Fall Can't Get Here Soon Enough...

The dog days of summer are truly upon us. Our political idiots are battling to see who can wrestle away control of power in the White House. There is a storm brewing out in the Gulf...that could possibly threaten those bozos who have an elephant as their mascot. Which, if you are an Alabama fan...has to really be taken as an insult. Who knows, it might even come visit us here in Biloxi...and threaten to cancel (again) the Gulf Coast Poker Championship.

Our country is mired in its worst drought in 60 years. The Mississippi River is at its lowest level in ages. Gas is now closer to $4 than $3...which is another clear signal to me that the Republicans are going to win the Presidency. Seems that when the oil industry wants the incumbent to win...they tickle consumers' fancies by artificially lowering the price of gas leading up to the election. So by sending the price skyrocketing...you can only conclude that they are manipulating the price in order to piss off the feeble minded who vote with their wallets.

My fantasy baseball team...with only two weeks left til the playoffs...just had two players hit the DL, one released, and one suspended 50 games for PED abuse. All this and I need to make up a gap that will require nothing short of a miracle to go from the 11th ranked team out of 20 to one of the top 8. Not very likely.

So I have turned my attention to....what else? Football season! I mean is it just me? Or does football season not cure a lot of those things that ail us? The only small hiccup I am having leading into and up to football season, is my inability this year to get my fantasy leagues quickly sold out. I suppose this could be partially to blame on increasing my league dues. Are there really that many people broke? I have 4 leagues. I have ONE spot left in my $200 league that is a Head-to-Head league. The draft is tomorrow night! I have 3 spots in the other $200 Head-to-Head league...it drafts on Sunday night. Then in my Big Money League...a $400 league...we draft on Monday...and have 12 full, with 4 openings. My last league...a $200 rotisserie league...has only sold 8 teams...and I changed the draft from tomorrow at 2pm to Tuesday at 8pm..in hopes of adding some more teams. If you have any interest...hit me up! ThePokerMonkey1@aol.com

So...the IP event has come and gone. A lot of good friends and acquaintances fared well. It was a predictably under-attended event...which I guess made it great for those guys chasing Freeroll points. Or rings. A few guys who won: Caufman Talley, Blake Barousse...and Kyle Cartwright. Congrats boys. For those trying to figure out which rumor to believe as to why I was unceremoniously denied entry to the IP...you can go with the one that suggested I was a victim of overly expressing my disdain towards a certain floor person who, instead of focusing on his job of running a poker room...decided to make 'iPad Nazi' his call of duty...which resulted in me kind of snapping on him. I suppose I probably should have just blinked twice, like a patient at a loony bin who just took his medication...uttered the words 'yes sir' and put my iPad back in its messenger bag.  Which would have meant he'd have gone back to his rock...to perch, lurk, and prey on someone else. Instead of watching me getting a massage and concocting a tale that I was guilty of inappropriate behavior.

It's really gotten beyond annoying what some of these people will do. I literally gave some thought to a lawsuit against the IP for defamation. Because...while I was TOLD by a person in management that I was being kept out because of my blow up over the iPad usage and the perceived 'disrespect' I showed him...it was the more dramatic scenario that has had everyone talking, and even a couple of you jackasses, that either did this with ill intent, or are just THAT stupid. Going up to my WIFE? At the Beau...and telling her "hey, Squirrel, that sucks that Monkey got thrown out of IP for touching a massage girl."

So...the deal is this. My wife had a conversation with the massage girl, and her boss. She is quite convinced that I was not tossed for anything 'inappropriate' with the massage girl. In talking to the manager for those girls...it was shared with me that never, in the years of doing this...has a manager from a poker room ever interfered in a customer/massage situation. That if there IS inappropriate 'touching'...which I'm told, does happen on occasion, the girls usually deal with it themselves...by simply telling them they aren't permitted to touch them. And if they persist, they will stop the massage. Period. Add to this, the fact that I know most of these girls quite well...know that they know I'm married, most of whom know my wife...and it's just stupid.

