VKPWU3LV5eFzyuBh07MDjQNIeNigr0deaXPaWB_lxdruaG5CNkdUqBgZ7324zlTXK/s1600/529497_10150685745209349_84239509348_9162147_288128139_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And "Free beer tomorrow!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So let's say the NFL's side of the story is true and their auto-de-fe' of Sean Payton is 100% accurate. Is it not self-implicating enough that the NFL quietly asked the Saints after 2009 to stop it? No penalties then. Then quietly again after 2010? No penalties then either. Then finally after 2011 they step in. Why?<br />
<br />
Do you really think the Saints were the only ones rewarding players for "big hits" or fumble recoveries?<br />
<br />
Do you really think Bill Belichick of the Patriots dynasty was the only one spying on another team in the NFL?<br />
<br />
Let's put it this way. Nobody cares if the Browns spied on the Bengals anytime in the last three decades. Not even the Bengals.<br />
<br />
This whole punishment is all about TWO THINGS. The one thing Roger Goodell can control -- <u>money</u>, and the one thing he absolutley cannot -- <u>lack of parity in the NFL</u>. I'll guarantee you the phrase "Free agency ruined the game" originated in the NFL headquarters in New York. Free agency and the desire for winners to play on winning teams with winning coaches create superteams; eventual dynasties that generally turn off the rest of the public and their hard earned money. Everyone wants to play pitch and catch with Brees or Brady. And Belichick and Peyton. The homely, ill-proportioned Tonya Hardings of the league? Not so much...<br />
<br />
The way the rules are written now, your Jacksonvilles and St. Louises have no chance in this league. And it's a league that yearns ideally to fill all thirty-two markets as close to full stadium capacity as possible. In Roger Goodells ideal make-believe universe, he has thirty-two teams all going in to the final game of the season with records right around 7-9, 8-8, and 9-7. Maximum viewership. Maximum ticket sales. Maximum profit.<br />
<br />
There's also the rumor that the NFL does not want the Saints to be in the Superbowl (hosted in New Orleans this year) because it would stand to lose a lot of money. A lot.<br />
<br />
If the Saints were guilty of anything they were GUILTY of not following advice from cult hero, former Louisiana governor from the 1950's Earl Long. Earl's advice on staying out of trouble?<br />
<br />
"Don't write down anything you can phone. Don't phone anything you can talk. Don't talk anything you can whisper. Don't whisper anything you can smile. Don't smile anything you can nod. Don't nod anything you can wink."<br />
<br />
Brothers Huey and Earl survived all their inquisitions.<br />
<br />
Apparently, the NFL has enough people talking and enough information that was written down. They don't need an actual body to prosecute, apparantly. And it only took 50,000 documents.<br />
<br />
And as I'm writing this...I'm thinking...surely...surely someone in the NFL front office must have heard an internal affairs report that was whispered in their own headquarters. About how to maximize profit.<br />
<br />
Or maybe enen talked about.<br />
<br />
Hopefully phoned and recorded.<br />
<br />
Ideally a clandestine financial report that was written and you have copies of on why the best bottom line for the league would be to cripple the Saints (or earlier on, the Pats). To artificially induce some parity by sanctioning from time to time your two best teams. One in the AFC, one in the NFC.<br />
<br />
Did your employers in the league headquarters specifically target the Saints and Patriots, the obvious perennial juggernauts in each division to assist with creating parity in the league -- a goal which cannot be attained under the current legal system of free agency -- with it's Free Agent Law of Gravity? Was there a goal to equilize the records of all teams as much as possible by only investigating possible dynasties...with the goal of maximizing profit for the league?<br />
<br />
Did the NFL try to keep the Saints out of this year's Superbowl held in New Orleans because research showed the NFL would lose a boatload of money if this were to happen?<br />
<br />
If you work in the NFL head office...let me know! Snitch! Give us these documents. I want Goodell hit hard. If your documents lead to a winning investigation against Roger Goodell should a lawsuit come about that Saints season ticket holders win, I'll kick in $1,500 to the pot.</div></div></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wjllhIL3v8Nucj1vdg7FP6Jz6dGTRx0p4rxmXmdLYDxlplZXryIatw5MIC5KZq1Ku_OA7pMwCSdwTBNmPZfOvG2c7F3DGIMN7RGuqgJTi7QJKXyGavjBkge1r_pyuA2MI5MXEULRWrrC/s1600/553789_3483109998406_1312551983_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wjllhIL3v8Nucj1vdg7FP6Jz6dGTRx0p4rxmXmdLYDxlplZXryIatw5MIC5KZq1Ku_OA7pMwCSdwTBNmPZfOvG2c7F3DGIMN7RGuqgJTi7QJKXyGavjBkge1r_pyuA2MI5MXEULRWrrC/s320/553789_3483109998406_1312551983_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
</div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0925417688&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0451233379&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=1414339437&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-48225847880494006252012-03-26T23:32:00.010-05:002012-03-27T10:21:20.018-05:0040It's one of those trite, played out cliches from the movies. The coach going into the locker room of the downtrodden team at halftime, telling the team that "Nothing matters less than the score at halftime! Nothing!" <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I guess that's got some merit to it...but it's human nature for us all to <em>measure</em> everything isn't it? Maybe more so for guys. The competitive streak. All the measuring.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To take stock of where we've been, what we've learned...and -- well, the "score" at halftime.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To compare ourselves to others, to measure our wallets, our friends, the richness of all our experiences? The number of friends, the distances of our travels, the things we've acomplished... Am I where I wanted to be by this point in my life? <br />
<br />
So I hit a milestone birthday a few days ago (lie: this is another <em>late</em> blog) in a very DELIBERATE, non-descript, quiet ceremony. Good way to hit middle age.<br />
<br />
Thanks again to everyone out there for not throwing me a surprise birthday party for the 40th year in a row. A**holes. Could I have dropped any more hints?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So...um...yeah... middle age.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And you know what? It's not so bad! I don't feel forty, and on a maturity level I'm not a day past twenty-five!</div> <br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrzGDwmova_ygWB_yo3SykCLKCyxVA5pd56W4au8711S8zZMbDK-hJJ9eewzR3_my5tPfV4pvpRd7BliXitF_xhxbJl8REiW1TTRwwzGb6Qsk_k3dGehKcwnXiPcjYaLdSDk6zTTCCIK1/s1600/k40.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrzGDwmova_ygWB_yo3SykCLKCyxVA5pd56W4au8711S8zZMbDK-hJJ9eewzR3_my5tPfV4pvpRd7BliXitF_xhxbJl8REiW1TTRwwzGb6Qsk_k3dGehKcwnXiPcjYaLdSDk6zTTCCIK1/s320/k40.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Dork-boy at 40.<br />
Photo cred: the Nororious BNC</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Which is pretty nice considering I can recall how very depressed I was about turning thirty a decade ago. That odd insufferable rut of depression that lasted a month.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So while I'm in a measuring mood, the past few years has given me more volitile peaks and valleys than I ever thought possible in my otherwise ordinary life. Had lots of amazing things happen. Had a lot of truly awful things happen. Lost a lot of people in my life. Crucial people. The ones you can't replace. </div><br />
Really big highs and really big lows leading up to this halfway point. <br />
<br />
Lessons learned? Lots. Hope I'm the wiser for all my mistakes. I really do.<br />
<br />
But come to think of it, this might not be my halftime pep-talk at all. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I've had a sister that died at 50. Another amazing sister died just recently at 52. My dad died at 60 and my mom just over a year ago at 63. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So I've got a good idea on what Vegas's "line" on my own personal over/under is for my personal return to quiet-time inside the Earth. Mississippi has the lowest life expectancy of all the states, and it looks like if I were a betting man, I'd STILL have to take the "under" on that number when it comes to myself. It just looks like things are lined up that way genetically.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMUGFaxzWFgIXY5S1OoxzRgY2xM591NqJgZwWGZT-64y6pcNvAitPHF9mRUAJvW9Ar-jOU_efFDiqC47qP6FG6jdqNk1l_PAekG3GRkYrFBoQf8yAyVr25x3e8tRTwzz2LHhPhQJlv2qw/s1600/383279_2569948285831_1167958753_32183169_1128756438_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMUGFaxzWFgIXY5S1OoxzRgY2xM591NqJgZwWGZT-64y6pcNvAitPHF9mRUAJvW9Ar-jOU_efFDiqC47qP6FG6jdqNk1l_PAekG3GRkYrFBoQf8yAyVr25x3e8tRTwzz2LHhPhQJlv2qw/s1600/383279_2569948285831_1167958753_32183169_1128756438_n.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
