A Much Deserved Follow Up to Day 1....

I've decided to take another run at this entry from Hammond. Having spent an hour and a half banging out a classic last night...only to have it go totally up in smoke due to this Dell on Crank.I was just too damn deflated to try to reproduce what was...up to that point, a damn classic. Sleep just seemed like a much more reasonable option. Ah, but then I spent all night tossing and turning and really getting no sleep at all. I credit that to my Top Ten post vanishing into the cracks of oblivion. 

Day One just contained so much damn good material to chat/write/talk about that there was no way I couldn't take another stab at it. And since I have the day off....or as much of the day off as I'd like to have (leaving open the possibility of sit n go's and/or the 7pm nightly...and seeing as how I am totally caught up on my pools and other 'stuff' I owe it to myself to try again.

When Claudia and Barth came back to my room last night to devour our feast from Mickey D's...we watched some of the rebroadcast of the VP debate. All I could focus on was that smug little punk-like smirk on Paul Ryan's face. The words of Joe Biden were just like conversation between Charlie Brown's teacher and the rest of the class. That and Biden was clearly hoarse for whatever reason...but I became fixated on that little monkey and his smirk. Suddenly, The Claw yells out..."What the fuck is up with this beady-eyed little fucker with the smug look on his face!???" AMEN.

After Barth and I bagged up our Day 1 chips...we headed to valet, where Kai arrived to pick us up, all decked out in his Lord Puddingsworth attire. It's hideous. And I promise, there WILL be pictures later. But he was basically functioning as our mentally fucked up, inbred chauffeur from England....maybe.  You gotta see this freak. I don't even really know how to classify him. Maybe Joe Dirt meets Austin Powers? Yeah well...there is something kind of uncomfortable when I am in the company of black people who don't KNOW that my nickname is Monkey...that when they hear that they bristle. I don't know exactly why, but they do. And that in turn...makes me (sometimes) feel a tad bit awkward.

Well last night...it was something completely different. Barth and I were addressing Lord P. as though he were our bitch boy. He got out of the car...but didn't come around to open our door. There were two older, very heavy-set black gals getting into a rundown piece of crap Corolla behind us...and when they heard me shout at Kai...I mean, Lord Puddingsworth.....

"Get your ass over here BOY and open my damn door! You want us to take you back where we found you? I will, you worthless piece of shit!"

Ohhhhhh their heads both snapped around like someone just hollered "FREE FUDGE!!!!" Only the look on their face wasn't like that of someone about to get treated to fudge. Oh no...we set things back, straight to 1865...and we might as well have been climbing into a horse and buggy. It was funny...to US. But I'm thinking those two big 'uns  had a totally different take on the situation than we did!

Hmmm. Speaking of racism. Holy shit is there a double standard in our country that I never get tired of bitching about. So we get back into the room last night...and I start channel surfing...and when I get to BET (yeah...that channel, the one exclusively owned by, operated by, and marketed to...African Americans) there is a cartoon on. I could tell you what it was called...but seriously? I think, unless you have seen it, you will think I am full of shit and making this up. Trust me. I'm not. The name of the cartoon?  The Black Panther.' Yes, as in,..uh huh, the BLACK PANTHERS Black Panther. Dressed up in a suit...as though he were a super hero. And if that wasn't offensive enough (to a European American... a.k.a. 'white person') what really tipped the scales of ridiculousness was who The Black Panther was battling against. Ready? Wait for it......

Oh! Just Captain Freaking America! Yeah! What...I ask you...message is this trying to send to the people watching BET? I think,...and I say I think, because I feel like I am  highly adept and able to read between the lines where common sense is the element counted on to figure shit out. If you need me to break it down for you...what message I think they are trying to convey to the BET-watchers? Well...then you are kind of a fucking idiot and I will ask you to respectfully STOP reading my blog.  Forever! Being a simpleton (fancy word for moron, or dipshit) is not a flattering quality.

In case I forgot to mention it...our trip up here was flawless. Perfect commute from Biloxi to New Orleans early Wednesday morning. No traffic. Picked up Barth...who was ready and waiting. I got an exit row on BOTH legs of the flight on Air Tran. They didn't lose or fuck up my baggage. We rented an SUV up here, that actually fit ALL of us AND our luggage. Huge score there. And there were no bad surprises awaiting us when we arrived at our hotel. Everything...without a hitch. 

Then we went and met the couple who bought almost all my action for this event for dinner. Got my financial business out of the way, which is nice to get taken care of right after arriving. And we got to bed by 10:30...so even got a good night of sleep heading into Day 1...and we registered the night before...so no repeat of last year in this event, when I showed up at 11:30 am thinking I was plenty early. Wrong! I went in as the 227th alternate, in Level 4. No way I was having that happen to me again. On the negative side...and the only negative to happen all day, I drew (once again) seat effing 10. And on an early breaking table.

WHY? I seriously think there is some kind of prompt in the Harrah's tourney software that when my card gets slid through their computer...it's pre-programmed to automatically hose me and stick me in the 1 or the 10 seat. Yeah...I'm going all 'conspiracy theory' on this one! I mean its just way too coincidental for it to happen as often as it does. To make it worse...when my table broke after three hours...I got moved to my new table...and drew seat 1!!!! What the hell!???  I did catch on a break on my THIRD table move...and got the 7-seat for my last table of the night...where I would stay for about 7 hours...and witness some of the craziest shit I've seen in quite a while. (poker-wise AND human-wise)

My computer is still going bonkers. But now I'm writing in a WORD document so I won't have to worry about losing the whole damn entry again! (just got off the phone with Dell...for the fourth time on this issue. It finally acted up THIS time when they tapped into and took over the controls of my computer. So now they are sending out a technician to replace the touchpad. Hope it works. If not, this bitch is going back to the factory!)

So...I guess I should share a little poker stuff with you...explaining how Captain Super Nit somehow managed to bag up 156,900 chips last night...which, if you're scoring at home is the equivalent of 65 BB's. This should afford me a lot of room to navigate stress free through the first couple levels tomorrow...which I think is all it will require before we reach the money.  We got a total of 1,063 players yesterday in Flight A and played down to 130. We quit with 33 minutes left in Level 16 (maybe 17...not sure)...and today's group will play down to that exact spot. I can't remember what the field size was last year in this event between Flight A and B...I just know the total was 3,001. So I guess we should anticipate at least 1500 today. Maybe close to 2000. If that's the case, I expect them to play down to about 275-325. Imagine we will come back with about 400 players...with 270-300 getting paid. So it shouldn't take long. More good news is the restart is at 2pm...not noon. Love that. (as I write this...Claudia is on bullet #2 and tells me they are at 1300 right now)

So...you all know how much I bitch and whine about getting sucked out on all the time. And the theory is fairly sound that a player with my style of play isn't going to do a whole lot of sucking out...because I almost always get it in good, so the amount of times I get sucked out on far outnumbers the times I suck out on people. Well, I think there is no way I have ever won a tourney, or even final tabled a tourney...where I didn't have at least TWO suckouts along the way. Well...that happened yesterday. Two. Two nice suckouts. Granted...I had a lot of outs.