So basically what it did was completely piss me off. Then the manager over there just sends me a very terse, and brief 4 sentence email telling me...in very vague and ambiguous terminology "due to the incident in the poker room the other night, I have no choice but to 86 you at this time. Not doing so could result in me losing my job." Ahhh...touche. So when I responded by asking WHAT INCIDENT? No response. Get it? Yeah...it means he can allege one or the other. Whichever one is most convenient.

What's not convenient...is that I have a bunch of little jacktards running all over the place shooting their mouths off that I was 86'd for groping a massage girl. Of course I asked him a few obvious questions...like did he check the surveillance tapes before making this decision? But...see, the massage girl scenario was just a smokescreen. I guess he didn't want to just come out and tell me he was whacking me because I snapped on the simpleton running the poker room that night. The one who...despite having me in his poker room for 7 years and before that at the Grand...and NEVER going by anything other than Will or Monkey....still calls me 'Corey' which is what it says on my license. Corey! Way to know your customers. I picture this guy going home...and his house folding up into a ball and sinking 27 feet into the Earth.

On another, yet somewhat related, note...I found it pretty amusing that handfuls of circuit players were leaving the IP in droves after busting out of the tourneys over there when they discovered after sitting down in the cash room, that they couldn't use their iPads or iPhones at the table. I'm sure all that extra income they let walk out the door wasn't missed, right? And for what reason? Because a couple of old geezers who play there a lot bitched and bitched about the iPads until they finally convinced the pea-brained management to make ALL electronic devices illegal in their poker room?

Want some more drama? Oh...I have drama today. So...a lot of people have asked me "Have you tried to get back into the Beau, Monkey?" And to most of them, I have responded by telling them..."no, I have not...and really have no desire to even try." Why? I will tell you why. Because as long as I leave it alone...and don't ask...I know I won't have to provide anyone with another reason to disappoint me. So...after trying to get a benefit tourney together (for Casey Jones) at the Beau for this event that started today...a few people who work there asked me if I was going to try to get reinstated. Finally...I decided to try.

So I call Johnny Grooms' office phone, after a dealer there told me that Grooms had indicated I could call his office if I wanted to talk to him. So I did. I got voice mail, once, twice then three times. On the third time, I left a message. It wasn't returned. I told one of the employees on Facebook about this. This employee then went and talked to him on my behalf. He told her he had NOTHING to do with my 86..that if I wanted to get reinstated I had to contact Eric Newton, the Security Manager over there. Sigh. Okay. Another hoop. I call Eric Newton. I get intercepted...by a rather hostile black lady. "Does he know why you calling? Is this about reinstatement?? He's not available right now! Did you write a letter yet? You HAVE to write a letter!!!"  Um...yeah...okay. Great. Another hoop. 

So I write a very short letter. Figure in these situations, the less you say, the better. Although I was never GIVEN a reason why I was 86'd in the first place....even after writing to him and asking for one a year and a half ago...I apologized for my (apparently) abhorrent behavior in the past, and that any future visits would be handled more professionally. I had Squirrel deliver this letter when she went to work. And shockingly...I got a quick call from Eric's assistant. The conversation started very optimistically. 

"Hello, is this Will Souther?" Yes. "Hi there! This is ________ Mr. Newton's assistant at the Beau Rivage in the Security Department. How are you today!?" Hmmm...whenever someone sounds chipper and asks how you are today...isn't that usually a reason to get...I don't know, excited? Like good news is coming next? Yeah well...maybe in YOUR life...but not in my fucked-up, backwards-ass existence. That was just another one of those...'watch-me-pump-this-guy-up-just-so-I-can-drop-him-30-stories-to-the-ground' experiences. Because the next thing out of her mouth was the kick in the balls.

"Mr. Newton got your letter this morning...and after reviewing it has decided NOT to lift your 86 at this time."