So instead of a halftime speech, this may be my own third quarter commentary leading into...well, let's hope its a hell of an exciting fourth quarter! Hey, I'm not too thrilled about it, but on the flip side, I don't feel compelled to save for retirement. You gotta play the odds you know. Besides, if I do accidentally live to a ripe old age, social security will always be there to take care of me, right?!*<br />
<br />
I did <em>think </em>about marking the occasion with my first tattoo. There's an activity that screams mid-life crisis, huh?! I've always shied away from tattoos because I could never think of any one design I'd never get tired of. But I did consider getting that recycle symbol put on my butt with "Organ Donor" written underneath it. Pretty responsible, and it would have been a good giggle for the undertaker; not to mention a good cause which I'm very fond of. We're all just made of parts and we should be willing to give these parts to whomever needs them once we're done with them. <br />
<br />
The local place I considered here in South Mississippi has a picture of a young Brett Favre getting a tattoo on his butt. Ever wanted to know what's tattooed on Brett Favre's bottom by the way? The correct answer: a leprechan chugging a beer. It's true. Bet you could have gone without knowing that. Try removing that thought. How's that workin' out for you?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CRs7fuwAKC76GgbSefjBP6xpm3WINaFwI1UGpqy5qN0SuS2PSjtrS-oa8miv5ejGi2wEPxANvSAfxTSG02CtC61FXBiNimrD08AhtyiHe56hL6kz_I4ID1GBkjT7HEedD9Ez34Sv413j/s1600/irish-character-leprechaun-chugging-beer-108227101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CRs7fuwAKC76GgbSefjBP6xpm3WINaFwI1UGpqy5qN0SuS2PSjtrS-oa8miv5ejGi2wEPxANvSAfxTSG02CtC61FXBiNimrD08AhtyiHe56hL6kz_I4ID1GBkjT7HEedD9Ez34Sv413j/s320/irish-character-leprechaun-chugging-beer-108227101.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There he is! Right next to the bounty on his ass! Get him!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Now the reason I decided not to get my first tattoo to mark the halfway point occasion is because, as some of you know, I have daughters. And at some point, many years down the line, they're going to want to get a tattoo. So when they approach me with this very impassioned everybody-else-is-doing-it plea, I'll tell them that that's actually <strong>great </strong>idea and that I'll go along with them to get my first one too! This idea of their wrinkly old bastard father getting a tattoo should mortify them just as much as the idea of my daughters getting a tattoo horrifies me. I call this reverse-psychological trick "tattoo leverage," and look forward to springing that mind game on them in another decade or so. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUce2ipY7VVs7iRRZEeMzhEcNsygPbjqOyPxDJOLAfdgVjhHmeOdGXsRxRWVfxlpBorfoEx9Vv5v9psjz3RLWIFMyUOKpGyo-em_ppt2rlHILYTFITIWCaBxuBhbQjP8m4gXNgJVNv8D5f/s1600/patrick-swayze_1392150i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUce2ipY7VVs7iRRZEeMzhEcNsygPbjqOyPxDJOLAfdgVjhHmeOdGXsRxRWVfxlpBorfoEx9Vv5v9psjz3RLWIFMyUOKpGyo-em_ppt2rlHILYTFITIWCaBxuBhbQjP8m4gXNgJVNv8D5f/s320/patrick-swayze_1392150i.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Patrick Swayze Chippendale/ Minotaur/ Rainbow calf tattoo. A popular choice as well. Daddy's gonna get this on his calf! C'mon! Let's go!! Wait...why aren't you coming? You changed your mind? Really? Awwwww! That's a shame!</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, back to my actual birthday. Here's how it went down on the actual MINUTE I turned forty that morning.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
I'm driving three miles an hour outside of my kids' school. I drive slower than any other parent because I have a fear of not being able to see a kid and hitting him/her. That's about the speed at which I crept through the stop sign everyone ignores, because there is really never any imminent danger or traffic <em>anywhere</em>.<br />
<br />
Captain Safety (pictured below), and I don't think I'm prone to hyperbole, was zooming into the adjacent police station at about 735 mph and attempts to cross over my lane on two wheels, Dukes of Hazard style. In a flash he ignites his super high strength police lights at me and blares his siren. Great.</div> <br />
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<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8Gtz_LOx7njV2TX9sU-MD-HeXYS05YI6p5c_YlkljN0pQGm31LyLCGyk7VsbstNaBfcdCFaxOkUzFpd3Rkqof70JxJDclq1aqe1yhSrPatjM6j23vBIAk3dDWwN2WUAgiY86oSDgTKKQ/s1600/cop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8Gtz_LOx7njV2TX9sU-MD-HeXYS05YI6p5c_YlkljN0pQGm31LyLCGyk7VsbstNaBfcdCFaxOkUzFpd3Rkqof70JxJDclq1aqe1yhSrPatjM6j23vBIAk3dDWwN2WUAgiY86oSDgTKKQ/s320/cop.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">"F...................e...................b...............r..............u....................a.............................<br />
45 minutes later, I'd get my ticket. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>" <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyuXn1WG-XT6w52zRQb0ZFje9vx_K7bW4LbxzmuhtTtPPVCquf4FiNtQQhyTrh_XgUf75M-Aj3YRmp7o9653vT5GnEHsW-urkqzPy5fPYA61WZfXDnoPpIiZ7pXrVTm60zOoo9wimXkIPt/s1600/duggan_hacksaw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyuXn1WG-XT6w52zRQb0ZFje9vx_K7bW4LbxzmuhtTtPPVCquf4FiNtQQhyTrh_XgUf75M-Aj3YRmp7o9653vT5GnEHsW-urkqzPy5fPYA61WZfXDnoPpIiZ7pXrVTm60zOoo9wimXkIPt/s1600/duggan_hacksaw.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...at birth?</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MxHMlXSOb4rezn8eUGwJZ4FyqRd3k-pAR9ErEifY_FqG479Y79Of0mzB5T8Soi8Yg5plSkc5nwkc6O2bPrEHpy9MqswWxXB3PzeRpXRwAqgTvbn0sn4TIGkOzPVD4HLr7_-zOwyzNozx/s1600/cop2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-MxHMlXSOb4rezn8eUGwJZ4FyqRd3k-pAR9ErEifY_FqG479Y79Of0mzB5T8Soi8Yg5plSkc5nwkc6O2bPrEHpy9MqswWxXB3PzeRpXRwAqgTvbn0sn4TIGkOzPVD4HLr7_-zOwyzNozx/s320/cop2.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Separated...</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I was still just waking up so I'm sure my total lack of early morning smooth talking got me nowhere. Up until now in the new vehicle, I've gone 6-0 against the po-po, having diplomatically dodged six tickets by getting a personalized license plate from the NRA. Cost? $35/year. Why did I choose an NRA license plate? Well, it's no secret that every police officer is a gun freak and has a 90% chance of being a member of the NRA. When they see the plate, they associate with you immediately, and assume you're a pretty good guy. Also, when they ask you if there are any guns in the vehicle, it gives you a chance to talk a bit with them and divert the subject of your infraction you've just been pulled over for. Result: no ticket. I've blown more stop signs, red lights and speeding ordinances in several states and gotten away with it because of my special plate. The way I see it, if it were prorated, I'm probably really paying only $0.02 for every time I've blatently broken the law in so many states since getting this one ticket. Not to mention the plate in your driveway sends out a clear message to potential burglars: You might prefer trying to rob my neighbor instead. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
But apparantly with Captain Saftey here, my Jedi mind trick was an epic fail. He burst out of the car, lept into the air and over his truck's hood, sliding down it dramatically with a pen in one hand and ticket pad in the other. For a second, I thought I heard theme music. The NRA license had no effect. My birthday on my driver's license had no effect. My polite explanation fell on deaf ears. Maybe, just maybe the only thing on my car that would have changed his mind would be a bumper sticker that said, "I F*CKING LOVE SKOAL CHEWING TOBACCO. IT IS AWESOME!!!"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Seriously, if I can tell from twenty-five yards away that you're chewing tobacco, you have a serious problem. Officer, that wad in your mouth (see picture #2) looks about as thick as a 16 oz. sirloin steak, but, hey, it's your preriodontal concern, not mine. And, yeah, I realize I'm appearing now to be a "tough guy hiding behind a computer screen writing this." But just let me say there's something ironic about getting a $185 ticket from a cop who's obviously more buzzed than a space monkey. Why doesn't he just crack open a Pabst Blue Ribbon while he's in his comfort zone? Lawnchair? I mean how many government employees get to chew tobacco on the clock? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">What would <em>your</em> reaction be if you went to your surgical appointment and your doctor was spitting a wad into a plastic cup? How about your chef? Or your insurance agent? Would you take them seriously? Can you think of any profession where chewing tobacco should be considered ok? Ok, baseball. So...he should wear cleats next time he writes a ticket I guess.<br />
<br />