SUCKOUT #1. With an above average stack, I limped in early position for 300 with J10s. A very tight, A-B-C player...makes it 700 in middle position. It folds back to me. What the hell, I'll see if I can outflop AK. I do. Sort of. Q-9-7...with two spades. Yahtzee! I never had any intention of folding. I had the guy covered, but not by a lot. I checked. He fires out 4000. Into a pot of about 2100. Now I decided he must have an over pair. Oh well...no way in hell that I'm folding that hand...not in a $365...especially when Flight A basically serves itself up as a 'mulligan.' I re-raised him to 10k..and he didn't even stop to think...no hesitation, just (literally) clasped his hands and snowplowed his shit into the pot. ALL IN!  I call. He had aces. Ooops. Hell, I still liked my hand! And I really liked it when I turned the flush. Rivered the straight just for shits and giggles. The guy stood up, scowled at the dealer...Neal Hunt Wilkinson...and snaps at him "thanks a lot DEALER!!!"  I leaned into Neal's ear (since I was in the 1-seat) and whispered, "Thanks a lot....DEALER!"

SUCKOUT #2.  Again...a pretty tight old man...this time on my left...raised. I think we were at 600-1200 and he raised to 3500. Well, I'd been on a monster heater the past couple orbits...and was feeling a little bullet-proof, so I looked him up, knowing I was probably behind. One other person called...yeah, what did I have? AJ. The flop comes out 10-Q-8. Hmmm. Double gutter. With a back door spade draw. Another monster flop. He bets....5000. I look at his stack. He has 12k behind that bet. Hmm. I start telling him about the guy who's aces I busted earlier. How I check raised that guy...and that guy didn't even think about folding. I was kind of baiting him...telling him that I THOUGHT he had AA or KK. "Wow...what a flop...I have a feeling I'm about to snap aces or kings again." My next move was designed to make him think he was drawing dead. I re-raised to 13k. Basically I raised 75% of his remaining stack. Only two moves for him. Fold or shove. He shoved. Shit. Okay. Call. He turns over a set of 10's. Oh shit! Kind of takes away some of my outs. No problem, I river the king for the straight. 

"Oh hell...you gotta be kidding me," uttered the old guy...and he left. I kind of felt bad about that one...just a little bit. He was a nice guy. But better him than me losing 70% of my stack. It was at that stage of the tourney...where it was a good time to gamble and chip up. Again...I had a goal...to get out of Day 1a with 40BB's or more . If I got below 20BB's there was a great chance that I was going to go Kamikazi like a lot of players were doing in the last two levels...in order to either bust...or chip up to an acceptable returning stack. 

On one hand...the dreaded queens bit me on the ass again. A short stack moved all in...honestly, I can't even remember what he had. Because when the next guy 'quick jammed' in that style of shoving all in that smacks of AK or JJ...I looked down at QQ and did my usual groan. Ugh. How much? The first all in was 7800. The next all in was 15,400. I was sitting at around 69,000 right then...and granted, I know that QQ is my bugaboo, but I was in position to really set myself up for a good run on Day 2 if I was right and this guy, in fact, had JJ or AK...and I could (for once) get the QQ to hold there...and climb to around 100k and cruise. If I call and lose, I'm back down to about 55k...which was still above average...but, well there is nothing worse (as most of us know) then losing traction, and/or momentum in those critical stages of the tourney.

My pretty well documented strategy...that some think makes me 'super nitty' in their analysis, is what I call the 15/15 strategy. If I am above 15 BB's, and I'm in a position to make a big call preflop...like this one...it needs to be very close to 15% or less for me to comfortably make that call and not harbor any regrets. Very few players...especially the aggressive ones, ever employ this strategy. But you see...I know (as do most good players) that you are never going to win the tourney in ONE hand...or with ONE pot. But you certainly can lose it in one...or maybe a couple of ill-advised hands that you play too loosely or even just bad. So I've found that, as much as I might want to make a call in these spots...there are times where it just doesn't feel like the right play, where the risk far outweighs the reward.

Put it this way. If I have 40BB's...and making a call against an all-in player...and winning, will take me to just 50 BB's...but losing the hand? Will take me down to say, 25BB's? What's a better place to be? With 40 BB's you have so much more control over your table. It's hard to have a smooth run when your clinging to 10-20 BB's all day. So I do have a bit of a tendency to tighten up the more chips I get. Because I know those chips will be better served in the later levels. Being two or three times the average on Day 1 really means nothing...but having that same average on Day 2? Very, very important. So...yeah, back to that decision. Fold those damn queens? And stay around 70k? Or go for it...and try to get to 100k and coast for the rest of the night. I gambled. I re-shipped. Everyone folded (thank god no one woke up with AA) I was right, he had AK. The first all in?  Again...no idea what he had. Was too busy worrying about the AK...and so when the ace hit the flop I just sank in my chair. Ugh. Again. Queens....in the dirt. If he'd had JJ, he'd have hit one of those too. So it was back to the drawing board.

Earlier...after having a fracas/dispute with this asshole in the 5-seat, and telling him I was going to spite raise him any time he entered a pot until I busted him...he limps for 1400 on the last hand of the level and before break. I wake up with KK on the button! Hahahah...how perfect! I raise to 3800. That's when the guy (a shortstack, again...with 9200) wakes up with damn aces in the small blind. He shoves. Asshole folds...and I lose with my KK to AA. Only time I had KK all day.

44 was very good to me yesterday. At 1000/2000 a pretty aggressive player (from New Orleans, a big cash game player) the nickname Leprechaun who wears a gold sparkly hat..limps in. Two others limp...so I come along on the button with 44. Magic flop of Q-9-4 rainbow. He leads for 5500. Next guy guys. Hell I'm struggling to find a reason to raise! I don't. I call. Turn is another 9. Sweet. First guy checks now. Next guy bets 12k. Raise? Nawww. I just call again. Initial raiser finally gives up. River is an ace. Hmm. How shitty if this guy has A9? He checks. The pot is so juicy, and he has quite a lot of chips, so if I bet a decent amount, and he ships on me...I'm really going to be in a shitty spot with my smallish full house. So I check behind. I never see his hand. Mine is good. NICE pot!

