THE POKER MONKEY...your source for Insanity!

Bad Things Happen In Threes? Pfft. Right!!!

2011-08-04T15:49:00.000-05:00

www.gulfcoastpoker.net

Three Days at a Dogtrack and the Resulting Psychosis of Said Experience

2011-08-03T04:52:00.001-05:00

...okay lemmings, you have been very patient. Today...or late tonight, or actually...early this morning...I give you...POKER HELL!!!!! And why, if you are ever considering stepping foot into a poker room in Florida, you may want to look yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath...and ask yourself; "Okay buddy, is this really what you want to do? Is this something you are prepared for? Because if you answer 'yes' to this...there really is no looking back."

Is that what its supposed to feel like? I don't think so!

If I am standing over your shoulder, anywhere near that mirror, and consider myself even kind of a good friend, I will do everything to talk you out of it...sort of like a friend would try to convince his 157lb buddy to NOT take up MMA.

This is a story about WHY I will most likely NEVER step foot in another Dog Track Poker Room as long as I live.

Observe. And Learn. Lets start with some sexiness:

As you can tell, she wants about as much to do with you as I do!!!

See this hottie? Do you think she was at Pensacola Dog Track this past weekend? Please. Don't be a friggin retard. Of course she wasn't. And good thing too...because I notice she is wearing headphones. Which are inevitably attached to something like an iPod. These are electronic devices, which along with cell phones, iPads and even handheld massage devices, are viewed with as much scrutiny as though you pulled out a live grenade...yanked the pin, and dared someone...anyone...to make a move in your direction.

There could be three rule violations occur on the same hand, a player reach across and punch another player, and an explosion happen off three tables away, and if the dealer saw your cell phone on the black bumper of the table...THAT would take precedence.

I must stress something. I have no problem following rules. For the most part. IF...and this is a BIG IF...they make one ounce of sense. The more we play, and the more time that goes by...we are slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) evolving as a game, to the point where the gaps are starting to fill in, meaning...the rules are getting more and more universal. But then...on a whim, you decide to take a walk into a Dog Track poker room, or hell, your local Moose Club, VFW, etc etc...and everything you thought you had learned (absorbed/had beaten into you mentally) about the rules and policies of what is allowed and not allowed, flies right out the fuckin window. And what makes it worse? The people who are enforcing those rules? You would never win an argument with them on ANY topic.

"Dude...1+1 is totally 2. Are you kidding me? This isn't even a discussion."

Stupid Jackass working the floor at possible poker room: "Sir...I'm not going to tell you this again. In our poker room...1+1 is definitely 3. It is a TDA rule. I would show you the rule book, but I simply don't have time. But I would ask that you stop being difficult or we will have to ask you to leave."


*OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!*

You look around. Someone? Please? Come on? Ashton? You hiding behind the counter over there? No way...is this really happening?

"Ohhhhh myyyyy Gooooddddd....someone has a phone....a PHONE! Everyone hit the floor!!!"

Dealer pushes into my table...during their 'Main Event' (I know...shhhh...stop laughing) and all the locals know him. He knows them. At some point he mentions having been a dealer now for 15 years. Cool. Hopefully knows what he is doing. They have a HUGE issue with people exposing their cards over there...and are quick to pull the trigger on the 10-hand penalty if caught doing so. Oh...and don't accidentally have one of your cards turn over when folding either. YOU'RE BUSTED! To the penalty box for you buster!!!!

I'm in the big blind. A guy in 3rd position raises. It folds to me. I look at 10-3 off for about the 12th time that day.

"Hey....why wouldn't I have 10-3 off suit again!!?? Sweeeet! I fold!" And flick my cards in the muck face up.

Dealer: "Hey buddy...I'm supposed to give you a penalty for that, but I'm just gonna warn you this time."

Me: "You're kidding right? Huh? You're not kidding? Um...there is NO action behind me. I am not affecting anyone's action. What am I doing wrong? I'm showing my horrible play by folding such a monster? Am I somehow a suspect of collusion? I know, no one in their right mind would EVER fold 10-3 offsuit there, right? What ARE you talking about!???"

Dealer: "Hey look, I'm just trying to be nice to you. I am totally supposed to call the floor over and give you a penalty. You aren't allowed to EVER expose your hand."

You gotta be fucking kidding me??? So I managed to find the current shift/floor manager and ask if they are seriously doling out penalties for those situations. I explained it to him. A look of embarrassment appeared on his face...and he asked which dealer it was. Mmmmhmmmm...just as I suspected. A rogue moronic dealer. But then I asked a question that didn't seem too off base.

ME: "Do you guys have pre-shift meetings with your dealers? Where you cover the basic rules and policies? Especially as they pertain to poker tourneys? As opposed to cash games? I mean...I asked for permission to use my iPad the first day I was here...was told I could as long as I kept it OFF the table, and wasn't on it while in a hand. No problem...but every SINGLE dealer that has pushed into my table the last three days has made an issue out of it...most of them even calling over the floor person to have them tell me I can't use it. Only to find out I can. I mean...just a helpful suggestion that having a pre-shift meeting and covering all of these things might save a lot of time, as well as player aggravation."

I was told that they do NOT have pre-shift meetings. Of course not. Why would they? That would actually make sense. I rest my case.

A guy I don't know very well...but who is a good guy, and seems pretty non-confrontational in nature decides to share this story with me. Good stuff.