He slaps the ticket in my hand and tells me to have a good morning. It really felt like, "welcome to the age of defeat." But that feeling...went away. And out of pure stubbornness, enjoyed the hell out of the rest of my day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So how am I doing? What's the measuring stick say? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well I'm nowhere close to retired yet, but I'm not quite a drooling ward of the state. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not quite satisfied with where I've been, but excited about where I'm headed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not doing as good as the guy with the greener grass on the other side of the hill, but I'm<em> not concerned at all with him</em> either!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just somewhere in the middle. No need to measure; just happy to be here. So what else matters? :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And finally ready to start playing a full series of tournaments again. As the ignominious Chad Burns would say...<u>IOWA</u>nt to play Texas Hold 'em!!!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">See ya soon in Cedar Rapids, tough guy!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Being thrity-nine isn't so bad after all!!!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6fTkRglW-Zt9DIYL9QFLDl-iZSeJh6hI47gOwfOdvNgdiKEwV7OZFNNOPWQpEpy7-hsMSUnCjMNMx_kkPf19Kq2KvDBS3N4LwjjdT9p3qrKQy-IividwGCFS5EM1zzLtIRmmb82_gYVD/s1600/paris_kissing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6fTkRglW-Zt9DIYL9QFLDl-iZSeJh6hI47gOwfOdvNgdiKEwV7OZFNNOPWQpEpy7-hsMSUnCjMNMx_kkPf19Kq2KvDBS3N4LwjjdT9p3qrKQy-IividwGCFS5EM1zzLtIRmmb82_gYVD/s320/paris_kissing.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And when you turn 89, you get to make out with Paris Hilton! Can't wait!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">*Research shows that by 2037, the Social Security trust fund will be entirely depleted. If you're forty or younger and reading this today, you are 100% screwed. Also, your entire country will be insolvent. But thank you for contributing payments all your life to the world's greatest pyramid scheme! The US government kinda makes Bernie Madoff look like an insignifigant Bourbon Street Three Card Monte hustler, doesn't it?</div><br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B000GG6FN4&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B001FWXSAG&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B000FFBMFM&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B000CSWBYI&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=1936251094&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=1932603166&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="width:120px;height:240px;" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B0024825Y0&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="width:120px;height:240px;" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=s0b774-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B003YITRZY&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="width:120px;height:240px;" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-63971458941456631902012-03-25T05:29:00.007-05:002012-03-27T10:31:26.775-05:00HOT TUB TIME MACHINE (2012)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 12px;">FALSE MAYAN APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN 44 SUNDAYS LEFT. Sun Jan 22, 2012 </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 12px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 12px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fear doesn't hit you all at once. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIq0-DmtsFn81mSPlD9rliHQy4GYfUoHOW8YwWDjRMpTw-qXjMKoUpgBCyUKn86fhUUzsCrwpabcAssi7Y-sp8RhgbZ7NODzzS9HCn5OnW6sw9hvOkBIyqu3qyww0m01OA3xtCn1fYac8/s1600/denver-airport-mural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIq0-DmtsFn81mSPlD9rliHQy4GYfUoHOW8YwWDjRMpTw-qXjMKoUpgBCyUKn86fhUUzsCrwpabcAssi7Y-sp8RhgbZ7NODzzS9HCn5OnW6sw9hvOkBIyqu3qyww0m01OA3xtCn1fYac8/s400/denver-airport-mural.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fear. Welcome to Denver. Read on.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You don't just wake up one morning in fetal position sobbing and twisting the sheets into little knots as you pull the covers over your precious little head and hide from the world.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fear creeps up on you...incrementally. You'll never notice it. You get caught up doing and saying the same things everyone else says and does. Conforming to your surroundings. Using words like "concerned about," "bothered by," "stressed out," or "worried." </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And it's hard -- not speaking in the same weak language everyone else does. There aren't even too many surroundings out there worth confirming to and behaving like everyone else. Ever walk into a poker room and say to yourself, "My God, I want to be just like these people. And think like they think. And have the same goals and lives these people have." </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The players in the room you go into are not exactly the players in the advertisements. </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhzHf3M5e09IO0RRbHBxGqEEHPw2q2jP9UT-Hp7ACod8sVxAyHIQ1brR2SDCLh_TFIrKMMybq0yoGfpdar8CfPKEw5CYu7sP6iEI0QLKSlPwkGmC0p-7fwXTtbn4XJq8YyHZ5RdZWIIeP/s1600/poker-room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhzHf3M5e09IO0RRbHBxGqEEHPw2q2jP9UT-Hp7ACod8sVxAyHIQ1brR2SDCLh_TFIrKMMybq0yoGfpdar8CfPKEw5CYu7sP6iEI0QLKSlPwkGmC0p-7fwXTtbn4XJq8YyHZ5RdZWIIeP/s320/poker-room.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the land of Make Believe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now in the poker room, like in any other petri dish, there's the few who go in with goals, totally immune from the negative fog inhaled and exhaled by the rabble. And for a little while, although I haven't been playing much <i>at all</i> lately , whenever I did, I felt like I was conforming to the surroundings. Using the same language, making the same standard plays, being result-oriented instead of correct-play oriented. Playing "concerned" or "worried." Fear creeps into your life slowly and unnoticed...little concerns...</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>So sometime a few months back, my friend John O'Connor pitched out one of his favorite activities to me. Late January. Early February. Skiing. Colorado.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>The first thing that came to my mind: Oh, hell no. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I hate the cold. I have an unnatural fear of it. Some people are afraid of snakes, drowning, rabid cockroaches...whatever. I hate the cold and have a fear of dying in it. Normal? Nope. <br />
<br />
Go skiing? No way. Skiing is an <i>idiotic</i> activity for x-treme sports suicidal twenty-somethings who go at it hard and elitist white collar country club snobs who slide around gingerly and delicately on the powder, trying not to break a sweat. There's no middle ground, it's socially lame, and playing slip-and-slide in 10 degree weather sounds like an activity for penguins in an episode that would make anyone switch off Animal Planet and turn to quilting documentaries on PBS. Skiing -- bah! Not to mention flying. I hate flying.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But his pitch for the trip was uniqie. O'Connor, also known around these parts as "Mr. Intensity," explained his little annual quest this way to me. (Intense stare) "You see, skiing is all about controlling your fear! You get on those slopes and you start going so fast you think to yourself, there's no way I can control this. But when you learn how to come to a stop, and control your speed, you conquer your fear. It's all about not being scared to death of losing control."</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hmmm. Interesting. I think one of the reasons I HATE flying and am so uncomfortable is because I'm not in the pilot's seat. Totally irrational. I think we all know who should be flying the plane, and it's not me. Totally irrational.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3IKFjb6btmxUxJ8bxvBMk0nlBT5IDA23pJ8-uup20TaXjvhbfJCG7lcDEJiTxeUYMqFp-TKXYkCifxYzIW-TQ2lItDc_Y5PlfXP_QC2L1v-u5beg2ek7GMmrPJc977aiWWr75CsylbB4/s1600/rob_corddry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3IKFjb6btmxUxJ8bxvBMk0nlBT5IDA23pJ8-uup20TaXjvhbfJCG7lcDEJiTxeUYMqFp-TKXYkCifxYzIW-TQ2lItDc_Y5PlfXP_QC2L1v-u5beg2ek7GMmrPJc977aiWWr75CsylbB4/s320/rob_corddry.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinks heavily; founded "Loogle." Says he's not O'Connor</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div>So I thought it through a few times. Why not spend money you can't really afford to be spending right now on something you'd really hate doing? Sounds perfect! Actually, I think the real selling point was that O'Connor is a dead ringer for Rob Corddry (Lou) in <u>Hot Tub Time Machine </u>-- the skiing comedy about transporting back to the 80s, and I assumed I'd get some favored treatment as everyone in Colorado was sure to mistake O'Connor for "Lou." And who wouldn't want to live out that movie?</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBssSaWsMDsEnheOpJKGY9vl6oKoYffdsE9odl08I9Mt7jKEQgi2Ff8vQxwIfJFQkeqKyRvIx6RPWLx_2AZLx_vQ0qKlcwqN-IZjEq4fJB13cQuQwdmMg7SFACpB87du9MA604LcOQ8dL5/s1600/ocon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBssSaWsMDsEnheOpJKGY9vl6oKoYffdsE9odl08I9Mt7jKEQgi2Ff8vQxwIfJFQkeqKyRvIx6RPWLx_2AZLx_vQ0qKlcwqN-IZjEq4fJB13cQuQwdmMg7SFACpB87du9MA604LcOQ8dL5/s320/ocon.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinks heavily, founded intensity, says he's not Rob Corddry</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div>Unfortunately, after training hard for two months (lots of squats and cardio), Jan 28 would be met with one of the most horrible throat/ear infections I'd ever have. Takeoff from New Orleans in a few hours. I can barely move anything</div><div><br />
