2010 National Champions.....Roll Tide!!!!

Okay, the pressure I created for myself last night by posting that the best blog ever was forthcoming today has put me in a very awkward spot. I am not sure I can deliver as promised. I feel like the chances of me delivering on my promise are about as good as Texas' chance of mounting a come from behind victory behind the leadership and experience of Garrett Gilbert. Or was it Gilbert Grape? I know there were two 'G's involved there somewhere.

Okay...by now you know that the Alabama Crimson Tide are National Champs...with a record of 13-0. Which is really good. My wife pulls for Alabama. So there is peace in my home. And happiness. And I can walk with pride, for after looking at the National Recruiting rankings...my Washington Huskies are ranked 8th overall...with the top class in the Pac-10. Texas was first...with 'Bama 2nd. The SEC just consistently gets so much talent. Watching that game tonight...after watching Boise St vs. TCU the other night...its like night vs. day the gap in talent. Bigger, faster, stronger...more athletic. I mean...those RB's for Alabama...gross how it took 4 or 5 guys to bring them down every run. There were at least 10 future NFL'ers out on that field tonight.

Yeah, well that game kind of screwed me. Had Texas covered the 4.5 spread on my Bowl Pool...with 140 players, and $2475 to 1st place...I would have won that bitch. And been ecstatic. And so when it was 24-21...and Texas needed to go the length of the field with  2:42 remaining...it seemed like I could be sitting on the win. And before the game, I did a smart thing and 'hedged' with a $500 wager on Alabama....but at -3...so Texas losing by 4 would have been HUMONGOUS! But even 3....would have been cool, push on the wager, and win the bowl pool. But no....things got disastrous...and it all got away from me. So I have to be happy with a tie for 4th place...and $155....and winning my $500 Bama bet...and having a happy wife.

That same wife was lucky to even see the game. Why? Well...last night got a bit out of hand. For her. Squirrel has a problem. She has no 'off switch' on her. When we go out...and she starts drinking...she don't stop until we have taken a left on Crazy Street...accelerated down to Psycho Avenue, where we veered left and proceeded to Black Out Boulevard. Where the vehicle that is us smashed into the wall, throwing bodies everywhere...

Yeah. Squirrel decided since she was off today for the game, that we would go out with her friends. So we go to the Beau....errrr..escuse me....Bad Times Resort and Casino...to meet up with the girls and get our dance on. Only...I didn't get my dance on. Why? Because both of my knees are shot to hell. I will be getting my knee scoped next week maybe. So what did I do? Well, besides feed Squirrel drinks? I sat...and I observed. People. Lots of very strange, unusual people. Its one of the things I like to do more than anything in the world. Its one of the reasons I love live poker. I love the chance to get and look at and study 8 or 9 complete strangers (well not as many strangers nowadays...as when I first started playing) and develop all these wild thoughts about them in my head.

Which is why last night was so incredibly amusing. Or scary. Depending upon your vantage point.

Oh...this just in. In Event #1...today...at the Bad Times Resort and Casino...it was reported to me by my spys/reporters that after having 1005 players show up last year for Event #1...today saw a robust 370 show up. Hmm, thats too bad. And I am guessing they will choose to blame the weather or the National Title game. Yeah...I think I might have seen some rain drops. Or maybe it was cold. Not positive there. And then I get another report from a dealer friend...telling me that they are all being limited to 40 hours a week...which is a joke. They bring these dealers from all over the country...generally make them pay for their own transportation getting here and usually pay for their rooms while they are here...and when only 370 players show up, guess what? Their hourly rate ends up being crappy. SO what have they been forced to do? Shoot over to the IP and try pulling double duty so they can pay for their trip down to our lovely community. Isn't that nice?

What is the alternative? Hey...I'm glad you asked. You put on a tourney with really good structures. You have great SNG's. You let players buy into SNG's with chips they have won in OTHER SnG's...instead of lying to them and telling them its a 'Gaming Commission Law' that they can't do that, when we all know good and well that its a total crock of shit. They don't let you use them becuase they have this shallow theory that if those chips get stuck in your pocket you will be forced, against your will (picture a hardened thug with a gun to your head...walking you to the registration desk) to go play the tourney that day. See....its really not that hard to get rid of those chips. Players are either (a) GOING TO PLAY the noon tourney or (b) NOT GOING TO PLAY the noon tourney, regardless of those fucking chips they are dragging around with them.