So on the heels of winning that hand...I decide when I see 44 under the gun on the final hand of the night...that I will go ahead and play those bad boys. I raise from 1200/2400 to 5800. The only caller is the same guy I beat with the 44 before. Only he is doing the 'I don't want to come back with 5 BB's move' and shoving on the button for 12k without looking at his hand. I can't fold. He turns over 3c-6c. Ugh. Over card! The flop comes 3-4-5. Yikes. He turns a club draw! The river....is a BRICK! Nice! Nice pot to close out the night. 156,900 in the plastic bag.

Okay, Okay...I know I know. You want to hear about ClownBoy. Barth is sitting here in my room, fully showered and clothed and wanting to go exploring, and I'm trying to fulfill what I see as my responsibility to you guys to give you what you clamor for...which, actually...I already REPORTED to you LAST NIGHT until 4am...before this son of a bitch Dell swallowed the entire post. How annoying! It's done it 6 times already while typing THIS one...but I'm in WORD, so I am able just click on 'UNDO' and it comes back.

So. Clownboy. Also became known, later in the night...as Numb Nuts. At one point, with about 20 minutes left in the night...I agreed to buy him a beer, and I'm positive he took as me extending an olive branch to him, when in reality it was my ploy to get his lips to something other than flap jibberish...like, wrap themselves around the rim of the beer and drink that sweet nectar, whilst providing me and the rest of the table with some wonderful, golden silence.

It started like this:

I'd been at the table for only 45 minutes. I'd already seen three completely insane plays. I'd been informed that clownboy had lost all but 1600 of his stack...and proceeded to go all in 8 times in a row...and grew his stack to over 18,000. Well, that's when I (as he would tell me...over and over for the next 7 hours) would take over with my own heater....hitting everything for about two orbits and going from 22k to about 70k.

Somehow, this guy knew me. He would never call me anything other than 'Poker Monkey.' Never Monkey. Never Monk. Certainly not my name. (Will). Just Poker Monkey, every time. His numerous friends would come by to rail him...and it would  be one story after another... 

"Well I had this many chips but I got in a hand with Poker Monkey...and Poker Monkey moved all in on me on the turn...and I made a good fold to Poker Monkey. Do you know Poker Monkey!?? This is Poker Monkey!"

I'm like..."What the fuck!??"

Here's the deal. I think that he thought, that I thought...that he was a total asshole. He said as much. But the thing is? I didn't. Not at all. He's actually, very entertaining. Not intentionally rude. Not intentionally mean or anything. Actually somewhat pleasant to an extent. No...his deal, was that he was painfully annoying. He would in one breath, tell us all how he had been 'tearing up the poker circuit lately, winning left and right," which drew snickers from several of the actual circuit regulars. I mean...we all KNOW who is running hot, who is winning tourneys left and right. So it made it especially amusing, when, at the end of the night...when it was time to bag our chips...he was totally lost. What do I put in the bag? Am I supposed to write something on the bag? Why does it have the wrong seat number on this piece of paper? (that seat number, by the way...is/was his new seat assignment for Day 2. And oh...guess what table and seat he drew? Table 5 seat 6. Guess what I drew? Table 5...seat 8! Yeah! What are the odds!?? Can't wait to have him on the button when I'm in the BB.

Oh speaking of odds! At one point nearing the end of the night...he utters this beauty at a table full obvious gamblers and sports bettors:

"Hey...what's the over/under on me making it to Day 2!???"

A few quick exchanged glances and smirks were followed by me saying back to him:

"Did you just ask me what the OVER/UNDER is on your making it back for Day Two? Seriously? The Over/Under? Um...okay...I'll say...ahhhhh...76!!!"

"Huh!???" Deer in headlights pose. Other players snickering again. Dude....come on!

Another time after chipping up on another one of his luckbox doubleups on a monster fade by the other guy...oh no, actually that was the time he called Super OMRG's early raise (with  AA) with 6d7d in the BB. Not a terrible play at all. No...the terrible play came after the flop. I think he led for a sizable amount. The old guy with aces...SHOVES all in...for a LOT. The kid (actually, I'm almost positive I might have heard him say he's 44, oh no, never mind, that's his Sugar Mama that he bragged about all night. He must be about 26 or so) snap calls with his 7-high flush draw. Of course, he gets there...and sends another mumbling/grumbling OMRG to the rail. So now, with this big inheritance of chips...he starts the talking again. After every big pot that he won...with it came the incessant banter. This time...we were all informed that he was winning the tournament. I guess we all should get up and leave...and just blind out.

Well, at least he was playing for a good cause...as he would tell all of us. Apparantly his mom, or aunt...fuck I don't know...sister maybe...was locked up in the county jail on a bum rap (aren't they all?). He was playing to win enough to get her a good lawyer. Well...hey, it just so happens the guy on my right is a lawyer. (and this guy was pretty funny too)

"Ya need a good lawyer? Ya want a card?"

"Oh no sir...I'm all good, I have the best lawyers money can buy! I have lots of lawyers. And I have a lot of judges that are friends too!"

Yup.

Then in one of my favorite moments...after exhibiting some of the most illogical poker playing all day, has the audacity to say at the end of a hand...this gem, and oh...ClownBoy...if you are reading this, (which I'm sure you are) and you are wondering what I was referring to when I said "That last 15 seconds might have been my favorite moment of the day," this is what I was referring to.

Guy wins a hand. Scoops the pot. Believe there were three clubs on the board. Now...our friend here in the 9-seat? First of all, every hand came with commentary...if he was in, he would explain all the ways he played it, why he played it that way...and how he felt with the end result. If he happened to fold preflop...he almost always, I'd say close to 98.35% of the time won the hand IF he had just played it. And of course we would all hear about that. It wasn't annoying. Okay. It was. Oh..so back to that hand. He is badgering the guy wanting to know what he had. He concludes that he might have had a flush...in which case, he takes issue with the amount of wager he made on the river.

"Wow man, if you had a flush right there...that was the worst bet ever on the river."

It was the absolute PERSONIFICATION of the old addage, 'the coffee calling the kettle black' that I may ever, in my life...have heard. It was just...well...perfect! And just kind of brought the entire experience at that table full circle.

Another little quirk he had. He (and due to my ADD/OCD I was kind of timing him after the 3rd time) would leave the table for 6-7 minute blocks of time....about every 22 minutes. It was weird. Chain smoker? Coke fiend? Working a side job parking cars outside? Multi-tabling in the nightly? So...as if that was a tad bit bizarre...there comes a time when he 'really has to piss.' But for some reason won't. Why? You're afraid your going to miss a hand? Again...no sense.