*When I think of 'dangerous terrorists' I immediately picture someone like this dude.*

Most of you know I carry a bag...some call it a Man Purse, or Satchel, or Messenger Bag...I just call it....'My Bag.' A lot of players have started carrying bags similar to mine. They are very useful. A lot of us carry stuff like iPads, headphones, glasses, wallet, and other various items that you need a bag to transport around with you. Well...a lot of guys choose a more 'masculine' form of packaging. I give you...the backpack. Used by terrorists all over the world, anyone seen walking around with a backpack on immediately arouses the suspicions of everyone, correct? Huh? Okay...no they don't. In fact, if you travel to Europe...which I hesitate to suggest you will see any of the security personnel at a Dogtrack appearing in their lifetime, you will see a large majority of the citizens over there sporting backpacks. Why? They do a lot of train and bus riding, as gas is stupidly expensive...and mass transit is a way of life.

Hence, when you are at say, the WSOP all summer...you see a TON of guys and gals gallivanting around with backpacks on their back. Pretty damn common.

If, however, you decided to walk into the Pensacola DogTrack this past week, or apparently, any other week from what I hear...sporting a backpack, also known around those parts as a 'suicide pack' I gather...you are immediately escorted off of the property by two security officers.

This is what happened to my poker associate. And as I would have responded, he at first thought they were kidding. Then when the joke grew into a serious topic, he started to become angry. Then requested to see the poker room manager. It never really did get resolved that night. So the next day when he returned, he left his backpack at home. But then watched as several other players walked in with theirs...no questions asked. Oh...but wait...then he watched a guy get kicked out. What is going on here?

Finally, someone went to 'THE TOP' which at the Dogtrack...I can only assume is the first person making more than $10 an hour...and they managed to settle the situation. Players with backpacks would be allowed in during the 'duration of the poker tournaments' and then things would 'return to normal (again that is me you hear snickering...at the word, NORMAL) after the poker tournaments were over.'

If someone can explain to me why I can carry in my bag, which holds close to the same volume as a backpack, or why Jenny Sue can carry in her over-sized purse without any kind of scrutiny, but a backpack is seen as a weapon of mass destruction, I would love to hear it. Holyyyyyyy shit.

This place is chocked full of douchebags. Yes...I did a little diddy on douchebags yesterday, and trust me, I have literally opened a file on my desktop and saved over 50 photos and videos of 'what a douchebag is.' I will say this...I also saw a lot of good folks who I used to play a good amount with in Biloxi. The thing is...they were just as put off by the same douchebags I was...so at least I didn't feel like I was completely alone.


*If the glove fits...you MUST convict!!!*

One such douchebag...was a guy they called Big Mike. Or Big Asshole. Or...fucking douchebag. I did take his picture, but out of respect to his (poor thing) wife...I won't publish it. We had a gal who was friends with my buddy sitting at the bar with us one night...and this peckerhead was disgustingly undressing her with his eyes. Several times she wanted to say something to him. I was all for it. I just asked that she please think of the perfect thing though...then go over and deliver it with majestic precision, so that it would be guaranteed to humiliate him in front of all of his poker playing peers. She relented, and my night failed to improve.

This is a guy who is 39 but acts like he's 13. He is really a fan of the 4 or 5 fist pump after winning a hand...regardless of the pot size. If a player wins a hand against him...he stands up...paces the table...and tells the guy how lucky he got...that it won't happen again. Suddenly from across the room...you will hear that unmistakeable sound...

"Ohhhhh yeah!!! Yessss yesssss yesssss (fist pump fist pump fist pump)....shipppp it....baby...yes!!!!!" This assclown clearly just won the Masters!

On Thursday night, I witnessed that. That was Day 1 of my walk through the mental ward. I raised my eyebrows and asked if anyone who would feel compelled to respond...."what in the hell was that!???"

"Oh. Yeah. Well....that's 'ol Mike. He's kind of a peckerhead."

Kind of?

Mmmmm..yeah...I kind of just figured that out. On Day 2 of my visit to the Looney Bin...while playing cash game...after losing the nightly they have over there...he was wandering around my table. I had just enough courage juice in me to ask him a few questions.

Me: "Your name is Mike? I'm just curious...how old are you?"

He tells me 39. Then he goes on to tell me that we have played together before...a few years ago, at the Beau Rivage. Tells me we didn't get along (no way!) and that I was put off by his incessant crowing to 'ship it' whenever he won a pot.

Me: "Really? Wow...I find that so incredibly easy to believe. I do not, however, remember ever playing with you. I probably pushed it to the back of my psyche with whatever powers I possess to suppress traumatic poker experiences."

He goes on to tell me why a guy like him and a guy like me would never be friends. I think he was babbling something about him being a Type A personality and me being the same...which, sorry...I have no idea if any of that has any validity or not...but I went with a much more simplistic explanation that I felt held a lot more weight.

ME: "Um, no, I would have to disagree and say the reason why we would never be friends, is due to me being cool, and you being a douchebag. Yup...that, I think, would be the main reason...and I will just stick with that diagnosis."


*It's really not all that complicated...as you can see.*

Another such douchebag at this place was a guy named 'Chuck.' After three days of playing poker at Pensacola Dog Track...I now, 100% officially hate this guy. He is despicable. My initial experience with him...and there were a lot of them...is that he seemed to materialize at every damn table I was placed at, was in the Thursday night Mega satellite.

He is one of those old guys who likes to intentionally slow the game down. He thinks his talking like Bobby Bowden is charming...when actually, its just fucking annoying. He thinks his fun little stories are entertaining...when they are anything BUT. He does appear (somehow) to have some money...and he throws it around by staking the local skanks...most of them between the ages of 35-50...in hopes (OBV) that it will score him a piece of pity pie...and by pie, don't be confused, I am not referring to that round thing that Auntie May puts in the window to cool off.