</div><div>On the airplane I noticed something: I was so miserable with my awful cold, my flying-nerves didn't exist at all? Why? I was so miserable I didn't have time to imagine the plane was going to fall out of the sky every fifteen seconds. Everything's mental; <i>it's all in your head</i>...and it's funny how misery made me mentally more comfortable on the flight. If your focus is on your pain, you can't focus on irrational fears.<br />
<br />
So we arrive in Denver and are greeted in baggage claim by the most disturbing of all murals ( see the first picture in this blog -- yes -- it <i>actually </i>exists there close to the baggage claim/ ticketing area). The Denver International Airport New World Order spooky ass artwork. For more reading about the worlds creepiest airport/ possible internment camp/ underground death camp/ survival bunker Google "Denver Airport New World Order Conspiracy." Enjoy the show. ***THE MORE YOU KNOW RAINBOW***</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSVL0_y6NY73mHKJKFNI5j3NX-A-XZm2gpe4sPX2LOp00ves9g7qwWFeliO-fuUFUdJCS51xiaiQVcubj_ziNFh3wXmgfa73XogNqs5ljbPyiaZ-TQBwP1J-_9_3owAmyQYLQd0Fc1VaS/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSVL0_y6NY73mHKJKFNI5j3NX-A-XZm2gpe4sPX2LOp00ves9g7qwWFeliO-fuUFUdJCS51xiaiQVcubj_ziNFh3wXmgfa73XogNqs5ljbPyiaZ-TQBwP1J-_9_3owAmyQYLQd0Fc1VaS/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I shoulda had a V-8!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div>The most noticibly irritating of all the Masonic warnings is the sculpture of a gargoyle popping out of a suitcase. The "official" explanation is that gargoyles are for "good luck" in getting your luggage. I wonder how the TSA officers would react if I had built a Jack-In-the-Box style ten-foot tall gargoyle that would pop out of my suitcase with rapid-spring action as they inspected it? While I'm wearing a gas mask? I'd say that would put us all at around Terror Alert Orange. Don't conform to your surroundings...</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUtjvYzqpP3b_ojHygILEoyQ6Zruu4YsT7DheQInRSmPM4HBV35HhQzhZ6wqJ8fU5eD-BC09XKepKx1AKEnF0BELUfRYKHvThbxh4Ja6jb1eoVEK9ytWeVpumT4hYNqZ5-mMBJ9_1Jne9/s1600/garg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUtjvYzqpP3b_ojHygILEoyQ6Zruu4YsT7DheQInRSmPM4HBV35HhQzhZ6wqJ8fU5eD-BC09XKepKx1AKEnF0BELUfRYKHvThbxh4Ja6jb1eoVEK9ytWeVpumT4hYNqZ5-mMBJ9_1Jne9/s320/garg.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every 'goyle needs a nice bag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">So we leave the airport and I can't even speak anymore...my voice is totally gone, and as far as colds go, this is one of the worst one's I've ever had. Now lets add to that cold -- freezing temperatures, very low oxygen at that altitude, and a lack of appetite that comes from that altitude. Pretty good ways to deal with being sick, huh?! Oh, and no health insurance. I rule.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We get to the room, which I don't even remember, thanks to fistfulls of Nyquil. Then, true to <u>Hot Tub Time Machine</u> form, while I slept, O'Connor must have gone in the hot tub and produced a version of himself -- a miniature duplication. </div><br />
<br />
</div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5F_00WB7NgixCfSstV_1gbplWUGobMz-RDCS1OADYezro5hoRtZwfViupu5-u86SeEdhi9ciSxInofKeuOtFINVih4BaJ0G3HwWktZ6RA4_9f76Vv2x6yUVuWmU9xeW6npLr3JzSQVPc/s1600/fran.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5F_00WB7NgixCfSstV_1gbplWUGobMz-RDCS1OADYezro5hoRtZwfViupu5-u86SeEdhi9ciSxInofKeuOtFINVih4BaJ0G3HwWktZ6RA4_9f76Vv2x6yUVuWmU9xeW6npLr3JzSQVPc/s320/fran.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even does that same weird finger thing...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So even though I felt like absolute death, I went to my first lesson for all the first day. After O'Connor would tutor me on the slopes for the next couple of hours, we felt I might be able to take a "green level" (non-beginner) slope all the way down from the top of Beaver Creek Mountain. And although I felt absolutely horrible, like my muscles couldn't even move at all with that cold, something told me to keep going. I actually came to accept the fact that I may overexert myself into pneumonia, but just to do it anyway. I was kind of hellbent not to give up on this trip of pain, which I had planned and worked out for for two months!</div><div><br />
</div><div> From the top of the mountain (11,440 ft.) down to the base camp (8,100 ft.) The entire ski trip down would take over an hour and I'd wind up with about seventeen "yard sales" -- crashes so bad the trail of your clothes and equipment behind you look like you've thrown a yard sale.<br />
<br />
"Skriinnnnntt" goes something in my neck. Then I hurt some weird spot in my thumb in a crash later. Then my hamstring felt plucked apart and torn in the next unwanted high speed stop.<br />
<br />
<br />
About this time Coach O'Connor is getting on my nerves. He's yelling at someone who's crashed a healthy seventeen times (me) about how I'm doing things wrong. Imagine Yoda if he were really, really pissed off at Luke Skywalker...and kind of a dick. Looking back on it, I can't blame him. I'm sure it was annoying as hell do deal with my insufferable, sick ass. Plus the fact that he had to play nurse and teacher, when he should have been having fun. As I'm stuck in the ground with skis crossed over my trachea, the rest of me bent like a pretzel. Sick as all hell. In the freezing cold snow. Sore and in pain everywhere. And he's yelling at me.<br />
<br />
I clear my sinuses for whatever I can find. Mmmm. There's something about the size of a small fetus...<br />
<br />
I take my best shot at him in pure anger and miss. Now he's laughing hysterically like a jackal.<br />
<br />
I am not amused. Out of spite I make it down to the bottom without another crash. There's a sense of determination that comes from being really, really pissed off. Release your anger!<br />
<br />
The next day I'd accidentally take the wrong ski lift all by myself. The one that went to the very top of Copper Mountain. Only one way down. Proud to say I made it down sicker than hell with only three crashes and with only two days of "training."<br />
<br />
The next day, however, at Winter Mountain Park, I'd finally abused my body past the point of even being able to breathe without completely hunching over in pain coughing uncontrollably. That was the end of skiing for me. The twins would finish out the last day skiing really difficult runs without the rookie holding them back. And I'd finish up eating our leftover steaks in our condo having to drink our Shiraz out of water glasses. NOT wine glasses -- water glasses! Absolutely barbaric living conditions.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6KD6CId9IqE1lrGRdQjG-X7F3POSELyoJ4FxDnwVMKrdU8I4OWpdnMOdJVe4Zg8jJNCG1wXTB-u2sKkDtspKtybdU-sUZoDgLY3I0dIy7UiYWKMgjKrhG2i0Zcbp51kq3W6Vcqh8K1Ru/s1600/KAI+MTN.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6KD6CId9IqE1lrGRdQjG-X7F3POSELyoJ4FxDnwVMKrdU8I4OWpdnMOdJVe4Zg8jJNCG1wXTB-u2sKkDtspKtybdU-sUZoDgLY3I0dIy7UiYWKMgjKrhG2i0Zcbp51kq3W6Vcqh8K1Ru/s320/KAI+MTN.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copper Mountain. Dork at 12,313 foot summit. Helmet by Devo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>So in hindsight, I was wrong about skiing being an unpleasant activity. Ok...I can't wait to go back. Healthy! The only thing that really annoyed me was the omnipresent folk music at every resort. A little Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, and Bob Denver goes a really wrong way. I suppose it makes the wealthy elitists who can afford to ski feel better about themselves when they listen to folk music.<br />
<br />
And as I knew, it would be wonderful to come home out of the freezing temperatures I despise so much. Glad I overcame that trip and conquered a new little challenge. There was something much more horrible, unstoppable coming next week...just around the corner...<br />
<br />
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This week I'm finishing the above book by Eric Lynch, Jon "Apestyles" Van Fleet, and Jon "Pearljammer" Turner. Very in depth poker stuff. Great book given to me by my friend Eric that I'm just getting around to reading. But you will have to buy it. From this link. Apparently comes in three volumes. Ahhh...another trilogy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-74856619315213981442012-02-17T00:03:00.001-06:002012-02-17T06:40:24.635-06:00Yes, yes, yes...I know this blog is in serious arrears. It appears many of you have taken me to collection services.<br />
<br />
Fair enough. Just don't think for one moment lack of blogs hasn't stemmed from lack of material. Just the opposite. <br />
<br />