Oh...Gosh, I left out the best part, didn't I? What started the big fracas on our table! I hadn't been at the table very long...but had already seen enough to know that I had stepped into the Twilight Zone of Poker. Blinds are 400-800. Girl...fairly new to the table...and playing incredibly aggressive...raises to 2400. A guy behind her re-raises...to 7000! Hmmm...what are YOU putting HIM on? Me, I'm putting him on QQ or KK. Not AA...I would think AA would want the action...and make it maybe 5500. At least I would. Hell, I might even flat, if I think she won't ever get away from her hand. Had he done that? He would have gotten all her chips. But he didn't. A short stack goes all in for about 5500 with 99. It folds back to her. She tanks. For quite a while...then calls. Oooof. Hate that play. When she flatted, I put her on either AK or JJ. Flop comes 9-high. Yeah...all in guy flopped top set. He's going to win the main pot. She bets out 5000. The other guy puts her all in. She makes that face...you know the one.

OH! FUCK!

Yeah. I see her face...and I KNOW she has JJ. And I KNOW he has QQ or KK. Well...she tanks...and now the jerkoff in the 10-seat calls clock. After only a couple minutes. She gets upset. The floor comes over. Is told the story. Gives her a minute to act...she folds...and shows JJ. As I thought. And he has QQ. I then rip into the guy in the 10-seat...telling him that was very inappropriate. Tells me 'it's in the rules' and I tell him, yeah, its in the rules alright...but even more important than that...is having a little class and etiquette. He doesn't agree. We agree to disagree and I decide he is a class A prick who needs to get busted. Well just about that time...the short little hispanic dude, who had been edgy since I sat down...jumps up and freaks out on me. About the whole clock calling thing. 

"Whoa...easy boy...what is your problem? Who shit in your cereal?"

He babbled something I just laughed at and/or mocked...and then told him I was going to go out of my way to bust his ass...that he could expect me to spite call every 'fucking' time he raises me. So what happens? Clownboy pipes up with this!

"Hey...isn't that supposed to be a penalty!??? He dropped the 'F' bomb!!!"

Okay first of all, guy who acts like he's in 8th grade....that rule is SO 2006! Second of all...are you out of your fucking mind??? What I didn't tell you yet...is that only TEN minutes earlier, he just returned from serving a penalty for exposing a card...yeah...that RULE is back at this event. It's related to the crew, not the WSOP. Whatever event this crew works...they are Nazi-like about the exposed card rule. So this kid had pin-wheeled his cards to the dealer...barely flashing the 10-seat, who actually tried to deny seeing them. But the dealer insisted on calling the floor over...even AFTER I begged him to just muck the cards and get on with it.

I went to BAT for this scrub. Even when the floor guy arrived I went to bat for him. What a fucking dipshit. Well, he got the penalty anyway. And served it...while coming back and buzzing the table after about every two hands...insisting he had probably had AA three or four times. Yeah...of course you did. Beat it! Clownboy!

So now...jackass...is trying to get ME in a penalty. For dropping, as he put it 'the F bomb' which has long since not been on the list of Nazi-like rule enforcement items. I remind him that I was the one sticking up for him. 

"Yeah..but I STILL got the penalty!"  Really, man? Wow...you really are thick, arent you?

So, obviously I didn't get a penalty. But I added him to my shit list. And over the next three hours, he tried frantically to get 'off' my shit list. But I wasn't budging. No way dude. You don't TRY to get me into a penalty and even THINK I'm letting that go. Nope. But...as the other two fucktards who had invited themselves onto my shit list were getting whacked from the tourney in perfect 'karma-serving-Monkey' fashion....Clownboy just couldn't lose. He would end up bagging around 127K...after spending the last two or three hours counting his chips every 5 or 10 minutes. He was obsessed. So when he leaned over and saw that I bagged more chips than him? It was like...he got a bike from Santa...but 'ol Johnny across the street got one too...only it was a lot nicer. Yeah...some of us just quietly accumulate chips, sir.

Along the way there were other moments with him. A guy who folded on the other side of the table...he claimed (while the hand was in play) that he saw a card...and is he supposed to get a penalty for that? To which we all just looked at him in disbelief with that look...again, you know the look. REALLY DUDE? WTF! COME ON! But he insisted he wasn't TRYING to get the guy in a penalty...he was just 'curious!' I had to share with him this pearl of wisdom...that I'm not sure sunk in.

"Uh...yeah, if you are just CURIOUS? Then why don't you wait until the hand is over...and the guy CAN'T get in trouble or receive a penalty? Because when your start chirping in the middle of the hand? You are absolutely GOING to get the guy in trouble! It's called 'timing' Clownboy...and your timing is horrendous.

I could bitch and complain about this guy...but the honest truth? He kept me interested all night. I mean...a table that is just cold, stale and quiet? It's a drag. This guy really kept me on my toes. I really can't wait to see how far he gets. He kept braggin about his 27th place finish in this event LAST year. Well...okay. Cool. I will keep my eyes on him...to see how he does. Shouldn't be too hard...since he's at MY TABLE AGAIN!!!!  Stay tuned for this saga!

Okay....Barth is about to eat his laptop....I gotta wrap this up. Pretty damn long. Sorry.

MONKEY

Day 1. Hammond. Whoa...where to begin!!??

So...it's 2:48 a..m. Claudia and I are now recovering from our late-night run to McDonald's to pollute our bodies with horrible (yet delicious) food. I see the ke:

You have GOT TO EFFING kidding me! I am about to toss this new DELL out the window! I literally just spent the last TWO hours writing an incredibly long blog...and this stupid muther-effing Dell...just went schizo...and deleted ALL but the first two sentences. And usually blog editor will save it every couple of minutes as a draft. Nope. Gone. Just gone! And now its 4am and I am dead tired. 

I'm so pissed. And yes, Clownboy in the 9-seat...I (as promised) ripped you to shreds in very riveting detail ...all lost because of this schizophrenic piece of shit new laptop. I can't do again. It's too late now...and I just can't duplicate this level of greatness.

SUMMARY: Played Day 1a $365. Total players 1,063. Played down to 130 players. I was one of them. So was Barth. Kai and Claudia busted before dinner break. I bagged 156k. Barth 95k. Blinds will be 1200/2400 when we come back. On Saturday at 2pm. Claw and Lord Puddingsworth (aka Kai) will come back tomorrow and fire a second bullet in Day 1b. Me and Barth will take the day off and do...well, something non-poker related. 

