Every time I shave off my goatee, I win something. Did it the other day, got 2nd in the Omaha at Nugget. Pretty sure I am about to shave it off again and hit the pool.
Big shout out to my buddy from Sacramento, Mike Husa...who rolled down here for the weekend with his gorgeous wife Wendy...then went over to Venetian...bought in for $350 with 500+ other mutants...and took 2nd last night after 2 days and 23 grueling hours. A nice little 21k score for the Mentalist!
Here's a nice little reality check. Rolled over to the nightly at Aria last night for their nightly. In 'Ivey's Room' they were playing 400/800 Mixed game. There was easily half a million on the table. Mike Matusow was there, as were some other online poker hotshots. And here I am in a $120 nightly...grinding to win $3000. My dreams were dashed, once again...with two tables left when I raised UTG with AA...and this lady in the BB decides to ship 44 on me. She had me covered barely, so when I called and watched her flop quads...I just started laughing...hell what else COULD I do? Just the way I've been running this whole trip.
"Nice hand ma'am, good luck."
Earlier in the day I was the Nugget playing their noon PLO 8-or better, hoping to make another score in Omaha. I sit down and there is this guy, of course I've never seen him in my life, but he would have everyone think he was the most popular player in the world. And most successful. Like a couple other people I know, his favorite thing to do was to yell out 'POT' every hand. And when I say every hand...I am not exaggerating. I arrived in Level 3, secretly hoping that clowns like this guy would have managed to eradicate themselves early...and I would just be playing against 'real' players.
But honestly, why would I ever run that good? Lets be real here. So I decided to actually try and play smart against this freak. He would be 'potting' and I would be smooth calling with hands like A-2-4-K. And would I ever hit? Of course not. It would be met with flops like Q-Q-2-9. Hmmm..yeah, then he would pot the flop.
I'm not sure how he figured out that I was hating him like taxes...since I had my iPod on (due to the three chip rifflers at my table and his annoying yapping) but he somehow managed to. At the first break my 12k was down to 6800 and I hadn't won a single hand. Lookin good Monk....lookin good!
But then we come back...and I catch fire. Then with A-2-3-k double suited...I actually decide to raise, but not POT. What is it with these bozos who like hollering out 'pot' every hand? I mean...isn't the object of the game to get everyone's chips? How do you plan on doing that, especially early, when you price everyone out of every hand? So stupid. Or how about the guy who likes to pot the flop with 5 players after flopping the nut low with a nut draw for the high? Hey....why get a bunch of money in there through some gentle finessing of the pot, when you can just slam a pot bet in there and get everyone to fold? Just idiotic. I mean...its not THAT hard to figure out, is it? Maybe it is.
So I get this guy to POT on me...I call. Flop comes K-2-2. Full house. And backdoor draw to the nut low. He pots. I move all in. He calls with A-A-5-10. Hmmm. Interesting. I hold, double up to well over 20k...and seem to be on my way.
I will just cut to the chase. I pick up A-2-Q-Q and raise from 300-600....I don't pot...nope, I make it 1500. And, over to stupid in the BB....he calls...with 2-9-K-10. Yes...I know, its Omaha...but again...there is that pesky K10 again. So whent he flop comes Q-9-J...rainbow...I have no problem betting 2200 after he checks to me.
"POOOOOTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!"
Now, understand...I am acutely aware that he could very easily have K10 here. I am also aware that he could have nothing, as he has had SEVERAL times already after potting on people. And since I had flopped top set, I was willing to gamble, hope he had nothing, or hope I filled up...and whacked this annoying piece of crap. So I shipped on him. He couldn't call fast enough...must be K10. Yep. Straight. And...he starts talking shit.
"Dude, you called my raise with 2-9-K-10..yeah...you're awesome man. Nice play."
I didn't improve. I was left with 1000 chips. Which I got in on the next hand with A-2-J-10. This lady...who, ughhhh...there's a whole story there too but I'm going to leave it alone (or am I?) pots it with A-3-K-10. I lose...flop a nut low draw...then brick it out. And get to listen to flappy run his mouth some more. I said nothing. Why bother? Who cares?
The lady who knocked me out? Oh boy was she a piece of work. She had to have weighed, easily, 400 lbs. Pretty sure she had facial hair. Her hair looked like someone cut the end off a mop, dyed it black and dropped it on her head. She was there playing in the LIPS tourney...and was wearing a black shirt with red, glittery lips on it. You know who she reminded me of? Remember Tony Soprano's sister Janice? Her...only fatter, and more annoying. She too wouldn't shut the hell up. She was one of those women who after they raise, strike up the nervous, mindless banter...why? Why do people do that? Its so stupid. To throw us off? Then...she pots it after the flop...other guy folds...and she gives that tense, awkward chuckle laugh. You know what I'm talking about. I am imagining myself, or someone else for that matter, on the deck of the whaling ship....firing a harpoon off the bow. Fwwwwwoooooooooooop!!!! Arrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Zoinks. That was graphic.