But fret not. Three delicious blogs are stewing right now, getting peppered and spiced, salted, and much more than a pinch of love added to them. Hungry yet, jackals?<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if they're home runs, but safe to say that if they're all doubles, then that's one run and a man on second.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN944Nz2E5AydIuHHCmad6jPfLqrom_Z3GC6Y9ayz66kDlqtg42loW5GbhlcnYt23gYS3j7hHNc6uQ24LjRc6jutRnUllyQKwrc2Q5UYJqARFp8VVBqqmYIfmpLx9tV-N6DmHZl5dXXY2o/s1600/aaaaaaaaa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN944Nz2E5AydIuHHCmad6jPfLqrom_Z3GC6Y9ayz66kDlqtg42loW5GbhlcnYt23gYS3j7hHNc6uQ24LjRc6jutRnUllyQKwrc2Q5UYJqARFp8VVBqqmYIfmpLx9tV-N6DmHZl5dXXY2o/s320/aaaaaaaaa.jpg" width="271" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7r3qZBGKgE9g6vh4g6-b8ZuuUimwFWDJlaFsuVoGkC7IUIUu51XXLS0yVairP_MJtcFw9PblsrgarIirOAYFpHenm6ZCB6-ne0sg4WyH2tPB08DFB5yG7gWdqeiZMn1_c9PIA4BpVEKsg/s1600/bbbbb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7r3qZBGKgE9g6vh4g6-b8ZuuUimwFWDJlaFsuVoGkC7IUIUu51XXLS0yVairP_MJtcFw9PblsrgarIirOAYFpHenm6ZCB6-ne0sg4WyH2tPB08DFB5yG7gWdqeiZMn1_c9PIA4BpVEKsg/s1600/bbbbb.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5j1Y6z59tIdmNUucASTmzVW_MQIdQemrna9v30oSRgyHocfSv71BSOKh3UjJjyU2EcEdXNipcMCYE-typnGCQKjYnvyoWsjoFMyBAjPS98ZMKGzgZgN67Uh6BUYBpaU2pXzgAvik1cTkm/s1600/cccccc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5j1Y6z59tIdmNUucASTmzVW_MQIdQemrna9v30oSRgyHocfSv71BSOKh3UjJjyU2EcEdXNipcMCYE-typnGCQKjYnvyoWsjoFMyBAjPS98ZMKGzgZgN67Uh6BUYBpaU2pXzgAvik1cTkm/s1600/cccccc.jpg" /></a></div>Until then, this may have to suffice... an "ugly contest." Put your votes in, voyeurs!!! A, B, or C???Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-55857722602227055522012-01-23T21:12:00.016-06:002012-01-23T22:59:40.395-06:00AWFUL NOISES<span style="font-size: xx-small;">FALSE MAYAN APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN 47 SUNDAYS LEFT. Sun Jan 22, 2012</span><br />
<br />
<strong>BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAMBLAM</strong><br />
<br />
They say your recall of those events is never right, the devil in the details gets lost. Was it six shots? Seven? Ten? It happened so fast.<br />
<br />
I thought they were fireworks, but they were pretty loud and the rhythm was all wrong in those three seconds. Or was it two? Whatever it was it sounded like a gangland hit. Was it leftover fireworks? Some idiots with M-80s from new years?<br />
<br />
I try not to know people. Maybe it's anti-social, but I prefer in poker not to get too chummy with most people. Not to know their names. Not that I wouldn't like to have a drink or two with some of you at the next social gathering, or maybe get really toasted enough to the point where we wind up singing old Viking war anthems and challenging the next group of guys to go outside (this never happens), but for now, the situation that we're in, with each of us trying to take each other's money, dictates that I may have to raise you and make you fold. Or smooth call you down and make you cringe with temporary embarassment. Or check-raise you. Mmmmmm...my perosnal favorite...to check raise you. Especially if it's on the river and I have absolutely nothing, but so did you. <br />
<br />
I think we're both more comfortable if I don't know your name is Ed...or...whatever.<br />
<br />
We won't be cuddling, so I don't see much point to resorting to pillow talk. "Nice hand, Ed." <br />
<br />
Whatever. I don't say much.<br />
<br />
So I guess it gets doubly awkward for me when people call me by <em>my</em> name and I haven't taken the time to learn theirs. Hey, Kai, did you blah blah blah blah...?<br />
<br />
I make up names in my head for a lot of players. Maybe you've done the same. A lot of them aren't flattering, but most are innocent enough. The odds of your liking the nickname I've assigned to you? Pretty slim. Ruprict, Lazy-Eye, Fletch, Dorkapotamus, Slinky, Tornado Bait, Professor Puddingsworth...<br />
<br />
But most of the time I just make up a name that someone looks like. He looks like a Charlie. She looks like a Gretchen. His name's probably Whittaker. I'm sure I've been called worse. Much worse.<br />
<br />
I've already put a quantitative value on their conversational input, choice of topics, degree of how easily amused they are, how they play, and/or physical attributes...and some of these criteria go into the artificial name making process. Is it a little shallow? Maybe. It is kind of fun though. Anonymity is best when blood's involved.<br />
<br />
So this is my last shot at getting into the main event. A mega-satellite the day before. And a guy I've named Tugboat Charlie over the years, an older nice guy and good player, makes a raise at the 50/300/600 level. A novice player in town for the rodeo wearing a ginormous white cowboy hat makes a meaningless call. He's the guy who will call anything. If he goes into the Chevy dealership and the salesman tells him that the truck costs $450,000, he won't blink for a second...he's in. He's probably real agreeable in real life. Let's call him Sasperilla Sam. He just called off his entire stack with a KT a moment ago for no particular reason and rebought in for a full stack. Of course that wasn't nearly as good as when I watched someone accidentally turn over AA after going all in, which Silverado Sam clearly saw...and called off his entire stack -- against the visible AA-- with KQ!!! Although jaws dropped all around the table, everyone had the good sense to keep quiet. And drool. And wait.<br />
<br />
I look down at QQ. It's a little challenging to exercise control because I know Tugboat Charlie isn't raising light, and Silverado Sam isn't going anywhere, so why not just call to see a safe flop and enjoy my position?<br />
<br />
<strong>PLAYERS WE'RE STARTING A $550 SINNNNGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DANIELLE, A $100 SINNNNGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE. YOUR CHANCE TO GET INTO THE MAIN EVENT RIGHT HERE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM. SINNNNGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE, PAYS TWO PLACES....</strong><br />
<br />
Oh, God. Not now. It's Ringmaster B and his full blast repetitious speech booming down in a shower of game show host madness from the speaker systems directly above our heads. <br />
<br />
Must focus...I'm probably going to just smooth call....that's when my peripherals kick in...<br />
<br />
What's this? The cool college kid two to my left is going to do something. He is unsure of what, but he has a good hand. His body language has gone from asleep to wide awake though he's trying to look just like he did last hand when he folded. <br />
<br />
Sometimes it only takes a sliver of a second to get that mini-pulse, that little vibe, that little almost imperceptible click that goes off in your brain that someone next to you has a big hand, or what exactly they have. But when it goes off, it roars off like a canon inside your brain and your gut.<br />
<br />
I don't know why most people play poker. Some do it because they're degenerates, some because they love a difficult way to make easy money, some for social interaction maybe? But for me it's all about that little micro-second of absolute clarity. It's like heaven when you figure out something you're not supposed to know.<br />
<br />
So I decide to just smooth call the raise with my QQ, and see what exactly College Kid, behind me, has in mind for Tugboat Charlie, Sasperilla Sam and me. College Kid takes even longer than I did to decide what to do with all those delicious pre-flop chips out there. He wonders what took me so long...what Tugboat Charlie is raising with...none of this is an act...he really feels he needs to make a stand with this marginal power hand...but he's genuinely uncertain which course to take...it's now screaming only one of two things. AK or JJ.<br />
<br />
<strong>SINNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DANIELLE! PAYS TWO SPOTS! FIRST PLACE RECEIVES...</strong><br />
<br />
Breathe, Kai, breathe. Focus. Shut out the cattle auction...<br />
<br />
So he's taking a really long time, but finally decides after almost smooth calling, and then after almost raising...to just grab all the chips and shove. It's starting to look more and more like JJ.<br />
<br />
Sasperilla Sam, to no one's surprise calls off his entire stack in this re-buy tournament. Again. His range actually includes some Tarot cards and Uno cards as well. Anything is possible from this guy. <br />
<br />
So now I'm looking at a major all-in triple up if I decide to play the third best starting hand in poker -- but three way. That's a big decision. If they hit, I'm not in the main this month...I have to be absolutely sure this kid has JJ and not AK.<br />
<br />
I flash back to those gunshots from earlier today. I found out they were gunshots when I walked up my really peaceful block here where I live in South Mississippi. Ugly scene. Not what you want fresh in your head before a tournament. A truck's tires have been blown out. Body on the ground. Cops surrounding him. Another cop zipping around the scene spooling off DO NOT CROSS yellow tape all around the wide block. A cop truck zooms down my 15mph street at about 80. VROOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!! Ten cop cars. Fire truck. Abulance. I'd find out it was some idiot criminal who held up a Walgreens, tried to escape and outrun the cops. Then after the cops took out his tires, he thought running out and bringing a knife to a gunfight was the best course of action.<br />