TABLE ANTICS:  Plenty. Most involving clown boy...who has already let us all know he is winning the tournament. Shared with us that he has been winning tourneys left and right...however, when it came time to bag his chips, he had no clue whatsoever on how to do this simple procedure. He was one of the most 'quotable' players of all time. And I slapped in about 4 or 5 in this previous 'gem' of a blog post that 'new Dell from Hell' decided to erase.

The longer I continue to write now, the more angry I become that my first draft is lost forever. That should tell you just how emotionally invested I get in some of these posts. I'm just going to end this right now. I need time to recover from the loss. 

Monkey (on blog tilt)

'Twas the Night Before Hammond..

For some reason, I feel an unusually high level of excitement for this next trip...and quite possibly, the last trip of 2012 for the Poker Monkey. At 8am, Idiot #1...Kai Landy, will board the Hummer from Hell of Claudia 'The Claw' Crawford...who has added a few other nice nicknames to her mantra the last few weeks...and they will come pick up me, Idiot #2...who will then leave for New Orleans and meet up with Idiot #3...Barth Melius. We will then depart for Chicago, by way of Atlanta...for an pleasant 4:15pm arrival. No more limo there to meet us. Called to confirm today, and find out they inadvertently scheduled my pickup for Nov. 9th. Um. No...that would be OCTOBER 10th!?? And wait...I'm going to Hammond, Indiana...not downtown Chicago. And that's a problem?

For the record? Hammond is a shorter distance from Midway airport than downtown Chicago. Which is why when they told me the price was going to go from $87 to $215, I laughed and said "Cancel, please!" Why the sharp increase? No clue. But who cares? We can get a van taxi for about $60-$70. Or maybe we will all just decide to rent a car. Not that it will get all four of us and luggage to our hotel...but whatever. Not going to let one little hiccup slow us down!

I want to say how proud I am of my wife. I got down to their benefit for the late Billy Bridges at about 1:30 on Sunday...and they already had a great crowd there. The Bounce House was a real hit...kids everywhere. They always have all-you-can-eat crawfish on Sundays...so it was pretty busy for that too. I brought Carley, and almost never saw her until we were ready to go home at around 6pm! She was being passed around by all of Squirrels friends and co-workers at the Beau. She's quite a popular little girl! Squirrel worked the table practically the whole time. The night before she was up baking cookies and brownies...and sold them all. When it was all said and done...she was there from 8am till 11pm...they raised just a little over $2500 for the Bridges family. I talked to his brother Tony when I got there...and you could tell he was really shaken up by the whole thing. It's hard to have that conversation, because what do you say? I tried to give him something positive, but its always hard. Felt really bad for the poor guy. But I think the day might have given him some hope and let him know how much everyone cared for his brother and him. I know I really married a good woman, that's for sure.

So tonight, as if death hasn't visited our doorstep enough this year...she is in the middle of giving Carley a bath, when I watch her face go pale. What is it? She just found out that the guy she dated in high school...and almost married, had just died of a heart attack. He was 44. I mean, I'd heard all about this guy, Brad Wilkes. About what a crazy, drunken psycho he was. But she kept going back to him...for some damn reason. Finally she snapped...left him, and that was it. When you're from a small town like she is...I guess those people never totally leave your life. I wasn't sure what to say to console her...or if it was even necessary. I tried to imagine if my ex-stripper girlfriend Hannah from Atlanta were to suddenly just drop dead what I would feel. Wasn't really able to come up with anything concrete. Pretty sure I know how Squirrel would treat that news. ;)

Human beings continue to show me their jackass side this week. Oh, and to the fuckhead who keeps leaving (anonymously of course, because isn't that what all spineless weasels do? Speak behind the veil of anonymity?) me your ridiculous comments? If you think ANY of what you said in those two messages does anything but make me laugh? You should try saying it to my face...so I can show you in person just how insignificant and irrelevant you are. But you won't. And your 'hoping you're the one who busts me in the Main Event in Hammond' statement? This might be silly of me, but I think it warrants me pointing out that you first have to BE in Hammond to play in the Main Event. Not behind some desk, in a cubicle at your insurance company trying to sell another policy. Or hassling that person for their premium payment that is 3 days late.

No, what I'm actually alluding to (not the previous troll) are the piranhas out there who are coming to the feeding frenzy that is the breakup of my friends Gabe Costner and Claudia Crawford...like a bunch of, well...piranhas. Only...the way they are doing it, is by swimming up all calm and nonchalant like dolphins. 

Oh there are those who are falling hook, line and sinker for the version of Claudia that Gabe posted on Facebook last week sometime...and deciding in their minds that she is this village whore who is bouncing around from bedroom to bedroom. Now...a lot has transpired since that Facebook post...and I would like to think Gabe regrets putting that 'out there' in  Musemeci/Marafioti-like ambush style...but that certainly has seemed to be the popular way this year to end relationships. The 'ol Sherman March through Atlanta way of terminating an affair. Magical.

The fact of the matter is, Claudia is not a skank, or a whore. If she was, for one thing...my wife would NEVER be her best friend. Secondly...and without getting too personal about things between her and Gabe...she REALLY loved that guy, and tried like hell to make it work, for a LONG time. Things just built up...over a relatively long period of time...and she finally had just had enough. It's not like she didn't anguish over her decision. She did. I'd heard them on their card nights (when I was in my room watching football or something) over here talking about it. It wasn't like a big 'pile on Gabe' thing either. We all like Gabe. We think he might have a few bats in his belfry...but we like him! Bottom line...the relationship ended due to the relationship not functioning. And Claudia is still young, and decided to start over. That's it. So you mealy-mouthers out there...seriously? Why don't you give it a rest? You know...you can learn a lot about a person, not by what others say about you....but what YOU say about others. It's a clear reflection.

And as for those clowns...and you know who you are....who are texting her before the ink is even dry on the divorce papers (that is an analogy, not being literal, they weren't married) offering yourself to her 'if she needs someone to talk to?' Do you really NOT think she doesn't see through your sad, pathetic attempt to get into her pants? It's not only offensive, but you should be embarrassed, and must really not give her credit for being more intelligent than a pickle. Well, she IS smarter than a pickle...and you are only being laughed at. It's called timing, fool, and yours sucks! But I bet you are the same guy telling everyone what a whore she is...then turning right around and HOPING its true! Guys like you haven't changed since high school. And likely never will.

So yeah...sorry, but that is me taking up for a friend. And we HAVE actually had some 'I'm there for you if you need to talk' moments out on my back porch. Or at the bar on Sunday during the benefit. Because unlike most of your dorks, I don't have any ulterior motives.