Another thing he likes to do is angle-shoot the shit out of the poker table. When the blinds are 100-200...twice I busted him trying to complete light...by using green chips and trying to get away with sticking 150 or 175 out there and hurriedly tossing it into the pot. Then playing stupid when he was caught. Scumbag. He was real big on acting out of turn...to try and dissuade the person behind him from raising. He also liked to grab his whole stack, acting like he was about to go all in...when the person behind him was contemplating his act. Just a dickhead.

But the one that really took the cake...was on another hand that he massively overbet (first to act) which he did CONSTANTLY...he makes it 1800 at 150/300...under the gun...and this nice little hispanic guy, who really hadn't uttered a word to anyone, and had really had a frustrating tourney up to that point...goes all in for 2400. It folds back to Chuck the Asshole...who haws and hems....claims to not have much of a hand...but then finally calls. The Hispanic guy turns over 99. Chuck moans...like he is way behind. But doesn't turn over his cards.

Me: "Hey dealer...this isn't cash game...tell him to turn his cards over."

Dealer does nothing. Why? Are they afraid of Chuck? Does Chuck just get to play by a different set of rules than everyone else? Oh...how I hate Chuck. The flop goes out...we still don't see Chuck's hand. The turn is a K...to go with 7-10-3. Finally he lets us all see ONE ACE. Leaving the other card unexposed.

Dealer? Are you fucking serious???

The river was an 8. This other guy is almost positive he has won, and doubled up. I for one, am happy for the guy...then all of a sudden, SUPERPRICK...slides his ace over to expose...oh...how bout that, another ace. What a fucking jerkoff. And the nice Hispanic guy was eliminated. Squirrel and I saw Captain America the other night. They had these weapons, developed by the Evil German dude...that just vaporized people when fired at them. That is what I wished I could have done to 'ol Chuck right there. Douchebag??? Ohhhhh I think so.

Chuck would haunt me all weekend. Probably the biggest, most gut-wrenching moment occurred when...while playing the $700 Main Event...which, of course, he was at my table...I had worked my stack up to 26,000 after struggling all day. He limps on the button for 800. The lady in the SB...who he had staked, completed. I look down at KK. I make it 2600 to go. He snap calls (big shock) and she moans and grimaces...and asks why I didn't 'tell her' I was going to raise?

"Um...because that would be colluding maam...sorry."

No big deal ...she is going to win the hand anyway. The flop comes A-A-5. Great. I won't try to surprise you. I will just tell you what she has. Pocket fives. And this is how a lot of these clowns played over there...would she check raise the flop there? Hell no. Why would she ever want to get any value out of that hand? Nawwwww...she just shoves all in. Yeah, well...pretty easy fold for me. But dingleberry Chuck? He has A9. No way he can fold. Some how...he failed to hit a 9 or any other random collection of bullshit that would save him. Fortunately, she was only all in for 3400...so he merely doubled up his stake pony.

VERY NEXT HAND: 6 players limp for 800. I complete in the SB with K9. Granted I would have completed with a deuce and an inadvertently placed Joker card in that situation. Ready for the flop??? Q-10-J. That's all. Just the second nuts. And since I was pretty positive no one limped in with AK...I was quite certain I was good. And it was a rainbow flop...so checking the flop seemed pretty safe. Which I did. The big blind...who held Q5...goes all in. For 3900. This other guy tanks...forever...and just calls. Then good 'ol Chuck the Fuck goes all in...for 22k. I snap call. Back to the tanker...who tanks some more...then finally folds.

Chuckles has J10. And tells the dealer....'Come on baby...I only need a Jack or a ten sweetheart....give 'ol Chuck a Jack or a 10..."

So what does she do? She gives that son of a bitch a Jack...right on the turn. And I just lowered my head...stared at the black bumper of the table..and asked why God is being such an asshole to me this year. Why...of all times...when, if there was ANY kind of KARMA swinging my way...would this fucktard NOT hit a damn boat right there? I could be rid of this piece of shit...be sitting on 53k...and probably cruise to the money? Why?

Earlier...when I had raised...and he had done another one of his patented 'one move only' all ins...I just about lost it. I folded 99. And he shows AA. Huh? Great move. Brilliant. This is when he starts in on me.

"Oh...Mr. Pro...you wouldn't have done that I suppose? You know as well as I do that if you had AA there you wouldn't want to get them cracked...and would have shoved too!"

Okay. Two things. (1) I told him "Chuck, I can tell you with absolutely 100% certainty that NO, I would not ever...EVER...be pushing all in with AA...especially with the stacks being what they are. I happen to be a player who is not afraid to play after the flop, a player who doesn't feel the need to push all in nearly every time he raises because I can't play postflop. And (2) Why is it that whenever I go to play in a place like this...and dealers recognize me as a pro, as well as a few other players...that it is suddenly something that the local jokals like yourself decide to use against me...as if its an insult. 'The Big Pro this' and the 'The Big Pro that.' Am I supposed to be hurt or offended by that? Am I supposed to apologize to you because this is what I do for a living?


*Are you threatening me????*

I don't go around to small venues touting myself as a Bigshot Pro or anything. Ever. In fact...to even imagine acting like that or letting those kind of words escape my face, would make me want to slug myself. It just doesn't ever happen. But do I see dealers and players who know me and might tell the table that I am who I am? Yeah..it happens, a lot. And it's always somewhat embarrassing, not that I think the dealer is trying to make me look bad. Its just awkward. So why are these fucking dickwads like Chuck deciding its a sport now to declare war on me? Like I said...I really hate Chuck.