On the subject of obesity...I am noticing a disturbing trend...and now that I have shed almost 11 lbs (thanks to Celexa cutting into my raging 24hr a day appetite) and am returning to the Planet of the Skinny's (not a reference to you, Skinny from Birmingham) I feel I am now entitled to speak on this subject. It used to be when you came to Vegas that everyone was attractive, and fit. Not so anymore. As I walk through the casinos...and I don't just mean the IP, I'm talking all of them...even the upper crust ones like Aria, Wynn, Venetian and Bellagio...as I walk down the sidewalks....everyone is getting fat. Even the girls who are...mmm...attractive, are now getting fatter and fatter....muffin tops everywhere...cellulite creeping up the backs of legs...its running rampant...and yes, a lot of that can be attributed to the current fashions, the stuff some these girls are wearing just highlight their flaws. But when I am walking by the buffet, and people who are easily 100 to 200 lbs OVERweight are lined up....waiting...WAITING TO PAY BIG MONEY AND EAT (I never understand that, I will NEVER wait in a line to eat!) to get to that trough and load their face....wow, it makes me sick. I look at myself in the mirror, and see what I think is a beer gut, and it makes me not want to eat for three days. I think at some point...these people just stop giving a damn. Like...they cross over some magical line, and then its just a contest to see how far off the deep end they can go. Is that possible? Or their mate somehow starts to find it sexy.
"Get fatter, sweety! Get fatter! Do it! I love it!"
So they do. Weird. Granted...my own wife thinks she's getting fat. Ha! I've never been happier with her body, because well...as she has added what? Maybe 6 to 8 lbs to her frame...she has made noticeable gains in areas I deem to be "awesome." But I guess its a good thing that she thinks she is getting fat at least. At least she is conscience of it, right? I mean, what was I watching the other day? Some stupid talk show...where this guy was mind fucking his girlfriend into getting fatter...slipping shit into her drinks...because he was so afraid of her getting skinny, more attractive, and leaving him. Wow, thats pretty screwed up, right?
Okay. I'm off that subject I guess.
The IP has this pit of games where all the dealers are music impersonators...Elvis, Michael Jackson, Witney Houston, Christina Aguillera, Celine Dion....others I can't remember. A lot of guys who come over to visit me comment on it when they get to my room. Its kind of a running joke. But the other night, I was sitting there playing Texas Hold Em Bonus for a while (cashed out with a HUGE profit of $35!) and took the time to actually watch them. Most of them are lip-synching but some of them are actually singing. The Elvis dude was singing...and some of them are pretty damn good. The Michael Jackson guy wasnt signing, but his dancing was pretty spot on. I had to admit, in this world of mine...where very little makes me smile or interests me, I was actually entertained.
My maids, despite the DO NOT DISTURB sign that is always on my door, have now walked into my room...after one tiny peck knock...and me just finally getting tired of having to manufacture the energy to yell out "Not yet I'm still sleeping"...have now invaded a total of 16 of the 19 days I have been here. Finally today...with me sleeping in the nude...since my buddy Don is at home for the week...they came in again...I was on top of my comforter. I heard the tiny knock...heard the door open...and just laid there...ready to give her a shock...and then I hear her little feet scamper away to the door! It kind of made my day, before even getting up!
Congratulations to the Chicago Blackhawks. Watched the victory parade...was I imagining things or did one of their players get up on the podium and attempt to drop some impromptu rap song on the crowd? Pretty sure I heard that, and pretty sure I was embarrassed for his whole team and family.
Great series going on with the Celtics and Lakers. Back to LA now with the Lakers needing to win both for back-to-back titles. Or lose to the Celtics and go to what? 2 and 9 vs. Boston in the Finals in their history? Rough.
Huge accidental goal in USA vs. England the other day. Nice start to the World Cup for the Yanks. Its pretty cool being in Vegas during the World Cup...since there are so many people from all over the world here, you really get a true flavor of how big this event is. And whats even cooler, is that the final will be played on July 11th, which is 4 days before I leave this place.
The weather is freaking me out. One day its 106 degrees. Then one night it gets down to 48 degrees. Yesterday it was only 76 degrees. Then we have days where the wind is blowing like a tropical storm, minus the rain. Today...it looks about 80 with no wind. Perfect for spending at the pool, reading the David Balducci novel, "Absolute Power" which became a movie starring Clint Eastwood. Its his first novel...of about 17...of which I purchased all of. I have a solid two years of reading material in the hopper now.