Moving on. Those new Geico commercials? Where they have those two guys playing (or just holding onto) guitars...and asking how happy people are that they switched to Geico? As happy as a slinky on an escalator! As happy as a body builder directing traffic! As happy as....you get it? I don't which ones I hate more...those...or those fucking Free-Credit-Report.com commercials...>ANY OF THEM...over the past five years. If I ever see that guy in public, you know...fluky as it would be...I might just as a reflex punch the guy in the throat. It wouldn't be premeditated, or even...well....it would just be like...WHOA...did I seriously just break that Free Credit Report.com's guys trachea? Holy shit!??

The Saints finally won.

There still is NO hockey...and its looking more and more like there could be another lost season.

The NBA is about to start. Anyone care?

LSU lost. That makes three games they've almost lost this year. As much as I hate that team, and as happy as I am to see them lose...all that being said? I fully expect them to beat South Carolina at home this weekend. But I won't be sad if they lose again either.

As predicted my Huskies got murdered by Oregon. I knew we would. I can't believe they even put us in the Top 25 last week. Nice for recruiting purposes though, I guess. It's looking more and more like an Oregon vs. Alabama National Championship. Won't hate that either. 

Why does my wife have such a hard time understanding why I like to pack in the morning before I leave? I mean...it takes me like 10 minutes. Maximum. Whenever we go somewhere together, she starts packing like two days in advance. Won't let me go to bed until I pack. And then if I don't, packs FOR me. It doesn't really irritate me or annoy me, I guess its kind of cute. Maybe since she doesn't travel as much as I do, she is just fired up about it. It's no big deal to me. I just like doing everything at the last minute I guess. 

So today, I'm on my way to the bank...got Carley in the baby seat...dogs in the back...its a nice beautiful sunny day. Behind me in an older man on a Harley...with the gray facial hair. I've always known most guys on Harley's to be nice guys. Oh...not this guy. You know how there is a two lane road...and there is that car trying to turn left up ahead? And you know they are going to sit there forever trying to turn? Well, I am that nice driver, who will slow down...flash my brights, and let them know they can turn in front of me. So I do that for this person,  they wave the 'thank you wave' and what happens? Harley guy behind me goes berserk. Honking his horn, waving his arms, flipping m the bird. My dogs start barking at him. I tell them good dog, good dog. And then just ask myself..."why in the hell...would you freak out about something like that?" I mean...was he in a hurry to get to the red light? We were in pretty thick traffic...and were about 200 yards from a red light...and he is going ballistic. What is wrong with people? Maybe he just caught his wife in bed with a guy who owned a Porsche.

I don't know who is going to win the World Series. I don't even have a hunch. And frankly...I don't even care who wins. I guess I'd like to see two teams with tiny payrolls and fans thirsting for a winner. Like Baltimore vs. Washington would be fun. Or Baltimore vs. Cincinnati. New York vs. Cincinnati would bring back old memories. I don't know. Still a long way to go. But I know one thing...that ONE and DONE format for the first Wild Card game was a fiasco. That has GOT to be best of three or don't even waste your time. 

I am excited for Hammond. I really am. That first event last year attracted a shade over 3000 players. Imagine winning that right out of the gate? Good gawd, I might just turn around and come home! Yeah right, who believes THAT one!?? Good turnouts. Good structures. Soft fields. Great cash room. Decent SNG area. Yeah...fired up. And going with 3 really good friends? Pretty good recipe for a good trip. Can't wait.  The only downside...is that I am REALLY going to miss Carley...and my wife. Things between us since I got home from Shreveport have been really great...and I hate having to leave her. But having her best friend with me should (I hope) help alleviate any of those 'feelings' a wife has when her husband is on the road. 

Carley and I have been forming this amazing bond when Squirrel is off at work every day (earning very little but keeping us in  the health insurance!) and its amazing how much she changes and grows and learns every day. Being away from her for even 12 days is SO hard.  It really is amazing how much having a child will change your whole perspective on life, and those around you. Walking into the room and watching her face light up...and that infectious smile spread across her face? It just fills my heart with joy. When she wakes up in the morning, and looks and my wife and I, and just smiles? We both just look at each other...and have that same exact feeling. It's incredible. Carley is without a doubt...the greatest thing I have ever accomplished. I don't even go out on trips anymore wanting to win for me. When I was in Vegas, playing in the Main Event...and getting deeper and deeper...I just kept thinking about her...what this money could mean for her. What my success could do for her. What me winning a bunch of money, and being able to STAY HOME...could/would do for her. I don't have expensive tastes. I don't want for much. I don't long for doing things I've never gotten to do. I fell like I've gotten to do almost everything in my life that I ever wanted to do. Now...all I want to do, is re-explore all the things in life that make life wonderful...but do them with Carley. And doing them with her, will make them fun for me again. I've basically been reborn with the birth of my daughter. More than winning any poker tournament...all I really want to win, is the respect and admiration of my daughter. That's why no matter if I win or lose in poker...the game for me is never over. It's really just begun.

See you (some of you) in Chicago!!!

MONKEY

Ready for Hammond!

Well...it's Saturday. Great slate of games in college football today, and the MLB playoffs have begun. Well, they didn't get off to a very smooth start, as Chipper Jones had his career possibly cut short by one of the worst calls I've ever seen in a playoff game.  What's up with all the horrendous officiating calls in sports? And in big spots?

Last year I did a thing where I picked games for shits and giggles. I was GOING to do that again. And probably would have...when I sat down at 10am to write this. But oh! No! Forget that. This week has been dominated by me setting up the new Dell I bought three weeks ago. To do this, I have to transfer a shit ton of info from my computer to the new one. Then...I always give Squirrel my hand-me-down...and this one, an XPS, was the nicest one she's ever been about to inherit.

So I think I've got it all finished and all of them set up. Put her current Dell in the office closet. Figure out right away that my new one is schizophrenic. It has a smaller keyboard, which right away I found annoying. But it has this glitch, where it kept hopping around the page, despite not hitting anything to prompt it to do that. I'm in an Excel file..and its just bouncing all over the page. Bout ripped my hair out. Sat down here to blog...and it kept deleting entire paragraphs just for no reason, or who skip all the way back up the page and land in the middle of a word in the middle of a sentence. So I'm blogging on my wife's new one....a.k.a. my old one. After three unsuccessful, rant-filled calls to Dell today, I'm sending the new one back. I just don't know what I'm going to replace it with. Maybe nothing. Maybe just go back to using my old one. Wait for Windows 8 to come out (very soon). Maybe switch to a Mac. 