*That's right sir. I am who he says I am...what are you gonna do about it!!!???*

Eventually, Chuck would get moved from my table. Didn't happen soon enough. And I was trying to rebuild my crippled stack. It didn't work out for me. I got it in...with 6000 chips left at 800/1600...with J9 suited...and mainly did it when I did because this lady in the BB would fold to just about ANY raise unless she literally had a top 5 hand. She was tighter than an 8 year old in Amish country. Wait..that works, right? But waking up with AJ was the same guy who just took a majority of my chips a few hands earlier when his AJ found my AK....and promptly three-outed me.

"I'll give you back your chips." Um...no you won't...guy who has me dominated...and me who never three-outs anyone. I was out.

I promised you some awesome hands from my experience over there. Ya ready? Before I say this...I should express...that over-betting the shit out of everything, is all the rage at the DogTrack. Often times, they overbet SO much...that when a small stack goes all in, behind a huge overbet and 4 callers (not that anyone would ever want to three-bet over there...its just so much easier to flat the 6x raise and hope you get lucky on the flop after you have put 25-40% of your stack in preflop!!!!) the betting was cut off from being able to isolate with a re-raise. Some of the shit I saw over there was beyond comical. Actually, for those who have been reading my blog for awhile...you know what it most closely resembled? Easy. The way they played at that fucked up charity event in Lafayette, Louisiana. Remember that nightmare? Almost an exact replica.

And we're off:

#1 at 100/200 in middle position I raise with El Diablo...suited. (that's K10 to you newbies to the Monkey Zone) The raise is 525. I get looked up by the button with K8 off and the BB with Q8 off. Flop comes 5-6-7 rainbow. BB goes all in. I fold of course (idiot) and the button calls. Brick turn, Brick river...K8 gets all of morons chips.

#2. at 100/200...two limpers. Guy to my right in Seat 3 (that evenings ejection seat) who has literally JUST sat down, with a relatively decent stack...decides to make it 700 to go. Only one caller. The flop comes Q-7-9...two spades. First guy leads out for 1500 (he has AQ) Dipshit new guy shoves all in. The other calls, begrudgingly..and turns over AQ. Moron...just flicks his cards into the area of the pot...face down. We all sit, blank expressions aplenty...wondering just WHAT in the FUCK this clown is doing. It's obvious he has been caught bluffing with total air...but he seems to think he is drawing dead. When clearly, he isn't...not with ANY two cards? So the dealer insists he take them back and turn them over...which finally, he does, and reveals 4-8h. Nice hand sir. And no...he does not suck out. Fun hand.

#3. This was a hand where a guy raised from 50/100 to 300 with Q10. No one called except the BB...who was holding J3 off. Nice hand. The flop comes J-3-A...rainbow. BB checks. The raiser bets 500. The BB goes ALL IN! For 4500! And did the Q10 snap fold? Nope! He snap CALLED. Yeah...and turns a King, of course. Fun game. I sat there shaking my head...asking if what I just saw really happened. The guy with the J3 starts berating the guy. I snicker to myself...reminding myself that this fool also called the preflop raise with J3. Skill baby. Skill.

#4. This lady...ugh...who in Vegas would be a .5, maybe a 1...if she did her makeup just right (and was wearing boots)...but in Pensacola was looked at as one of the local 'hotties' and yes...again, I am giggling as I type this...played about as horrendously as any player I have seen in a long time. Rumor had it she won a recent event there...while I would typically find this hard to believe...in this place? No I don't. I'm sure she probably did. The blinds are 50/100. She raises UTG to 600. Not one, not two, not even three or four...but five people call her. Nice table image! Then the small blind goes all in...for another 475. Whoops. Your overbet means you won't be able to isolate by re-raising. In fairness, I don't think she would even if she could have had the option. It's just not how she..or a majority of these other buffoons play poker over there. So they ALL call...and now you are looking at about a 6k pot preflop...at 50/100. The flop comes Q-10-8. She is first to act. Guess what she has? I shall tell you. J-9. Off suit. Oh! Did I mention? It's her favorite hand. I see why. Guess how she plays it? Check raise? A little bet to maybe induce action? Nope. ALL FUCKING IN! Of course no one calls, well, except the guy who is already all in. And he has nothing. Nice hand lady. Well played. Now go bury your face in the trough and eat some more of those oats that the farmer put out for you.

#5. Good 'ol Chuck. Sitting under the gun...he is the chipleader early in the Friday night tourney. The blinds are 50/100 and he has close to 15k. He announces 'ALL IN'...to which everyone just sits there with that astonished 'wtf is he doing' look on their faces....we all fold, and he shows AK. Hmmm yeah...solid play Chuck. I watched Chuck make this play (also with AQ and AJ) about 5 times in three days.

And the other hand I had on my list...which I was writing in my ledger book, and had titled "Holy Fucking Shit Did I Really Just Watch This Hand" was that one where he slow-rolled the shit out of the Mexican with his AA. No need to repeat that horseshit again.

So there you go. That blog entry just took me over three hours. Wow. That is a long time. Hope you enjoyed it. And I hope this helps in your decision...whenever that time may come for you...to either go or avoid like the torture chamber...a trip to 'The Track' to get your poker on.

Good night now...the owl flies at 4:32am

MONKEY

Hmmm...tough tough call today....