Oh. Perfect. "By any chance, did he happen to give a reason?" "No, he didn't. You can write him again and request that if you'd like?"  Oh. Really? Funny...but I've already done that several times...and have yet to ever get a reason, let alone a letter even telling me why I'm not allowed on property. 

So...what's my conclusion on this deal? Honestly? I have none. Why bother even trying to hypothesize about the why's? I'm just so sick of the pathetic pettiness that persists in poker. The dishonesty that exists. I mean...so many people hide behind the image of others to avoid exposing themselves. I have a friend who has been kicked out of the Beau as much or more than I have. Last year, he was kicked out and barred from all MGM properties. How did he get back in? Oh...turns out he plays a considerable amount in the pit. So guess what? The Director of Table Games decided he merited reinstatement. Ahhh...see how that works? It's not about fairness. Its about who is the biggest degenerate. So, I guess if I had a monster craps/blackjack/roulette habit...I would have NO trouble getting back in there. 

Want to hear something else that is beyond fucked up? Every Saturday...the Beau spends what has to be more money than they make...to bus in (from Atlanta and New Orleans) 28...yes, twenty-eight...busses filled with the absolute bottom of the barrel that the world has to offer. They arrive at noon. They have 4 hours to do nothing but play penny slots (if they actually happened to have brought money, which a lot of them haven't) and mooch as many free drinks as they possibly can...until being herded back onto the busses and shipped back to whatever ghetto they came from.

These people sit around...loitering basically, and pester the waitresses for drinks. Free drinks. Drinks that they never tip for. Never a 'please.' Never a 'thank you.' Just...'GIMME'...or 'GET ME'...or 'I WANNA' ...and if it doesn't come fast enough, they bitch about it. Never a tip. Never. Hundreds of them. Yeah...my wife has had to take care of these beasts. She used to work swing shift...and didn't have to face these piranha's. But she heard the horror stories from the other girls. I'm sure she believed them...and felt sorry for them...but like anything in life, until you've walked a mile in someone's shoes...you have no idea how rocky that journey was. Well...she has now walked the journey!

She has come home almost in tears. When she told me about this...I was furious. One guy kept calling her 'woman!' "Hey woman! I need a drink. Get me a damn drink!" The guy wasn't gaming. She told him she couldn't serve him if he wasn't gaming. He still badgered her. Finally she brought him the gin on ice he was hollering for. He complained that it looked like it had water in it. Well, the other 35 drinks on her tray...and the amount of time it took to deliver them, likely resulted in some of that ice melting. Into water. He tells her he wants his NEXT one to be just ice. Then tells her he would tip her...except that he didn't bring any money.  

Four hours of this. This occurs every Saturday. Why? Why would you bus these low lives into your casino? I mean, they are real good at policing people with baseball caps on backwards, and upholding a dress code at their club...but these people are not only welcomed...but TRANSPORTED at the Casino's cost...so that they can suck down as many free drinks as possible, while berating and abusing the staff. I owned and managed a few bars and restaurants in my past...and if I EVER had a customer talk to, or treat one of my employees the way these assholes treat these girls? Holy shit. They would be out on their ear and banned for life. But not these freaks. They are invited back...again and again. 

How does my wife and all her other co-workers deal with this without snapping? I have no idea. I am personally not capable of dealing with that bullshit. Life is too short to ever be expected to deal with that crap. But somehow...my wife does it. I guess to a lot of people who ask her 'how do you put up with Monkey?' Well...now you see what she has to put up with, so dealing with me? Crumbs.

But oh! I get tossed a year and a half ago why? Because some guy who has a high-ranking players card...didn't like that I put a bad beat on his wife...who clearly had a screw loose, who tried to get me to engage in a shouting match with him at a later tourney table...which I refused to do...simply went to his casino host, told him there was a player he had a major problem with (ME!) and that if I wasn't kicked out of the poker tournament, they would lose his business forever. It was this guy wanting to test how much power he had. A little short fucker...you know the types...it seems like its always the little short assholes that seem to want to topple me. Why? I'm really sorry I'm 6'4 255 sir. Genetics. Doesn't mean you have to go all Napoleon complex on me. 