Okay, enough of that boring shit. Sorry. Just venting mostly. Before I go any further, there is something I need the poker players and acquaintances here in the Biloxi area to know about. This wife of mine...she is a real sweet woman. There are a couple of young guys...I guess one of them works or worked at the Beau at one time. He has a brother...really nice guy, one of those guys who never really caught all the breaks in life...you know, sort of the underdog...but would always help anyone who needed a hand. I met this guy 5 years ago when him and his brother helped Cheryl move from her apartment into our current house. I won't lie, I didn't know him very well...but from all the posts I've read in the past three weeks on Facebook from all the people who did know him...he was a really great kid. Him and his brother lost their parents...and there were all each other had. So the bond between them was incredible.

Well...about 5 months ago, this guy...Billy Bridges, suffered a cut on his arm. Like a lot of guys do, he just tried to 'shake it off.' Hoping that as the days went by, and a scab formed...it would heal up naturally. And he thought it had.  It hadn't. He started feeling very sick. Finally, he went to the hospital. To make a long story short, he had suffered a bad infection. It spread to his heart, where it destroyed one of his valves. He had to get a valve transplant. He was in the hospital for weeks. Finally, they thought he was all healed. Again, he wasn't. He had another setback. Last month, the kept him in the hospital for three weeks, trying everything to fix the problem. I think I was in Bossier City when I got the text from Cheryl..."Billy died last night...I'm so sad..." And I thought about her and the way she had described him the week before. I didn't know the kid too well, but it made me sad too.  The next day, also in Bossier City...I got a text from my step sister in Washington State....letting me know that my 99-year old Grandmother Marie had passed away. Needless to say, it was not a real great weekend. Actually got that message in the middle of that Omaha tourney I ended up final tabling.

So, Cheryl, and a few of her friends have organized a benefit to help raise money to simply pay for Billy's funeral services. And they are also going to celebrate his life...try to put a positive spin on it. Just listening to her talk about him...and the posts I've read on Facebook, make me wish I'd known Billy better. Well, she is going down to The Filling Station, (click the link to see where they are located) which is a popular hangout that our friend Jerry owns (for about three years now) to help get everything set up for the day long benefit. They will have all kinds of food, raffles for prizes and gifts...and a (forgive me if this isn't the right term) jumpy bounce thing for the kids. I am hoping there isn't a weight and/or height restriction on that...because I might have to get in that thing and go mental. They have TV's at the Filling Station...so if you are worried about missing your NFL game...don't. If you a single guy looking to meet some single ladies, there will be a lot of them probably, from the Beau Rivage. So whatever your reasons are...if you are free tomorrow, get down there and see if you can't help the girls out with their benefit. I know that Carley and I will pack up the 4Runner about 1pm and go down there for as long as she will behave.

Speaking of Squirrel. Ya know, since she moved to dayshift to make for a better schedule with Carley, she has been making barely anything. Well, that is bad in itself. But then today...guess where she got to work again? Oh yeah...if you read my blog...you know. That damn penny slot section with the 28 busses of hood rats that the Beau Rivage brings in from Atlanta and New Orleans. I would love to sit down over a cup of lava with the manager that came up with this as a good idea. Yes. I said lava.

Did you watch the debate the other night with Curious George and Mitt the Mormon? It was, well...it was your typical debate, I guess. My biggest observation was that Mitt seemed like he'd tasted his first sip of alcohol or overloaded on caffeine for the first time before going on stage, and Barack seemed like he was riding the X-train...and no I'm not talking about ecstasy, but rather, Xanax. I spent most of the night looking at the top of his head. What the fuck was he looking down at? And you know how they put this tiny little ear devices in their ear? I just have to wonder if he was wearing one of those...to tell him what to say. Because the Barack I saw at the debate, and the Barack I saw at his little pep rally the next day in Denver, which was hysterically staged so that we conveniently saw nothing but whites and Hispanics with the occasional Asian in the crowd directly behind him...but not ONE black person....were like two different people. I just feel like Obama is one big creation by his handlers. Put him on a stage with not script and/or teleprompter and he just fizzles. I mean, lets be honest. Does anyone? Seriously...ANYone...really think this guy has a clue what he's doing? I saw what I thought was an excellent post by a guy I respect quite a bit the other day...below one of my Facebook posts. Thought I would share it. 

Tom Sullivan this is no exaggeration; If Obama came to me 6 years ago and asked for a job...I wouldn't have hired him. If Romney came to me and asked for a job...I would have immediately named him CEO, given him an equity position in the company, and sat on a beach. Is he a boring robot? Yes. Is he a good campaigner? Not even close. Does he know how to build things? Fuck yeah. Is he a brilliant man. Hell yes. Obama is merely a celebrity and a good campaigner. He's a delusional, incompetent liar who counts on our apathy, on our willful ignorance, and he plans strategies around it. He tries to figure out how much he can get away with because of it. He counts on the blind support of all who envy what others have. Obama is a liar. He purposefully positions his opponents with non-truths. 

 

He loves that blind faith democrats will just start shouting that Bush was a moron and Romney is an evil rich guy. The largesse of the media are so upset that they missed the social revolution of the 60's...they can't recover from the unfortunate reality that the timing of their birth denied them the right to have a direct impact on the civil rights movement. So...they decided to prove how valuable they are to the cause. They decided that it's more important to be a part of history (that being the election of Obama) than it is to see, at least, the lesser of many incompetents into the seat of power (the White House). The lion's share of the media convinced the lemmings of the populace to vote for a man who disdains much of what has made this country great. 

 

The talking haircuts...wait...the haircuts that know how to read TelePrompTers...were enamored by a man who can...you guessed it...read a TelePrompTer. And they mistake that for greatness...because...they mistake themselves for greatness. And that's all they do...they read teleprompters. They believe in their own pseudo-intellectuality. Meanwhile, people like us...who've built companies and employed hundreds of people (all of whom have healthcare)...we're just meant to keep forking over truckloads of money to pay for the needy (I'm okay with that) but also the lazy, the incompetent, the corrupt, the fraudulent and the illegal. And...we're supposed to be honored to do so...and we aren't "patriotic" if we don't do it with a smile on our face and a deep reverence for the beer-swilling pouch-bellied dingos in DC. 

 

I say this. Fuck you Obama. Drop dead Barney Frank. Eat shit Nancy Pelosi. And yes, Bush is a moron. It's his fault, as much as the medias, and the idiocy of the majority that voted for Obama, that we're In this ever-deepening shit/federal debt....a debt that Obama is determined to multiply innumerably. Do I want to hang out with Romney? Hell no. Do I think or know for a fact that he can manage the hell out of budgets. Fuck yeah. He's proven it. if you give a shit about your children's future...that's what you'd be thinking about.