2011-08-01T22:28:00.002-05:00

I am in full-on panic mode. Faced with the toughest decision in recent memory. What to blog about. I have been brought to tears (in a comical reference) four....count it...FOUR times in the past two days. This, yes boys and girls...is a fucking record I think.

First...thanks for the 9,697 hits last month. It would have easily hit 10,000...were it not for NetworkBlogs crappin out for two days and not 'pulling' my last two blogs to the Facebook and Twitter world like its supposed to do. But whatever. We can aim higher next month. Why do I care how many hits I get? I don't. Then why talk about it? Because...I like to count. I like to compete. And yeah...in this one, I am competing against ME! I can beat him...I can beat that over-rated piece of shit.

I know, I know...I teased you all with the DogTrack upcoming 'holy shit did I really just witness that go down' reference from a previous post. And trust me...I won't let it go without a mention. Because there is plenty of shit to share...most of it I was smart enough to write down. But in the interest of not making this the LONGEST blog in the history of Monkey Blogs....I think I will do something unique and altogether historic. I will write FOUR blogs...save three of them as 'drafts' and release them to you Blog Mongers one day at a time. And I will start with the one that brought the most tears to my eyes.

Bad Beat: On break...discussing how 'Chuck the Pensacola Douchebag' has hit a boat on my flopped straight to suck out on me, literally, for the fourth time in three days on a hand that would have eliminated his stupid ass...with Lynn Morris (nice guy from Pensacola, who eventually would chop that tourney 6-handed)...when, holding my prescription glasses in left hand (with a sharp edge exposed when folded shut) I go to scratch my cheek, and brush the sharp edge against the left nostril of my nose...which causes a large cut. I proceed to bleed profusely from my nose from the time of said conversation until my eventual elimination from the Pensacola DogTrack Donkfest Saturday.

My 4Runner apparently has a fucking demon in it. After taking it in for some general maintenance items...it is determined that the electrical gremlin in my car cannot be pinpointed. Thus requiring my vehicle to 'live' at Bob Tyler Toyota for...oh hell, probably the rest of the summer. Sort of impairs my ability to bend to peer pressure and drive to Tunica for the backside of the Goldstrike poker tourney. Also keeps me at home...doing, ahem....jack shit. So after making a 'hero' call with AK against an early position pusher for 85% of my stack...and going up against the always dominating hand of AJ...and of course, losing...I started furiously texting Squirrel to please come get me...get me the fuck outa this place. Before I collect a pack of these Greyhounds, strap them to a busted-down closet door and have them sled-dog my ass back to Biloxi.

She complied with my wishes. She picked up 'The Claw'...who failed to materialize, along with her hermit of a boyfriend, Gabe Costner...in Pensacola for the $700 Donkfest...and headed East to rescue me. One of her girlfriends was in Orange Beach for the weekend, so we made it a 'night out' followed by drive home. I won't lie...I found the necessary elixir to put my self into a zone to overide what I just spent 10 hours compiling in my brain and body. It put me into the 'zombie zone.' So when Squirrel kept demanding that I 'TALK TO JAMES!!!' when we were sitting in the balcony at Flori-Bama watching random white-trash douchebags and losers I had to finally tell her to 'leave me the hell alone...James is fine...we are friends, he gets it...where I am right now mentally...he doesn't need to be babysat, now please...leave me alone, grrrrrr.'

Claudia and I developed a violent case of 'The Munchies' and decided to take a walk in search of tacos...which were being sold from a trailer in the ....'lot' (??) out front of the bar. This is when eye-watering conversation #1 took place.

Claudia...out of nowhere...asks me how funny I think it would be if you could projectile vomit on cue...and aim it in a specific direction. And then the animated demonstrations began. Hitting a girl from across the room. Hitting a guy in the back of the head after you already shamed him and hit him in the face. As each new case was presented, my laughter got harder...my stomach began to hurt...my eyes watering like I was watching Old Yeller getting shot out in the barn.

We returned to our friends. Finished our drinks...said our goodbyes, and drove back to Biloxi...at, yeah...3am. We got home about 5am. Now...you would THINK...given my propensity to sleep in, that her and I would have slept all day Sunday. You would be ....WRONG! Nope, I let the dogs out at 10:15am, and noticed it WASNT raining...for once. Time to turn the marsh back into a respectable looking lawn. Mowing, edging, weed-eating, blowing...only took 4.5 hours. On the third pass, I nearly ended the life of a cute little frog. But I saved him...picked him up and put him on the patio...where I didn't notice, Squirrel was sweeping out.

She started screaming...and jumped up on the wicker chair. What the....oh yeah, I just realized, she is terrified of frogs!!! I started laughing. She got more nuts...demanded I remove the frog. Now Mollie and Jasper were after it! Okay, okay...I took the frog and put him over the fence.

Finished all our chores...then went to dinner at Outback, where we had a slightly 'challenged' waiter. Medium-rare translated to medium-well. Getting refills on Ice Tea was like getting the debt ceiling raised. After that we went to see 'Captain America' which I wanted to see LAST week. It was good. A little hokey in parts...but overall, very entertaining. And more impressively, a Box Office hit has managed to not include one single curse word. Not sure that was even possible until I saw it with my own two eyes!

My replacement BOSE headphones finally showed up today. It's never taken this long...and it was on my to-do list to call them today to find out 'whats up' when they magically showed up on my doorstep this morning.