All it means? Is that you have to make like a panhandler at the end of the freeway exit, standing there outside the line of the registration desk...begging people to buy your fucking chips, so you can go fill up with a tank of gas and get the hell outa dodge, where your crack-addicted wife and 3 illegitimate kids can fills their bowls with Malt-O-Meal the next morning. Thanks! Thanks for buying my chips sir......

Where was I? I think I just deviated. Like made a really hard left at Rue de Relevance. Lets get back to the nightclub last night....

Oh wait. Some other bad info came my way just a short while ago. The little event that IP is holding down the street...the one that I was planning to go play every  night and not hate my life the whole time that I am sitting there? Feeling like Louis Winthorpe III standing outside in the rain, looking through the window of a fancy restaraunt as Billy Ray Valentine is wined and dined by Randolph and Mortimer Duke, a $1 bet between brothers to destroy my life the ovbjective. But instead of the Duke brothers, I am dealing with a couple of other, ahem...Gentleman, employed by my nemesis, the Bad Times Resort and Casino. And like Winthorpe, who is clearly getting screwed for no good reason, every thing I do to try to make things right just ends up in some ridiculous slap in the face. Well, at least he ends up with the girl in the end...as I do every night. So as I sit like a fish in a bowl being watched by all, I was hoping to at least do it in the company of some fun and cool fellow players. But when I find out today that only 13 players attended tonights first event there...I was, well, not too pleased.

I was kind of disappointed that they didnt embrace my idea of making every night over there a Bust the Monkey Bounty event. It would have been fun. And, I think...attract a good crowd of Monkey Killers. But I never heard back from them on that deal. And I would have had to miss tonight due to the ball game. But I will be there tomorrow, and the good news? Its a $200 buy in. And they are adding in 2k. So if only 13 show up? I like my chances to make the Final Table! And there will be a nice fat overlay!

Back to the nightclub. Its me and Squirrel and then 'The Claw' and her new boyfriend J.R. who I am quickly starting to dig. Then Brandy Nagle joined us...and there other girls coming and going. And as I am sitting there...at our table...I see something which causes me to nearly...uh...faint. No no...not faint. Put it this way. I could have sworn I was seeing things. Hallucinating. Y'all know Carl Miller? Plays a lot of poker. Has for a long time. In fact, when I started playing 6 years ago...Carl was playing at the Grand. You might recognize Carl by his medical scrubs that he usually is wearing. Carl is a Massage Therapist. I never really knew Carl that well, and really kind of got to know him in the past couple of years. I like him. A lot. He is a very kind guy. And always came across as very passive, and calm...and like...mellow?

So when I look over...at the dance floor and see this older guy just going OFF on the dance floor, I was like "Wow, that guy is really getting into it! Really having fun!" And I'm watching him for awhile...and all of a sudden I'm like..."Holy SHIT! Thats Carl-freaking-Miller!"  I think Carl is older than me (42) and younger than ....hmm, I guess I would give him maybe 48? Not really sure. But this is a club that is carrying an average age of probably 25. Hell, I don't even feel comfortable being there...but I am with my wife, so I have an excuse.

Not like the REALLY old guy who was there. I mean...when I say old? I mean...this guy was at LEAST 76. Little short guy...big ears...cruising around like he's a 35 year old millionaire on South Beach trolling for hot models. It was hilarious. So I would spend an inordinate amount of time watching this geezer cruise around the dance floor trying to make his moves on women 1/4 his age. And he wasnt taking rejection at all. You know the expression 'Persistence Defeats Resistance?' It was created with this guy in mind. But it was still funny. And at the pit of my soul...I'm thinking..."Wow, ya know, God kill me if I am 76 and in a club trolling for single women...but at the same time, if I am able to go out at 76 and have as much fun as this guy appears to be having? That might not be such a bad thing either!"

So I take a trip to the bathroom. To USE THE BATHROOM. And in strolls a fat, ugly cow of a woman. And my paranoia alarm starts going off. I start thinking about that movie...where Jodie Foster gets raped on a pool table. And maybe two of the guys were in on it...but the whole group of guys got in trouble for it. I look around...there are 6 guys in the bathroom. I get scared. I start imagining this nasty skank concocting some insane tale about being 'taken' into the mens room and sexually assaulted. I freak out. I run out of there and find a purple person. Oh! A purple person is what I call the security personnel that are employed by the Bad Times Resort and Casino. There wear, yeah....purple blazer-like jackets. I report the skank siting in the bathroom and insist that I am not part of a nefarious plot to have my way with her. I escape that scene without incurring prosecution of any kind.

