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Saturday, December 18, 2010

Update from Bizarrrrro World....

Oh what the hell, why not shoot you folks a blog! Sure it's 2am..but who cares? Nothing to play til 1pm tomorrow anyway. Yup. One shot at the Main event...that is all we are taking. Would I have liked to have kept my bankroll hovering around a healthy figure so I could take the 2nd shot if the need arised by playing a handful of SNG's like usual? Sure I would. But since I have done nothing after my first cash in the first event besides run into aces over and over and head downstairs for the 8pm'er and sometimes the midnight funfest....I am slowly running out of money on this trip.

I have a very bad feeling that this Regional Main Event is going to draw about 110-125 players max. Compared to the 272 they drew in Chicago/Hammond. They held $550 satellites at 1pm and 7pm all week. Only problem? No one showed up for them, and they all got cancelled. Hate to say it, but the 20 to 1 shot never really attracts much of a field. What they should have had was 10-15 tables set up for SNG's...from $125/$180/$225/$525 and $1080 for people to do the 'work your way up to a Main Event seat' program that we have all partaked in since we started doing this circuit poker thing.

Coupled with the thing starting 5 days before Christmas...it could be a real bummer of a turnout. Which...if I happen to snap off the Mega tomorrow, wouldn't hate, actually. Be a lot easier to make the Final Table...which would end my year with a nice score, and clinch a spot in the National Freeroll.

Watching Inside Edition in my room after again ordering room service at the ridiculous hour of 2am. Deborah Norville is still hot. How old must she be?

There was some lady on there who got stabbed 23 times and didn't die. We got to see her testifying in court. Her obviously pre-rehearsed, rambling testimony to the judge got me to wondering: How do you stab someone 23 times and they live? I mean...how bad of a stabber are you? You gotta be the worse stabber in history. Guy deserved to spend the rest of his life in jail.

Mike Vick is excited to get a pet dog, so he can prove to everyone that he isnt a monster, I guess. Well...of course, PETA is having a conniption fit. Pretty sure I just mispelled that word, and I don't care. I am a huge dog lover as most of you know...and reference my labs pretty often. But sometimes, I have to say...PETA is over-the-top ridiculous. I mean...I get it if Ed Gein, Jeffery Dahmer and John Wayne Gacy want to move into that house for rent next to the 'Little Rascals' Daycare Center....and people freak out. I get that. But I'm pretty sure 'Ol Mike isn't about to fire back up the Bad Newz Fighting Kennel anytime soon.

Customer service. One of my favorite words. Step up to window. Put money on counter. "I need your ID" Present my backup liscense. Why? My original/current liscense was lost yesterday. Hassle ensues. Despite having played about every damn tourney in this casino the last two weeks. Lady won't register me. Find help in the tourney director. Go back to register. Lady at window apologizes for the misunderstanding. Old hag at back counter...making no attempt to be 'low key' serves up this gem:

"You dont have to apologize to him! You're just doing your job!"

Incredible. Some guy about 5 ft 6 walks behind our table. Our table is pushed up against a wall. Not a real heavy traffic area. He catches his foot on the strap of my 'man purse.' Makes a big production out of it. Asks the woman next to me if its hers. Nope. It's mine.

"Well, you are going to HAVE to put that UNDER YOUR CHAIR! That is a RULE at this casino...the last thing I need happening is someone tripping and killing themselves. So do it now, please!"

I just looked at him....realized how good my new medicine is working, and said "You got it, sir." Then when he left the rest of the table started clowning him.

I have been looking all over for Snookie and The Situation and have yet to find them. However, I haven't lost hope. I keep thinking I've found them...but its always just someone who looks and acts like them. I have 3 or 4 days left, don't give up on me yet.

It snowed here the other day. I thought that was pretty special. I went outside on the backside of the casino and did some snow angels on a 10-minute break. People laughed at me. Not because of the snow angels. Because I was wearing flip flops.

Today in the 8pm nightly...Damian...AKA the Crazy Serbian shows up...and needs a place to stay. My roomie for this trip, Jimmy, decided to go home early. I had a vacancy. Fine. You can stay with me. At 400/800 he raises under the gun. I wake up with AA on the button. I make it 3900...look at him and shake my head. Big blind almost calls or ships, but folds. Damian folds. Wisely. Three orbits later...I raise under the gun with KK and really needing a nice pot, as we were down to 15 players in a super fast structure. Guess what my new roomie wakes up with?

Do you remember the last blog? Old dork on the beach with the metal detector? Picture him again...cuz that old bastard just found AA again. Its becoming a joke.

So I came up to my room and started investigating upcoming tournaments. Started looking at the structures for the Beau Rivage events starting in January. Pretty sure they look better than the last event. I'm not wild about the Stud structure, but I do really like the Omaha 8 or better structure...a LOT. In fact, I'm pretty sure I will skip the first $550 and play the Omaha tourney at 4pm on that first day.