Squirrel just got off work early...and called to tell me she has a weird craving for pancakes. Yeah...at 10pm. Okay. Well, I told her she better pick up some blueberries then...so I will write these other three segments later tonight and post them later...as I am hearing the garage door opening and watching the dogs go running to meet her...its breakfast for dinner time!!!!

Upcoming blogs>>>

The three days of hell spent playing poker at a dogtrack...with itemized hands and encounters with...uh...individuals.

The return of Chad Burns...and marathon thread on my Facebook...with newborn priority on 're-education' of the Orange Troll

The discovery of 'The Female Kai Landry...only, quite possibly, funnier.' Her name is Jenny Lawson, wife of a guy named Victor...goes by the blog name of The Bloggess. I was sent the link to her latest entry "Would You Like to Buy a Monkey" featuring a picture of 'Copernicus.'

I then proceeded to check out this gal's whole blog page. Some of the funniest shit I have ever....EVER...read in my life. She is intelligent, witty, funny, sharp as a tack. In fact, I might not even need to write an entry on her...this might have already been enough to get you over there. Just CLICK here to check out her site. I've already added her as one of my 'favorite links' on this site...so.

And then we have a blog dedicated to the origins of the word DOUCHEBAG. And to be honest...there is enough content there to start a whole blog solely committed to ridding the world of douchebags...and yes, I am not going to deny that this was initially motivated and inspired by the re-emergence of Chad Burns...that little runt...who has now taken to trying to sabotage my marriage by sending little messages to Squirrel. More on all that later...I promise.

On the off chance you aren't familiar with what a 'douchebag' of the male variety is...this should help you a little bit. Remind you of anyone you know???

Lastly...there will be an upcoming blog, of the serious nature...on and about a guy named Jarred Lucius...a guy who lives in Memphis, just got hired as a police officer, and who has a horrible brain condition that requires an operation that costs around $100,000. I am not sure if I have ever met this fella. I don't even know where I heard about his situation...but it is dire. He is young, has a lovely young girlfriend...and seems like he has an awful lot to live for and a lot of loving people in his corner. He also plays poker. I feel compelled to try and do something BIG to help this guy. Something like...maybe organizing a large benefit poker tourney...where? Not sure. When? Not sure. I've never done anything like this before, and not sure what he requires or entails...but the idea of helping to save someone's life really inspires me to make it happen.

If you are on Facebook...maybe friend request the guy...or just check him out. Also...if you are wanting to get on MY Facebook friend list and haven't yet...please do...but PLEASE include a MESSAGE telling me who you are (blog reader) and why I need to ACCEPT you without question. I currently have 68 in the 'friend request' holding pattern who I am just waiting for to tell me who they are. Also...if you want a glimpse into what a gigantic douchebag Chad Burns is...check out my WALL POST

William PokerMonkey Souther
Dogtrack poker room+ cell phone+ psychotic floor person+ paranoid dealers= most annoying, ridiculous playing experience EVER!

There are now about 58 comments under it...including about 15 from 'The Orange Menace from Houston' which...if you are unfamiliar with...will certainly demonstrate for you all the reasons why he should be eliminated like a bad strain of ebola.

Catch you guys later.

Monkey

On Tap...'The Dogtrack $700"

2011-07-30T12:18:00.000-05:00

If you live in the Pensacola area...today's poker tourney is like the Indy 500. For the rest of us its just another tourney. Sort of.

I am currently working on what should be very amusing for all of you hard-core poker players. Today is Day 3 in...well, I'm staying in Perdido Key actually. The first two days saw me play the Mega satellite (lost with KK vs. AK...obv) and the nightly yesterday (KJ vs. AQ flop K-J....turn, of course...a 10) before working in a couple of cash sessions. I made quads three times in two days and won some lovely parting gifts from the DogTrack poker room.


Fun Place! You see a guy lose repeatedly in the cash game...two minutes later he is back with a fistful of tickets...and a reborn enthusiasm...as he roots for his new favorite pooch to get him outa the hole!

What I have witnessed here will make your head, quite possibly, become separated from your body...and roll across the floor. Hands you have seen played out in other venues, where you had to just shake your head (reference ANY tourney you have EVER played in Tunica here) you will look back on with a sense of dismissal after playing here for even one hour. I finally took to documenting individual hands...less I somehow accidentally purge the memory of them from my brain and its diminishing capacity to remember ridiculous encounters having to do with poker.

This is like a wasteland for poker dealers and players over here. Dealers I haven't seen since the days of The Grand in Biloxi. Players who...when I used to play with them were old...now are on life support. A lot of guys I hoped I would never, ever see again...some I remember quite fondly. Its been quite an interesting experience over here. I don't have time to get into all these goofy, comical hands right now... mainly because I fully expect to ADD to them today in the 'Big Tourney' or whatever the hell they are calling this donkfest at the dogtrack.

I'm staying with James Ray in his cool little condo in Perdido. I took my 4Runner to the shop for some routine maintenance. But then...the day before, it starts doing this weird thing where the stereo stays on AFTER I turn off the engine AND remove the key. Huh? Yeah. And everything else electric. Resulting in a drained battery twice. The word from the dealership is: 'We aren't sure what is going on there...but we will continue to investigate (which means labor+labor+labor+labor=holy shit!!!) until we figure it out. They close today at 4pm. They are closed on Sunday. Have a feeling I am going to be stuck here til Monday.

I ended up buying my $700 entry for $550. A lot of people have extra entries they can't get rid of....so they sell them at a discount. Good. Putting $700 into this thing is a spooky thought. I mean...these people are SO bad, you can't bring yourself to believe you are witnessing some of the hands you are watching go down. I think today's strategy is going to have to be to just play super tight, look for a good spot to double up...then just play divide and conquer all day!