 

 

I read that post...and was like..."You know, Tom...that pretty much nailed a LOT of things on the head as far as the way I feel about Barack and his position in our government. I sit here and watch these assholes email us asking for (excuse me MOOCHING) our contribution...and it hasn't just been for a few months, these pricks have been asking for money SINCE HE TOOK OFFICE! It's been a 4-year re-election campaign...all while our country has fallen deeper and deeper into debt, the wars in the Middle East have just gotten more costly and more confusing...and our unemployment rate has skyrocketed. Oh...yeah, I saw the jobs report yesterday. Claiming we added 107,000 jobs last month. I wonder...who puts out those reports? How are they determined? Let me guess...there is no WAY they could be influenced or manipulated to benefit, say...the sitting President...right? This coming on the heels of reading that this week, our own government, back in the late 50's, set up a blower on a rooftop in a shitty neighborhood in East St. Louis, and blew an experimental gas over the residents there...telling them they were testing a 'smoke screen' designed to confuse the Russians in the event of a bombing attack. Well, for the past 40 or 50 years...these people have been suffering from all kinds of different forms of cancer and dying like crazy.

 

This from the same country who made SUCH a big deal about Hitler gassing his own citizens and Saddam using chemical weapons against his own people. Yeah...our leaders aren't quite the 'saints' they'd like you to think they are. Ever heard of a place called Plum Island? No? Google it! It's incredible the shit our government has done to members of our own military, all in the name of gaining an edge on our foreign adversaries. I'm sure they would chalk it up to 'collateral damage all in the name of preserving our freedom.' Yeah, okay...right. I just call it good 'ol fashioned murder. But that's me. I'm silly like that. I think everyone deserves to live a life where they are afforded the same rights as everyone else. And doesn't end up in a research lab. Or on a battleship or destroyer being parked downwind from a nuclear test just to 'test the effects' of fallout from a predetermined distance. Yeah...nice, sorry about your hair loss and your failing internal organs sir. Thanks for your service. 

 

I am not making this up. Some of you likely read this story. Our OWN FUCKING government...experimenting on our own citizens. With chemical weapons (essentially). And I know that has nothing to do with Obama. (yet) But it makes me think about the UFO in Roswell, and a litany of other things...like the JFK assassination. I grew up loving the USA. I never questioned our leaders. I never doubted the direction we were headed as a country. I bought into the whole 'Freedom' and 'Patriotism' song and dance that we were taught as kids. But the older I get, the more I learn, the more I find out...I just get more and more cynical. Does anyone NOT want to trust their leaders? I don't think so. But I really think we are getting closer and closer to the day when our government just flips a switch and sends us spinning out of control into an existence that none of us will be able to defend ourselves against. And this scares the hell out of me. Especially with a new daughter. What kind of fucked up world is she going to grow up in?

 

So, who am I voting for? Shit...I have no idea. Why is it that we can't have a clear cut straight-shooting GOOD GUY who runs for President? Oh...yeah, I know why! Because our leaders are determined by who the party decides to prop up there as their candidate. It's all guided by money, and who can raise the most of it. It sucks. That bullshit we tell our kids? About thinking that even THEY can grow up to be the President? Horseshit. They have a better chance of being Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.

 

Sorry...got a little carried away there. If I offended you...sorry. Sort of. 

 

Wanna talk poker? Don't really have much to tell you...other than I've been getting my dick kicked into the dirt playing on Lock. I don't know man...I just refuse to believe that ANYONE is capable of running good online using basic skill and strategy to succeed. Now if you have cheat software? Or have a way of knowing certain outcomes? Or can get 4 guys together to sit in on a 6-handed table and fuck people up? Yeah okay...maybe those guys can make a profit, even a living playing on line. Bottom line? Playing on line makes me want to punch things. And people. And break shit. And smash things. It's a joke. Then there is all the imbeciles attempting to talk smack. You know...I don't mind getting into with a guy if he is even half way decent at giving it back. But the ridiculous comebacks these clowns on line throw at you? It's like...that makes you even more angry and irritated.

So, last time I posted, I mentioned I was selling shares for the event in Hammond. Whoops. I woke up and had PayPal money already from 3 people and 6 emails from people wanting to invest. And then I had the ONE email I should have seen coming. While in Bossier City, I got a message from a 'certain person' expressing an interest in buying 'all of my action' for Hammond if I decided to go to Hammond. Well, to be honest, I wasn't sure this person was serious. Especially about ALL my action. So when I saw the email from this person, I felt kind of embarrassed, and a little ashamed. I should have completely floated the proposal to them first. My bad. So I fixed the problem...with kid gloves. After all...how many poker players out there would like to have this problem? Like...uh...most of you? But there certainly is no guarantee that ANYONE is going to stick with you for the long haul, so best not to burn any bridges for the future. So I was mindful of that as I notified everyone and let them know that this event was closed.

So...yeah. I'm going to Hammond. And coming with me...all on the same flight...is a real cast of characters. Claudia 'The Claw' Crawford...who is going through kind of a much-talked about breakup with longtime boyfriend/fiance Gabe Costner...and could use a little time away from the Biloxi scene....my buddy Barth Melius from New Orleans...who I last 'poker-ventured' with in Vegas last spring, and Mr. Landry...a.k.a. Lord Puddingsworth...will be joining us. I managed to get us all booked on the same flight...out of New Orleans on Wednesday around noon, getting us in to Chicago around 4pm...where I have arranged for a limo to pick all four of us up and take us to our hotel...where we have two rooms right next to each other. I'm psyched for this trip. Should be a lot of fun. The turnouts should be huge. Some run good would really hit the spot right before the holidays! We have dreamed up a little idea that I plan to videotape and run up the flagpole on YouTube and Facebook and here if it comes out as good as I think it might. Keep your eyes peeled.

LSU lost today at Florida. This makes me extremely happy. I get so sick and tired of listening to LSU fans talk their irritating smack. They should have lost to shittass Auburn last week, who got pummeled today by horrendous Arkansas. So just how bad does that make LSU? I don't know...they did KILL my Washington Huskies...which was just...well, football is weird. 

Speaking of my Huskies? They are about to probably get murdered by Oregon. So...I'm gonna wrap up this blog post...and go watch that game...while finishing up a little paperwork. Probably won't hear from me again until I'm up in Hammond...and God only knows what laptop I'll be working on!

MONKEY