I kind of am expecting a decent turnout for the Beau Rivage event. Not sure why, just have that gut feeling. I hope I'm right. If I'm not, and the fields are small, I might have to bust a move and head to Choctah, Oklahoma. But I am really rooting for big fields on the home turf...and staying home with the Squirrel and my dogs.

What the hell is Tyler Smith eating? I need to find out and order a lifetime supply of whatever it is. Dude is out of control. Way to go Tyler. Now what I would like to see is him and I going out to Rio...me being allowed back in...and ripping up the World Series next summer.

In last night's nightly...there was this guy next to me...short dude, lots of angst. Generally a nice guy...but you could tell he had a very short fuse. Its so funny in Atlantic City...you just see shit here that you will never...I mean, ever see anywhere else. Well, this guy lost it. It started, well, in fairness, I should say the dealer kind of instigated it. I don't understand why some dealers have to be such absolute douchebags sometimes. And this guy...its bad enough that he looks like a big fish. Or one of those fat little gangster thugs from the Jimmy Cagney era. He is one of those dealers who lives to find a rule violator. You know that guy right?

So he is already snapping at a couple of other players at the table when the guy next to me decides to call someone's all-in. He takes his chips...like 5100 or something and fires them into the middle, but they skid and kind of collide with the pot...or, as some like to call it, 'Splashed the Pot.' So the dealer whigs. Now the little guy loses it. They get into a big shouting match. Floor comes over. And he handled it as well as he possibly could. But now the little dude was freaking out. Well, he ends up getting a 10 minute penalty. Freaks out some more. Goes outside into the snowy night air...figured that would cool him off.

Nope. He comes back from break...sits down, and...I can't make this up....fires off this one:

"Hey...table...who here doesn't think what that old piece of shit did was fucked up!!!???"

We all just looked at each other...as if to ask each other "Did that seriously just happen?"

It was akin to walking through the scanner at the TSA inspection area in the airport and hollering out....

"Today is the day I fuck up an airplane! I am carrying 14 grenades and am wired with dynamite! Who feels like screwing with me!!!????"

Anyone wanna guess what happened next? Oh yeah...you guessed it. Bye Bye little man. He was booted. I mean...how completely retarded can you possible be?

Wow. 3am and check this out...Jerry Springer is on. Awesome...cuz for a minute there I was starting to feel bad about my life.

About three days ago...I am exiting my elevator. There is a little kid about 4 or 5 wanting his mom to throw him this little jell ball. She wouldn't. I took a pass from him...and threw it back to him. Little boy smiled. Mom smiled. It was a special, happy moment. Made me feel good walking to the tourney.

I sit down at my table. About five minutes in I am listening to the stupidest armchair quarterback on the planet Earth talk about all the reasons why the Miami Heat won't compete for the NBA title this year. Setting the tone here...this guy was about 62 years old, severely overweight, white..and was clearly never a world-class athlete. But he seems to have the psychology of sports all figured out and how teammates work together. Yeah...aparantly, the Heat has too many players with big egos. I listened to this guy babble for about 7 minutes and 23 seconds and finally just snapped.

I didn't do or say anything inappropriate. I think I just conjured up something guaranteed to just shut the guy up but send him reeling trying to figure out what exactly I just said. One of those occasions when I just find a collection of big words and glue them together in the form of a sarcastically delivered tirade. Its my version of the long-range sniper hit with an infrared scope. They have no idea what hit them or where it came from.

About this time, the guy in the 7 seat...who knocked me out the other day with his 9-10 when I had the AQ and bet 3/4 of Mt. Everest at him before he gut shotted me on the river for the rest of my glacial till....shoots this one at me:

"Without a doubt you are the most miserable mother fuc*** I have ever seen in my life."

Several things dawned on me after he said that. I had no witty comeback for him. Instead I just reflected on the statement. Hmmm. Then I just decided that either he didn't know very many people, or he was just very quick to come to conclusions. Ice slowly melted. We shared a break together outside on the dock. Discovered we have quite a bit in common...shared several cocktails together in the nightly...and now John McGuinness and I are like old college buddies. Pretty hilarious how almost all of my solid 'poker-buddy' experiences start out.

My bowl pool starts tomorrow. Right now I have 129 people with picks. Last year we got 139. Year before that we got 152. In 2008, the year I won...we got 122. I like breaking records. I have something to root for when I wake up I guess. I have 6 entries this year. What does that make my odds?

I am going to bed now. The tortellini was really good. The sweet potato fries were the most amazing damn sweet potato anything I've ever eaten. But there is still NOTHING on this planet better than beef jerky.

Good night.

MONKEY

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