But they do. So...here is me, a guy who promotes the events, who plays ALL the events, who is friendly with 90% of the players...who takes care of the staff while I'm there....and I am seen as 'undesirable?' Honestly? If someone running a casino would rather have the scum of society in their casino every Saturday...treating their staff like shit...but find ME undesirable? Why in the HELL would I ever want to give them my business in the first place?

It's embarrassing that I would even attempt to get back into the place. But shit. I have a baby now. That I desire to stay home with, and see her grow up. And poker is my chosen profession. So it's kind of an important factor that I be able to play in the local casinos. I mean...it would help. But whatever. Sacrifices will be made. I will take 12-day odysseys to other locales, and try to find success there. I will continue to root for success in my other side businesses. And as usual...I will sit and wait for that day my dad calls and tells me they FINALLY started drilling on our family's 660 acres of oil land in North Dakota.

See...the 'business' of poker has more or less sucked the life...and the spirit, right out of me. I feel like there is more negativity circulating in the poker world, that people just thirst for scandal, and creating drama. Look no further than 2+2 for proof of that. I was on there the other day because I was trying to post info on how to donate to Casey Jone's Fund. Of course...it was quickly taken down...I guess because maybe they forbid posting things that solicit. But while there I viewed a couple of posts...and was just flabbergasted how (a) evil and (b) totally ignorant the comments were. I just really don't find the makeup of most poker players to be very desirable. I mean...its almost automatic that I sit down at a cash table and within 5 minutes hate about 80% of the players at the table. Or have found some reason to hope they choke to death on a bowl of spaghetti.

Rest in Peace, Casey Jones......you will be missed.

I know I'm coming off really negatively today. You know what? I don't care. And frankly...its been a shitty week. Casey passed away. And a small part of me just wonders what percentage of his death was brought on by the constant, irritating pettiness that came with having to deal with those jackasses all summer in the 2pm Deepstacks tourneys. I heard all the horror stories from the dealers, even players...and other floor people. How, out of all the tourneys...it was the one that just sucked the life out of them. The utterly ridiculously stupid players...the way it sounded...was like it was one big baby-sitting assignment for Casey...as he was the guy who had to run that nuthouse every day. I got there towards the end of the summer...and on one break deep in that tourney...I had a chance to sit down and talk to him briefly. He seemed completely drained of energy...and emotion. But he didn't bitch. He just came off as a zombie. I knew why...I've seen that look on the faces of friends...mostly the ones who ran nightly tournaments. It's that shell-shocked look.  So yeah...maybe a small part of me blames the assholes of poker for Casey's early passing. And maybe that is a big reason why I got so involved in raising money for his medical bills and the care of his twin 3-year old girls. My attempt at overcompensating for the pricks of poker. Kind of like watching a bunch of rednecks leave a .75c tip at Waffle House on a $30 tab...after you watched the waitress run her ass off...and take all kinds of harassing. I mean...am I the only one who walks by that table and nonchalantly drops $5 on it? Please...tell me I'm not.

The other day I read a Facebook post by Charlie Townsend...who is one of the coolest, and funniest poker players I know. He also has an alter ego on Facebook...who is hilarious...basically all the things he WISHES he could say himself, but can't for political and other reasons...he does through his alter ego character. And NO...I'm not telling you who it is. I almost think my poker career would be better served by creating an alter ego to post my blogs as. But now it's probably too late. I think most of you now know my writing style so much that any attempt to write under a surname would be an epic fail.

So last week...Charlie posts on Facebook....Charlie, not his alter ego:

"what the hell is the deal with my eyebrows. 20 years ago, they just laid down like they were supposed to do, behaving like good little eyebrows. Now...for some damn reason, I have wild hairs shooting off in all different direction! WTF!???"

I laughed for about 23 minutes and 45 seconds. Mine have suddenly decided to do the same thing. And I ask. Why?