<br />
<strong>BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAMBLAM</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>PLAYERS WE HAVE ONE SEAT LEFT FOR THIS SINNNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM! DON'T GET SHUT OUT! IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM! ONE LUCKY SEAT LEFT! DON'T GET SHUT OUT! SINNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE ......AAAAAANNNNNNDDDDD....</strong><br />
<br />
Oh, God.....the carnival sledgehammer is about to slam down on that one syllable and strike the bell...<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">SOLD!</span></strong><br />
<br />
In my mind's eye I see Ringmaster B dropping down to the ground hard into a celebratory split and twisting his fists by each each other in a lightning-fast 70's type dancefloor victory celebration.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
I love Ringmaster B. I really do. If he needed a kidney, I swear to God I've got two for the guy...but the microphone thing...we've talked about it...it's getting better...slowly...</div><br />
Back to now. Back to reality. Focus, idiot! Focus! The action is on you!<br />
<br />
I've got to know if this kid has AK or JJ. It's a life or death difference. I mumble something to the table...I don't even remember what...it's like sending out a radar signal...trying to see what comes back. It's almost like my eyesight shuts down in those moments and I'm relying just on radar. People mumble some things back and there's a little chatter but I'm focused on the kid through the sides of my head. It's weird when you try to get a read on someone's hand and it becomes like synesthesia...when someone has AK it has a certain<em> flavor</em> to it...an orange heaviness...a heavy hollow bell chime ring...There's a <em>feel</em> to certain people's hands that defies description. JJ has a <em>totally different...flavor</em>.<br />
<br />
He mumbles something and throws in his last chip which he doesn't notice which was behind his arm, makes a semi-funny comment and smiles and gives a little laugh. But as I'm watching him, I see his smile has an unnatural ending to it...it doesn't just fade out by a slow drop...it breaks off too tensely and suddenly like the smile was a little artificially confident. Got it. He has Jacks. My Zen moment of absolute clarity has arrived in that tiny fraction of a second!!!<br />
<br />
I'm a 4:1 favorite against him! Not a 1.2 : 1 favorite. I'm getting well over a gigantic triple-up pot agaist him and Sasperilla Sam's random hand. I win this one, I can navigate my way easily to the main event! Shove-all-in!<br />
<br />
He flips over Jacks. <br />
<br />
Sasperilla Sam turns over a Ten......and an Ace. 2.5 : 1 favorite over this calling station to boot!<br />
<br />
Flop: Ace.<br />
<br />
<strong>BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAMBLAM BLAM.</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>PLAYERS WE ARE STARTING A NEW SINNNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DEBBIE A SINNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG.....</strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I decide to take my kids and dog out for a walk around the neighborhood later on that day. It's a gorgeous day and I'm ready for some normalcy. I guess I should have focused equally on Sasperilla Sam's hand...been more precise with his holdings as well. Should I have been more careful? Would it have mattered? Wouldn't I have still shoved? Time to leave tournaments behind for a few months and focus on...other things. Today all my focus is on my kids. Leave that crazy stuff from earlier behind me.<br />
<br />
My kids, dog and I are loving our walk. Suddenly a cute perfectly trimmed little white poodle sees my dog, my kids and I from across the highway and decides to jot across it and say hi...it doesn't see the car coming from behind it. It's going to hit in half a second. I can't stop it. I yell at my kids to look away! "CLOSE YOUR EYES!" I scream. I try to throw up my arms and shield their vision. They can't help it. They look. They see it. They hear it. I can't stop their horrible crying and screaming for a really, really long time...<br />
<br />
This week cannot end soon enough.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=suppleincome-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=B003FMUP3M&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><br />
In lieu of a book this week I'm HIGHLY recommending ALTEC earbuds. I bought one of those Skullcandy earbuds recently and became aware of how deeply Skullcandy products suck. Returned! These Altec babies were half the price ($20 or so) and are AWESOME! They clobber your eardrums with deep, thick bass and lush, bright sounds. And complete noise filtering without bleeding music. Which is great for drowning out the sounds of people getting shot to death or poodles getting crunched under a tire.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-13120716888983009862012-01-22T23:53:00.000-06:002012-01-22T23:53:31.155-06:00Hmmmmmm....<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Don't think I'm gonna have this blog up by Sun night...but I like how it's evolving, morphing, and getting laid out...maybe put on a finishing touch Monday night. Right now it kind of reads like this...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">But with proper time to let it sit overnight and touch it up a few details, it will read like this tomorrow night.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiolSoI9-QFU0_SnzZEZuiMVFPpJdleUGzkyevM9qD5vENSujWWdqUNkk3kNnWNKUrT_iXLuqRkTIIuhVwDFKhadBdNzsckaFURiDQVxuPtaTHioGZBmVE7nHPeMJFrX0D1jeS9fiRIcUPy/s1600/blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiolSoI9-QFU0_SnzZEZuiMVFPpJdleUGzkyevM9qD5vENSujWWdqUNkk3kNnWNKUrT_iXLuqRkTIIuhVwDFKhadBdNzsckaFURiDQVxuPtaTHioGZBmVE7nHPeMJFrX0D1jeS9fiRIcUPy/s320/blog+2.jpg" width="283" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">However, I know if I work too long and too hard on it, it will just be as annoying as THIS...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyMVQmfubexvLbh2T_odmTqwBBWLkkCta9_DoMaJ32SesmcHR-rQTRqfPVOzIBNsKs1a5VL7rmA9e1d_xxtHCo_0XTgmY4yj7I5Miv275ps3o4hTkurQwMH0ON5KuKiU6eIpx1OphJTr5/s1600/blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyMVQmfubexvLbh2T_odmTqwBBWLkkCta9_DoMaJ32SesmcHR-rQTRqfPVOzIBNsKs1a5VL7rmA9e1d_xxtHCo_0XTgmY4yj7I5Miv275ps3o4hTkurQwMH0ON5KuKiU6eIpx1OphJTr5/s320/blog+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">So I think one more day is the proper incubation time. See you voyeurs tomorrow night.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">K</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-5028397851694067162012-01-15T22:02:00.107-06:002012-01-18T11:51:19.962-06:00WILL PLAY FOR POPEYE'S FRIED CHICKEN<span style="font-size: xx-small;">FALSE MAYAN APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN 48 SUNDAYS LEFT. Sun Jan 15, 2012.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodmtTaP_PGClbFwEL6iQwKxeUZhjFqx11ZcjRHT79xdScgME53A8NkmB8QB__O-RedKYQpclh8ZtDojlAOEWFU05yl8kUhhMkQ4Uo-dMrMoJecnH3FhIkKPkqbYXJHiFzuY7CpGU4tj-V/s1600/c4s_popeyes051610_122038c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodmtTaP_PGClbFwEL6iQwKxeUZhjFqx11ZcjRHT79xdScgME53A8NkmB8QB__O-RedKYQpclh8ZtDojlAOEWFU05yl8kUhhMkQ4Uo-dMrMoJecnH3FhIkKPkqbYXJHiFzuY7CpGU4tj-V/s320/c4s_popeyes051610_122038c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Details below.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
CRYSTAL AND TIFFANY AREN'T JUST NAMES OF ENTERTAINERS AT RICK'S...<br />
<br />
Well if this isn't just salt in the wound...<br />
<br />
Flashback about one month ago. I get the only bill in the mail maybe anyone could ever possibly look forward to receiving. And tearing the envelope open with a big smile like it's Christmas morning.<br />
<br />
"Dear <Mr. Landry>, it is with great excitement that we are pleased to announce ticket sales for the post season. The NFL has directed us to go ahead and prepare to sell playoff tickets to our season ticket holders as soon as possible tickets for up to two postseason games..."<br />
<br />
Boom Shaka Laka Laka!<br />
<br />
Our boys in black and gold had done it again! Record shattering amazing bastards! Greatest Show on Turf's points? Shattered. Dan Marino's record? Shattered. Peyton Manning's record? Shattered. Drew Brees even shattered the completion percentage record formerly held by the great Drew Brees. Upwards of fifteen long standing NFL records were obliterated by margins of up to 7-8% by this team. Sproles. Graham. History books.<br />
<br />
And then... the comedy of errors at Candlestick Park, against the long-hated 49ers, the double-decade dynasty of the former NFC West allignment. It was kind of like the 1982 Aints had continuously made cameo appearances in the script...leaving me feeling violently nautious, and leaving a team with this much heart and talent, the most offensively potent team of all time, watching the playoffs from home This was supposed to be the mental confidence bounceback game for the Louisiana/ Gulf Coast area after the LSU/Alabama EMBARASSMENT. <br />
<br />