My buddy Frank Kassela, who won a bracelet in the Stud 8-or better the other day, called me the other day after I texted him. We discussed my 'problem' with the WSOP and Rio...and since he has known Jack Effel from his days in Tunica...since Jack went to Ole Miss and Frank is from Memphis, I thought perhaps he could work some magic. He said he would talk to him about it. I have heard nothing back. Not that I really expect much...but you never know. Never hurts to ask, or make the attempt.
By the way...the other day at Binions, I had perhaps the most annoying player of all time at my table. He was adamant that I write about him here. Why? I don't know. That just kind of adds to the specter I guess of why he was so annoying. I faintly recognized his face, but couldn't place it. He filled me in. I guess I felted him in one of the Venetian events I won last summer (boy does that feel like years ago) when he tried to run a bluff on me. He was that guy who insisted on raising behind two or more limpers, or three betting a raiser with absolute junk. Also was very fond of showing the bluff. He did that about 4 times. He had the facial characteristics of a ferrett...an over-weight ferrett. I was texting a buddy about him when he replied back..."is there a bounty coming?"
I am hereby letting the poker world know...I will no longer be placing bounties on ANYONE. Why? Because...now people expect it of me. They all, apparantly, expect me to freak out at everything. I am viewed as someone who can be rattled. So from now on...you will pretty much get nothing from me. No bounties, no verbiage. Like the jackass yesterday in the Omaha tourney...never said a word to the guy, well, until the very end. Biting my tongue from now on. Plus...I am almost certain I don't even want to talk to people anymore. Because as I watch 'The Ferrett' and others like him run their pie-hole, it dawns on me that if I am even partially viewed as being like these people when I am chatting up the table...its just not worth it. I know there are those of you who think I am funny, that I add zeal to the table when I am in 'my zone' but the ramifications just don't make it worth it anymore. Its not my job to entertain the table. Its not my responsibility to make sure players had the most fun they've ever had in a poker tourney. Nope. Not when there is that ONE person who is offended. Not when there is that ONE floor person watching me like a petri dish in biology class...for anything that might signal that I am acting 'inappropriately.'
So yeah...sorry poker world. Sorry to you who love me for my 'antics' which to me were just endemnic of 'having a good time' but which to others was the signalling of a guy 'trying to humiliate and run off potential customers.' I have nothing to gain anymore by having a good time. No sir...my sole reason now for being at the poker table is to simply get all of your chips. Period. As long as artists keep coming out with good music, and my pill bottle stays full...I will sit in my chair, put on my glasses, and my headphones...and get about my business of taking you down. Sorry...but I'm pretty sure you all know who to thank for turning me into this guy.
And to the Ferrett, who I am sure is looking here every day to see if you got mentioned in my blog...I say this: Maybe you are an okay guy, though I doubt I would ever sit down with you over drinks. You are actually a decent player, fearless, and willing to make moves at the right time. You have some Tom Dwan in you. You get deep a lot. I respect that about you. But the drivel that you spew at the table, and the showing of the bluffs...and that obnoxious laugh of yours...make you the kind of poker player that everyone is going to go out of their way to bust. So when you take a bad beat or fifty...because people wanted to bust you so bad because they hate you....you know why it happened.
Which makes me wonder...hmmm...maybe, just maybe, that is why some of these assholes who have busted me with absolute complete garbage knocked ME out...because...I wasn't entertaining to them. I wasn't funny. I wasn't a good guy. I was a dick. Who they hated. Who they wanted off their table. Interesting. As much as I think I am a good guy, with a good heart, who means well...I am misinterpreted by some...maybe many. And it has hurt my game. So, with that in mind...yes, this moment to grasp perspective has shined down on my head...I will enter into this new era of being the ultra-quiet guy with little to contribute to any table conversation...and see how that works out for me. Afterall, I do believe I am a good enough player to simply survive on skill alone.
I believe that is enough for today. Its noon and the pool is calling. I was supposed to hook up with Kai Landry today at his pool at the Rio...but, oh DAMN...I was going to include this photo he sent me last night...he was sitting at the Rio playing cash game until, I suspect, very late...and seated at his table was an incredibly attractive, older...very sexy woman who he couldn't stop looking at...and at the other side of the table the scariest, most obvious looking trannie he'd ever seen. The pictures were great. But I deleted them. Dammit. So I suspect...and yes...its just been confirmed by his text message...that he is painfully hungover today.
Hope you are all having a nice day.
BP SUCKS!!!!!!
Monkey
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