And why does it have to hurt so much to pluck your nose hairs? I mean its bad enough that God designed our bodies to start LOSING hair where you need it once you get over...well 40 for most (younger for some of the less fortunate) but to GAIN hair where you do NOT want it...like your back, your ears, and your damn nose, both inside AND out. Not only that...driving down the road, and trying to pluck those evil bastards out of your nose...so they will stop irritatingly tickle you all night...just leads to embarrassment, as the car full of 16 year olds on their way to see 'Glee-The Movie' just busted you...or think they have...picking your nose. Ah fuck. Whatever. So as if that isn't bad enough...your eyes are now watering from the pain. And the next day you get one of those incredibly painful zits or ingrown hairs or something...as a result of yanking those damn hairs. So what? Next time...you instead decide just to trim them. Great...so now its like you are grooming a carpet in your nose. Have I let this go too far? Probably.

I have to say...I am very proud of my Seattle Mariners. The worst team in baseball not too long ago...we traded away Ichiro to the Yankees...and have now won 13 of 15 games...including 8 in a row...and just watched Felix 'King' Hernandez take another step closer to the Hall of Fame with the first perfect game in team history. And now...people in the Northwest are even talking under their breath about our playoff chances? Hey...you never know. At any rate...its been fun to watch one of the youngest teams in baseball come together and improve so much. 

Can we finally, once and for all, get clarity on what IS actually allowed within the confines of the casino? Pictures? Allowed or not? We have all seen the signs that say...'No Flash Photography.' That one is easy to obey. Right? But how many millions of iPhone pictures get taken in the casino? You know the answer. A LOT! So...taking it one step further...as most of you know, I've had some 'issues' in the past posting the photos of fellow players on my blog. Due to the threats of personal threats and/or lawsuits, I was persuaded to stop posting their pics on my blog. Why? Because this is a publicly-viewed blog...that requires no permission to view. You don't have to be my friend. It's just OUT THERE! So okay...fair enough. And I have acquiesced. (sorry dumb-dumbs, big word alert...that one means 'gone along with, or in agreement with')

However. It is my belief...and understanding...that when we take a picture...of anything and/or anyone...and post it on our Facebook, or Twitter...we are not in violation of anything. It is our own, private little clubhouse...of our own friends and family members. Right? Extremely private. So I ask: when approached by a member of a casino staff, who tells you that your posting a photo of one of their 'customers' to your Facebook is in violation of some rule...how do you respond? I mean..is this a black and white issue? Keep in mind...it is very fun to clown some people who really DO deserve to be clowned. And to this I also ask...had this particular employee not been 'tipped off' by someone with an obvious axe to grind, or perhaps (as suspected, actually) a bored member of surveillance looking to add some excitement to their ultra-boring evening...who would have EVER been affected? I should think NO BODY...because the only ones seeing my post...are people I've INVITED to be able to see it...and they surely do not have a problem with it.

Do you see where I'm going? So yeah...this did happen the other night. And instead of defending my stance...I simply caved. "Yes sir...no problem...you got it." Did I like doing this? No, absolutely not...because I think they are totally in the wrong. But fuck it. I don't need another hassle.  But this whole 'Big Brother' someone-is-always-watching-everything-your-fucking-doing society of ours is seriously driving me to the verge of insanity. And I never really let it bother me when GW and Cheney were basically setting in motion the ability of our government (and everyone else it seems) to listen and watch EVERY little move we make without repercussion...because I didn't think I ever had anything to hide. 

 But shit...I guess when you think about it...slowly, little by little, all of our civil liberties are slowly but surely being eroded away and stolen from us. You feel me? So when these people try to tell us they're 'protecting the privacy' of their customers by policing our ability to share their 'image' with our personal, and private friends...who are they trying to kid? I mean...they are invading our privacy from the second we walk into their establishment. Am I nuts? Or is this common sense?