What amazed me most about the Saints is how they didn't quit and made an amazing comeback, and damn near victory, all while numerous ridiculous turnovers... bad beat after bad beat...never once shook their confidence. It was an absolutely amazing effort...<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdx9o-0aWo8pG_8RAp3gF12rDS1lBG8Wjlmu77tYvBtV7hvha1QfzIQ2t5VzRtAHeNxHAkGXJkK7Z0J-ovHdhxfBbyxCkeMQ_la9rpsHxvDWMRvfTLimEVEPyzdbNx61V7-Wo4Vam9yq-/s1600/imagesCA6TFGGE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdx9o-0aWo8pG_8RAp3gF12rDS1lBG8Wjlmu77tYvBtV7hvha1QfzIQ2t5VzRtAHeNxHAkGXJkK7Z0J-ovHdhxfBbyxCkeMQ_la9rpsHxvDWMRvfTLimEVEPyzdbNx61V7-Wo4Vam9yq-/s1600/imagesCA6TFGGE.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!<br />
<br />
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!<br />
<br />
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
...as opposed to the LSU Tigers' "performance," which damn near had me going on Ebay to sell my collegiate football fan allegiance to the highest bidder. Twenty bucks to root for the New Mexico State Aggies for the rest of my life, and never have to root for these quitters again? Tempting...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There's no dirtier word in sports than the Q-word, and I'll be damned if that's not what they did. Congratulations, Alabama. Congratulations, San Fransisco. While the Saints game may have had me cursing and screaming like a drunken, inner-city Tourettes stricken sailor with an unbridled amounts of equal parts rage and insanity, coming damn near close to throwing my HDTV out the window with the last energy of a dying human body that had it's living, blood-pumping heart ripped out by Vernon Davis with 0:09 left on the clock, at least I can say that the Saints never gave up and fought like hell to win that game.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">But as for LSU? OOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, it's gonna take a long, long time for me to forgive you for this one.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We all saw every damn one of you on the bench halfway through the third quarter...not speaking to each other, heads down...dejected. It was the "no mas" fight of college football. It's really disrespectful to Alabama that they didn't even have to earn this one.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So much for getting some more crystal and Tiffany silver trophies down here, no matter how great your teams were this season. The horrific South Louisiana gridiron apocylapse on 2012 is now behind us, but the sting throbs and festers really badly!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8l7ehSogr5Blg2yjOvkLrHMnnsDdRkUbomA0CRrg2Vylob7UPLBZaMWNlRGoNms6KaEeLlElPvwJ2xWAVTmJbVgLrDtUPFv4dSEpYUONDbtNddgq7QSaFOB_uiPxgHBxOH3OjjOxUTn_/s1600/bottle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nfa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8l7ehSogr5Blg2yjOvkLrHMnnsDdRkUbomA0CRrg2Vylob7UPLBZaMWNlRGoNms6KaEeLlElPvwJ2xWAVTmJbVgLrDtUPFv4dSEpYUONDbtNddgq7QSaFOB_uiPxgHBxOH3OjjOxUTn_/s320/bottle.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cures sorrow. Take as directed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Once the Saints are out of the picture, the NFL has about as much excitement and luster to me as AA womens' basketball or sitting around listening to NPR and quilting all day. </div>But the salt in the wound is that I got ridiculously "lucky" with the Saints this year in my request for additional playoff tickets. All that simply had to happen this week is that the Saints take care of business and the Giants do the impossible and defeat Green Bay at Lambeau Field, and I would have had the rights to sell THIRTEEN NFC Championship tickets at the game that would have been held at the Superdome next week. And as I just watched it unfold, shaking my head in disgust, New York took care of their part. Thirteen golden tickets to an event that doesn't exist... <br />
<br />
MILLION DOLLAR HEATER AT THE BEAU RIVAGE.<br />
First off, severe congratulations to my really, really good friend Scott....something. I forget his last name. Whatever. But he's a tremendous competitor. Tremendous enough to take down the opening event at the Beau last week with over 1,500 entrants. Williams? Yeah. That's it. Scott Williams. I think he's this guy in this picture or something:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeR3ZN7Aaim6DxTzouVfNxw2ru3D-auNLYX41nEc8Y-BY6qlPyWe3aUtJR7oqfio3dW3DqFG62aSRxe8lQVUm_PKqLizXTECItdtUdc0CiIfaqE9CMvC6Z9YlxAwaLoXHtMRUpV30hTeMO/s1600/photo-11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeR3ZN7Aaim6DxTzouVfNxw2ru3D-auNLYX41nEc8Y-BY6qlPyWe3aUtJR7oqfio3dW3DqFG62aSRxe8lQVUm_PKqLizXTECItdtUdc0CiIfaqE9CMvC6Z9YlxAwaLoXHtMRUpV30hTeMO/s1600/photo-11.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forgot to stick out his pinkies...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Anyway, when asked about his strategy, Scott said, "I just cross my fingers and hope a lot." Well said, Scott. Truly inspirational. Let's just "hope" Scott keeps winning so he can enlighten us with more nuggets of wisdom like this.<br />
<br />
As for myself, I bubbled that same event last week, then bubbled yesterday's event, coming in 32d with 27 getting paid. The only two events I've played. This just hours after watching the Saints lose in the last seconds during dinner break. Swish that around in your mouth for a while. Tastes like "despondency" and "malaise" doesn't it? MMMmmmm! Despondency! I can't complain though, as it's been a little while since I've played, and feel like I'm getting the "ring rust" off quikly in just these two openers, and I can definitely feel I am starting to get back into strong tournament form.<br />
<br />
WILL WORK FOR POPEYES<br />
<br />
Anyway as far as the main event goes for the Million Dollar Heater Main Event, if anyone is interested in staking me for the entire buy-in, I will work for no more than one three (3) piece white spicy Popeyes dinner with red beans and rice as the side, and a large Coke as the drink. That means if I take down first place for an estimated $300,000 or so; it would be entirely yours for the contractual consideration of the spicy delicious Popeyes dinner described above. All forms would be filled out accordingly.<br />
<br />
I don't really feel like getting into 60/40 split, 70/30 split with makeup discussions...so let's just put this out on the table as simply as I can. I will only accept a cash payout of ONE POPEYES THREE PIECE WHITE SPICY DINNER, WITH RED BEANS AND RICE AS THE SIDE AND A LARGE COKE AS THE DRINK. All cash winnings would be yours and you alone also responsible for taxes.<br />
<br />
I know what you're thinking...why would anyone go against the policy of, as the Joker said in The Dark Knight Rises, "If you're good at something, never do it for free."<br />
<br />
Well simply put, I'm interested in attaining a working relationship with a backer from here on out. Up to this point I've been the only one fronting myself with two exceptions in this years WSOP (one i won, the other I didn't). And I'm really interested to see what I can do in a different set of circumstances. Could you just "Buy a Piece?" Maybe. But you front the damn chicken, and you get a 100% payout. <br />
<br />
Don't worry. I have a great game plan to win. Have Jordan Jefferson run the option or throw a screen on every play, then eventually just give up. <br />
<br />
Just kidding.<br />
<br />
Or I'll just satellite in and keep every damn penny for myself. Let's see. <br />
<br />
But the 99.9997/ 0.00003 (no rake back) offer is on the table.<br />
<br />
Yes, I am serious about the chicken.<br />
<br />
JUST OUT OF CURIOSITY<br />
<br />
If anyone is from the New Orleans metro area and old enough to remember the old LAS Siding commercials with Oscar the handy-man sitting on an old rickety bench and staring just off to the camera and looking pathetic (while the camera slowly zooms out) and the narrator says, "This is Oscar...Oscar is out of work and could install affordable siding on your home..."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFH2RXWcXq_7dSfKy2CXtoZNUw8eOHPLWA_JObTzD216JfXZzoJjPru7ImqdnShfGvuLd4essJm25PU4GqC1I_oxMfspRyNvTHWRe4fswPxn33X19j4H2RT9_Tpvsf_Odxx3QVjU2fq-p3/s1600/tshirt_front_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFH2RXWcXq_7dSfKy2CXtoZNUw8eOHPLWA_JObTzD216JfXZzoJjPru7ImqdnShfGvuLd4essJm25PU4GqC1I_oxMfspRyNvTHWRe4fswPxn33X19j4H2RT9_Tpvsf_Odxx3QVjU2fq-p3/s320/tshirt_front_lg.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm asking because I came across this LAS shirt on the internet but couldn't find an Oscar t-shirt anywhere...did I just imagine this character as a child or was this real? Somebody help!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Kai-prah's Book of the Month Club:<br />