Gabe and Claudia are coming over to play...so at least I can count on there being 4 good players in the tourney, at least.

They are fanatical about the cell phone over here. Like...its ridiculous. And the iPad? Had four people at the table secretly go to floor person complaining about it...not because it was doing anything to harm them, or slow the game down. Nope, they just don't know what the hell it was...I think it frightened them. Like it was a crystal ball I was using to tell me the upcoming flops...or my opponents hands. I literally feel like I am on another Poker Planet when I am playing over here. It is a damn trip.

Last night, I turn on this show on...I don't know what channel...about 'The Hunt for Bigfoot.' These idiots driving around in Oregon...calling what they are doing 'Bigfooting' I am typically not a cynic when it comes to stuff like UFO's and Bigfoot and whatnot. But this show was SO obviously concocted by a bunch of jackasses. Dork was floating down a river with his dork posse...and literally delivers this classic line. "We might not be able to see any Squatches right now...but all the elements are here for Squatches...and you can be certain that there ARE Squatches present here. I guarantee it!!! It had so many glaring signs of 'bullshit' and their leader became so unbearable that I couldn't make it another minute. Click.

Props to everyone for making this the #1 month in blog hits. Thanks to Adam Williamson for the shout out on his Twitter to get me peaked out. We are at like 9400 right now with two days left. Sick. Is 10k possible? Why not? Okay...I gotta get a shower and get outa here. Have 45 minutes and its a 20 minute drive. Got a nice seat draw at least...seat 5. Who knows? Maybe I will run good today? Could that possibly happen? We'll see!

MONKEY

BANG BANG....YOU'RE DEAD!!!

2011-07-28T01:04:00.000-05:00

Yeah. I know. Two blog posts in one day. Okay...technically, its after midnight...and we can say its not really two in one day. But you know it is. So...who cares. I have had two things come to my attention in the past four hours that must be shared.

One comes from Chris Hunichen, my former 'teammate' on Bustout Poker. He lives in Raleigh, North Carolina. And the other night...a poker game in his neighborhood was 'interrupted' by a couple of retards donning ski masks and guns. It was touted by the local news as a 'high-stakes' poker game...even though it was just a friendly 1/2 game. Love how the media always blows shit out of proportion.


Just look at these two assholes. One is dead...the other is wounded and sitting in jail on 1.15m bail. Not sure which one is dead...does it matter? They both had records of assault. Peace out fuckers!

CLICK HERE FOR A LINK TO THIS STORY OF STUPIDITY!!!!!

Good thing our lawmakers have made online poker illegal. Now instead of sitting in the privacy of our homes...degenning away our families bill money, WITH our family, we get to drive across town...away from our family...and degen it away there instead...with an outside shot of getting shot and killed. Good thinking, pricks. Home of the Brave...Land of the Free? Really? I call bullshit. Anyway we can move this next election up a year? How long before China puts their little 'made in China' sticker on the bottom of the USA?

Here you go. This will brighten your day. Do you like total dark, dry, cynical humor? Kind of like mine? Thought you did...so that's why I am letting you in on a little secret. For months this guy was friend requesting me. And I looked at this face...and was like "who the fuck IS this old peckerhead!???"


This is NOT my Grandfather...or YOURS!

So...not wanting to be mean to the old fart, I sent him a message asking who he was, or how we knew each other? He replied in a way (rude) that caused me to just write him off. Bastard! Well...over the summer, I came to be friends with a guy...a fellow player, who I have known for quite awhile but never really got to know. Until this summer. Then he let me in on the little secret. Robert Pringle...is really him. Ohhhhh....I see. So I instantly friend requested him...and discovered all that I had been missing these past few months.

After I wiped the tears out of my eyes from laughing...I started thinking to myself...Hmmmm, self, maybe creating an alter ego...a dark, shadowy, mystery person, would be a good idea, to avoid putting myself in a bad light, while still getting to say the sick, twisted things that are on my mind. Like 'ol Robert Pringle here. If you enjoy laughing at sick, sick shit...I would highly recommend FRIEND REQUESTING Robert Pringle on Facebook....tell him (in a message when you do the request) that Monkey sent you!

Also, to the 64 people (and growing) who have friend requested me over the summer...who I have yet to respond to...if you are reading this and have yet to figure out why I haven't approved you yet? I am a stickler for letting people on my Facebook. I must either (a) know you (b) know you read this or (c) have some 'reason' for wanting you to be on my Facebook list. So simply send me a message telling me WHY I want to approve you. Without sounding like a jerkoff. Why are people so lazy these days that they can't just attach a simple note? I'm not trying to conquer the world of Facebook...seeing how many friends I can have! Porn stars, Playmates and Hometown Hotties...you need not provide me a reason to approve you. You are just being kept around for the photos, and the interesting posts you make that make me realize how much smarter my wife is than all of you.

I am happy to announce that my Seattle Mariners have snapped their 17-game losing streak...routing the Yankees today 9-2 behind a strong performance by defending Cy Young winner Felix "King" Hernandez. Thank God!!! Also collecting a complete game NO-HITTER for my fantasy team was Ervin Santana of the Angels. My fantasy team currently holds a 14-3 lead (we score by categories in our head to head matchups) over my opponent. Who knows? Maybe the Mariners and I are going to start turning shit around starting today!!!!! Huh? Whatever. Ignore me and my fantasy dork psycho babble bullshit. I am.