Regardless...the ability, or efforts I should say...by the casino/poker industry to stun gun me into submission and turn me into an unwritten rule abiding patron has been largely successful the past few years. Not because I think what they are trying to pull is 'right' per se...merely because I have grown exhausted of fighting what most of the time feels like a one-man battle. It's one thing to have people come up, pat you on the back, and tell you they agree with you. It's by far another...to have them actually line up behind you...in a show of force, to defend whatever point it is I or anyone like me is trying to make...to bring about change that benefits the players.

Okay. Good gawd. I am rambling now. And yeah...I know...for you visually stimulated cretins who likely haven't made it this far today...I didn't include any photos today. (okay, so I went back and inserted some) Maybe I will just drop one here so I can say you got to see something delightful. Maybe I won't. It's Friday night...and I suspect the Beau will have some overflow in their cash room tonight...that and the drunks at the Hard Rock are just irresistible to pass up.

Granted...just when I think I'm about to have an epic night at the cash table....like last night...when I got up to 1750...those same clowntards who flop bottom pair...and refuse to fold on the flop and/or turn and either river trips or their second pair...it can blow up in your face if you aren't careful...resulting instead in a losing session. But hey...I'm told by almost all of you...that we WANT those jokers in the game. That EVENTUALLY...we get their money. Oh! Sure...I sit there and watch not one...or two...but three dicktard luckboxes suckout half my stack...only to get up...rack up their chips, and LEAVE before that 'eventually phase' is allowed to play itself out. But...regardless...we are supposed to come out ahead in the end right? Because we have superior poker skills. Well...I shall attempt to put this to the test, again, tonight.

Oh...by the way...I either dreamed it, or just couldn't get to sleep last night...but I have come up with my 'package' for the next event I am going to play and sell shares for. The WSOP-C event in Shreveport/Bossier City. It's going to be kind of a cool set up. I am going to sell TWO separate packages. One will be the Main Event. And since they give you two shots at playing...I'm going to sell it twice. But if I only play the one time...they will get half back right away. I'm going to play the Main for 50%. For the rest of the events....I am going to sell for a set amount...which I haven't determined quite yet. But they will basically be in on EVERY tourney I play...nooners, afternooners, nightly's...everything. So obviously, there is a chance I will spend a LOT more than I raise. But it won't matter...they will be in for whatever percentage they bought...on EVERYTHING I play. And since everyone knows me, everyone follows my Facebook updates and Tweets....there won't be ANY way I can play something, win (or cash) and it NOT be known! Granted...most of you already know I'm not a douchebag...but for those who aren't 100% convinced, just thought I would address that obvious 'first question' posed by the 'always present' Mr Pessimist. I assume that I will likely sell all my shares to a large portion of this summer's Monkey's Gang of 30...but if there are any shares available I will be sure to publicize it in a couple weeks.

More venom! I hired a handyman in Pensacola. He was the son of my longtime handyman. I had a feeling it was a risk. Paying him in advance? Also felt like a big mistake. It was. He spent all my money. Now is telling me he can't finish. Actually went so far as telling me that he was up to 60...yeah...SIXTY hours billed so far. All he did was paint the interior of the house and a couple of odd jobs. Sixty hours. So, I have paid this clown $1200...and of the 22 things on my 'To Do' list, all of which he agreed to do for close to or under $1000....17 still remain unfinished. I am literally ready to kill this guy. If anyone has connections with any South American Death Squads...and they work for cheap...and only require half up front (I've learned my lesson about paying 100% up front) please put them in touch with me. I swear to God...I really, truly think there is an invisible sign hanging around my neck that says "Hey! Take Advantage of Me...I LOVE IT!"

TM pictured with chips...the one and only time that would occur.

Okay...here you go. A picture. Remember this girl? She had, ahem...one good tournament run...in her life. Her 15 minutes of fame lasted...can we say this? WAY TOO FUCKING LONG? Well...no one has seen her on the poker circuit in quite some time. Can we safely assume she has finally slipped off into oblivion? We can only cross our fingers, legs and arms...and maybe eyes, and hope so.

That's it...I'm outa here. Need to go make some money.

Monkey