Just finished "Bad Bet on the Bayou." For any of you ever gambling at Harrah's in New Orleans, and amazed by how awful the dealers and service are, you'll be even more amazed story of the political nightmare and corruption that penetrated every level of government in Louisiana to get this casino built and gaming legalized in the state. A few months back I highly recommended "Havanna Nocturne" to you, a book about Castro getting the mob and gambling OUTof Cuba during the revolution. This book is about getting gambling and the mob INTO Louisiana by an equally slimy individual, Governor Edwin Edwards. Prepare to be shocked by all the incomepence and corruption in 1990's Louisiana government.<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=suppleincome-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0374528543&ref=tf_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-49535681476499847622012-01-07T01:38:00.022-06:002012-01-07T16:07:33.834-06:00SUNDAYS, EVERYONE? ONLY FIFTY LEFT!So I ran into the consistently obnoxious, loud and foul-mouthed owners of our website (GulfCoastPoker.NET) this evening (Bill Phillips and Gene Dudek) at the Beau Rivage in Biloxi. I'm sure most of you know these guys, so I'm sure you'll know exaclty what I'm talking about when I say this...<br />
<br />
After having to endure their never-ending barrage of dead hooker jokes, Penn State jokes, and limericks set in "Nantucket." I managed to squeeze in a few words of my own...barely. You know these typical guys, right? The ones who leave the frat house...but<em> it</em> never really leaves<em> them</em>. The ones who keep slapping you on the back, belching, and asking you if you want a beer...only to be distracted by ANY woman who walks in the room to look her over from toenail to hair-do?<br />
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I mean...it's not so much that these guys offend my deep Christian sensibilities as it is that they're so damn childish.<br />
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Anyway, inbetween the one about Michael Jackson's proctologist and the one about Little Bo Peep's unwanted pregnancy (I've worded that more delicately than they did) ...I told them both how I "resolved" to churn out more blogs for them this year. Even if it's just fifteen or so. I enjoy writing, and feel like I need to hit the ground much harder than I did with things I believe I have a knack for, poker being one of them. To really leave a strong impression in 2012. To write more often ...to read and play poker much more consistently...how I need to take things more seriously once again and use...<br />
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Once again, Gene's just pretending to listen to me, but then interrupts me to ask me to "pull his finger."<br />
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I indulge him. Yes, Gene... I can tell you had Arby's for dinner. How fascinating.<br />
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I tell them how I enjoy writing and have these ideas for a couple of BOOKS I'd like to write. One about a serial murder with a heart of gold who spends all his spare time at Wal-Mart. One about an old widower's personal spiritual quest. One dark comedy about a union organizer in a sewerage plant where the workers are filthy, and the pay gets worse.<br />
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Bill decides to cut me off here with another unrequested "comment." No, Bill. That's not what santorum really means. Show some respect to the man. He just placed second in Iowa.<br />
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I look over my right shoulder and see Gene is shooting three Jaeger-bombs in the time it takes most people to sneeze and asking everyone if they know who the "player of the series" was at the IP just recently. And how that guy "don't take **** from nobody." Thankfully, most of the room goes unbothered. Even when he raises his right hand and does "the shocker" as his little victory move. "THE SHOCKAAAAHHHH!! YEAH BOOOYYYYYEEEE...." Suddenly, Gene falls over quickly and awkwardly on an empty table fifty-one, really hard, and right on his left side. It looks like it hurt like hell. From this angle, it looks almost looks like he intentionally head-butted the poker table at full speed with the left side of his face. He gets up really quick and tries to act cool. Once again, he raises his right-shocker-hand in victory to the "delight" of the crowd. "shockaaahhh" he just kind of whispers this time.<br />
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But I guess this boorish "who cares how I behave, the money's always gonna keep pouring in!" kind of attitude is what we can expect to exist when a couple of guys like Bill and Gene make it big with an incredibly successful poker news site like GCP.NET. That's life.<br />
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I start telling Bill, the possibly more sober of the two -- as if that word could ever apply to them -- about how I want to find a serious backer this year. How I've got a goal to even write a poker book with a situational quiz format. How...<br />
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His eyes glaze over. He's looking right through me like I'm made of glass. But right when I think he's mentally gliding over the foggy methane surface of Mars, he aggressively grabs my shirt and shakes me with a viscious sneer on his face and a deranged, yet totally zen look in his eyes. "Sundays," he says. "You gotta spill your nasty little verbal gumbo out on my site every Sunday."<br />
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Bill throws up a little in his mouth. And then...it disappears back where it came from.<br />
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"If you write one day a week, even if you don't .... have no material or nothin'....even stupid stuff...on a set day of the week....you really can increase your readership. People like that set day stuff. Givess 'em shomething to look forward to."<br />
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Hmmmm. From the mouths of children... pearls of wisdom. Amazing.<br />
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"How bout that, Lumpy (Bill calls me Lumpy for reasons NO ONE understands), you want Sumday? How bout Shhunday?<br />
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Sounds pretty good.<br />
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Let's do it. After all, according to the Mayans, we've only got fifty Sundays left. I mean, why should I not take serious calendar and self-burial planning advice from a virtually extinct Indian tribe who practiced human sacrifice on their own people and had not yet stumbled upon big technological marvels...like the wheel? Couldn't be any worse than believing Bill...who I just took advice from. Could it? Let's assume both Bill and the Mayas are right, so I'll churn out 50 blogs, one each Sunday, for you people, until December 21, 2012.<br />
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I wound up hanging out with these two buffoons for the next half hour exchanging stories. I'm thinking Gene really hurt his spleen from that fall and should seek medical attention, but, hey, who died and made me Dr. Schweitzer, right?! I just walk him over to his car and watch him drive off. He'll probably be ok. Whatever.<br />
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But, hey. It's simple politics. If you want to keep having cyber realty space to print your blather on, you yuck it up with these owner / editors. Pretend you like them. Laugh at their jokes. Slap their backs. Take an occasional Jaegarbomb. And then get to writing. In the big picture I have planned out for 2012, with my personal goals, those dudes are just speedbumps along the way. I'm all cleared and now I got talked into doing 50 blogs for you people. YOU'RE WELCOME!<br />
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2011 was such a year of "almost" for me in every single way. Almost scored big here, almost got a ring there, almost got my first WSOP bracelet there, almost...well, some of these "almosts" are too scandalous to tell. Sorry. But 2012 will not be an "almost" year. I can feel it coming. And I'm feeling determined again to leave a lot of "almosts" behind me.<br />
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So from now on, Kai's blog will come out every Sunday night on GCP.NET. And yeah, I think I can churn out 50. And hey, Gene and Bill, let's change the name of this thing back to "You're Entering a World of Pain."<br />
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Well there's a Shocker!!!<br />
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Next Sunday: The Viking Auctioneer and Self-ComposureUnknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-71260332502769687162011-11-05T15:12:00.000-05:002011-11-05T15:12:29.079-05:00BEST BLOG EVER KNOWN TO MAN.((( This blog has been deemed so incredible it has been shielded from public view for safety concerns. We apologize for that disappointed feeling you have. We will return soon with a less incredible blog. Thank you for your understanding. )))<br />
<br />
KUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1212680850975799968.post-21106421342925905752011-07-13T04:06:00.000-05:002011-07-13T04:06:22.974-05:00WSOP MAIN EVENT UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiTliKbkTsG5cuI78ZlXCKagnd8X3pNPfR6s-b_lRtQ08CocYqOZJTI8haAyu6r138GOewoKu-iHrqYpIPzw6Ij_e0P5IUwDVLpoiIg9upSIDDnrlg3Lb6a1ULNlIeQOJXuk21bLMa2fR/s1600/bibel_crash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiTliKbkTsG5cuI78ZlXCKagnd8X3pNPfR6s-b_lRtQ08CocYqOZJTI8haAyu6r138GOewoKu-iHrqYpIPzw6Ij_e0P5IUwDVLpoiIg9upSIDDnrlg3Lb6a1ULNlIeQOJXuk21bLMa2fR/s320/bibel_crash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And there you have it.<br />
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Thanks for reading.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0