Later I venture into the bathroom again. There, standing at the bathroom sink, is Carl...he is...he is...yep, he is undressing. Well, not totally, just his shirt. He has managed to work himself into a sweaty lather while 'gettin loose' on the dance floor, and has taken the hygenic route of rinsing off the sweat, drying off, and getting re-dressed. Then, I assume, heading back to the dance floor. I take a moment to chat with Carl. Tell him how shocked I was to see him rippin shit up on the dance floor. He tells me "Oh you didn't know I had that side to me did ya Monkey!?" Uh...no sir, I'm not gonna lie...I DID NOT see that coming! But its fun to see you having such a good time! Carl's awesome.

At some point...I started evaluating women's clothing. Then there was an invasion of our table. Three very overweight and badly dressed women plopped down a little too close to our table...and then here comes their 'almost attractive' friend...who I would say (based on my uncanny ability to read people) was probably close to 43...recently divorced...the recipient of a breast enhancement...and ready to take on the world of being single. Out with her moo-cow friends who all needed tips on how to present themselves in public. Squirrel was off in the bathroom and suddenly this Super Cougar is giving me those looks. You know, the ones that make you feel very uneasy and even awkward. And is usually at this point now where I look, out of habit, down at my ring...finding comfort in its existence. But when I look down...oh fuck! I took a bath the other night...took it off, and didn't put it back on. This is the first time since we got married that I have been out in public without my ring. And now I am having a panic attack...as this M.I.H.N.D.T.F. (figure that one out...take off on MILF) is over there eye fucking me.  Oh God...it gets worse...she then starts trying the whole, 'look at me and my fat friend! We aren't lesbians, but I'm gonna dance on her lap, and rub on her...and try to make your imagination go crazy and THINK that we are...so you will find me really hot.'

Oh please kill me right now. There is no escape. Finally, Squirrel returns. I immediately pull her on my lap to kiss her. Peaking over to see if Single and Crazy is watching...thankfully she is. She gets this weird 'I'm thinking about boiling your pet rabbit' look on her face and I quickly turn abruptly to the left..just wanting her to go away. Which finally, she does. Whew!

I make some more colorful observations as the night goes on. When, please tell me will it go out of vogue for DJ's to stop screaming out...."all the single ladies in the house...make some motherfuckin noiiiise..." and "all my people from Mississippi, make some motherfucking noooisssse." Or...'party people in the house say HOOOOOO..." Then there's the always popular "everyone make some noiiiisse." Mixed in with the occassional request to throw our arms up in the air. Please! I would like to chalk this up to me just getting old, and having outgrown this retarded behaviour...but you know what? I was hitting clubs in NYC when I was 22-25...and doing it with vigor. And even then...they were saying that same shit. And I hated it THEN. So, I ask...when will it stop? Do DJ's not evolve with their abilities to communicate with the club crowd? Is it not possible for someone to write a manual intended for DJ's that will teach them a new way to act cheesy and gay?

And is this a stupid question? If you are working a turntable...in a club where its really dark...what is the reason for wearing dark sunglasses? Doesn't that just make your job harder? I would like to inform all you 'trying to look cool DJ's that insist on wearing dark shades when you are working.'...you don't look cool. In fact, you look utterly ridiculous. That is your one freebie from the Monkey.

I don't know...I guess that was it. Just a lot of reflecting last night. On who I am. Where I've been in my life, and where I am going. That and then later trying to get my nutso wife home without her killing me for doing something that she will never remember the next day. Yeah, it was a weird night, and the whole time I'm sitting there I'm thinking 'Wow, I am going to go home and write maybe the funniest blog ever.' So...I know, this probably isn't my funniest ever...but it felt like it would maybe rate up there when I started thinking about it last night. Maybe you found some humor in here. Maybe not. But I am not offering up any apologies.

Oh I forgot some things...some things that are coming to me now. But I don't care now. I've given you enough. And I'm tired. And Squirrel is tired of hearing me peck away on this keyboard. And I have to pee really bad. So this is it. Good night and farewell. Maybe I will see some of you at the IP tomorrow night. Maybe not.

MONKEY