Monkey

This Ship Might be A-Sailin!!!!

2011-07-27T18:28:00.000-05:00


Come on animals...hop on board...this shit sails in less than a week!!!

Yeah...okay, so its now been a week since I have been home. I have a chest cold that is kicking my ass, which has kept me from wandering down to the I.P. and starting the first leg of my 'stay at home' job. You got it, I am going to try my hand at being a 'cash game player.' Putting in 4-5 hour shifts. Cutting losses when I must, leaving when I am up a set amount. You know...a 'real' job-like strategy. I am really going to try NOT being on the road so much this year. I mean, some events you just can't help not missing out on...Borgata, a few various circuit events.

In the week that I have been home...it has rained every single day. I couldn't buy a drop of rain before I left...now its ridiculous. The backyard is like a swamp. I decided yesterday that it might be a good idea to start construction on an Ark. I mean, 2012 is just right around the corner. The tough part is coming up with a way to locate two of every animal on the planet. What a pain in the ass!!!

I am attempting to watch 'Inception' for about the 5th time. I have never been able to figure it out. Does that make me stupid? Maybe.

I see the latest poll on the right has closed. I don't know if I am supposed to be shocked, or pleasantly surprised, that the #1 chosen thing that people would want to accomplish before they die was 'Find the Cure for Cancer.' Are you guys being sincere? Or is it just the 'feel good' answer? Out of 23 who played the game...12 of you picked the cancer option. Only 2 of you wanted to win the WSOP Main Event. The other top three...all with three picks...were 'Win the Lottery,' 'Be the President of the US,' and 'Save Someone's Life.' Guess it's time to come up with a new poll.

Congratulations to the NFL for working out their differences. They seemed to have kept the details of the new CBA pretty hush hush. I guess I really don't care that much, as long as both sides are happy to the point that we wont have to worry about another work stoppage for 7-10 years. All I know...is that I can now get on about the business of getting my football pools and fantasy leagues fired up...and not a moment too soon. My fantasy baseball team is in the tank...and my freaking Seattle Mariners...who on July 5th were 1.5 games out of first place...have now lost a franchise record (the MLB record, btw...is 23 games) 17 consecutive games. And most of them they either led, or ended up losing by 3 runs or less. What a nightmare. So hold the 'your team sucks' jokes. They really don't SUCK...in fact, they have phenomenal pitching...they just can't hit their weight.

Spent twenty minutes looking at Squirrel's 'US' magazine today. Why? I don't know. Wanted to hear why J-Lo and Marc Anthony split. Didn't learn much. But what I did learn...is that I am so freaking glad I never made it big in acting. My gawd....they have a picture of all these actors...caught doing 'everyday' activities...tying their shoe, using their ATM card, filling up with gas...you name it. I am absolutely stunned that enough people find this shit interesting enough to keep buying these magazines. What a joke.

There is a new game on the Zynga network capturing my attention. 'Hanging With Friends' which is a bit like a cross between Hang-Man and Wheel of Fortune. Its pretty hard. I'm a little surprised that I am spending the amount of time I am playing a game that has no financial benefit at all.

Last night, I had a really strange dream. My Mom had been carrying around this secret her whole life. How to make pay phones start coughing out quarters. She would do this weird thing where she picked up the phone...hit the plunger a few times...push some buttons on the keypad...then click the plunger again...and all these quarters came flying out of it. Whoa! Eventually, of course, this dream deviated...to the point that we were driving down a road in the car...and making huge quarter scores. The phone was in the car? No idea. Go ahead, Dream Doctors...figure that one out!

I hear the fields up in Tunica at the Goldstrike tournament have been great. Good! Glad to hear. First of all, for Tunica....after the floods it was really important for them, I think...to have a strong turnout for their first big poker tourney since they re-opened. Also, happy for the dealers...who I'm sure needed to make some money. And of course, for my fellow players, who are playing for 5-figure scores...which is always nice. I would have loved to have got up there for those tourneys...but honestly, Squirrel would have likely snapped if I had gone up there, after being gone all summer (7 weeks) in Vegas, spinning my wheels and coming home in non-glorious fashion.

Besides, after driving 1900 miles, and being so screwed up with sleep...it felt nice to just lay in bed for the better part of a week, sleeping, cuddling with my dogs, and getting re-focused. Been getting all my errands and 'to-do list' stuff done over the past week as well. Wanted to go work out...but this scratchy throat and chest congestion have kept that from happening.

This weekend in Pensacola, at the Dog Track over there...they are having a $50k Guarantee tourney, for a $700 buy in. There is a $100 mega for it tomorrow night (Thursday) that I might go over and play. My buddy James Ray has a place on the beach, and a boat...near Orange Beach...so I might stay there Thursday and Friday...and play the tourney on Saturday. It will also give me a chance to check on my rental property in Pensacola, as well as get a tuneup and oil change at my Toyota dealership over there that my buddy is the service manager at.

The last time I played at Pensacola Dog Track...some old, half-asleep guy slammed his truck into my 4Runner as I was leaving. I never have had that work done...so maybe when I get my car fixed for my recent damage, I can get that one fixed too. My poker experience over there wasn't very memorable. It was very short-lived. I will take a much different strategy into this next tourney...knowing that nobody over there folds ANYthing. Play tight. Play the nuts. Extract value from nut hands. Period.

If this year is going to be anything like LAST year...well, then I guess I am about to catch fire. Last year...I pretty much spent the first 8 months treading water...just like this year...winning just enough to keep playing, but not enough to get ahead. So if I can somehow have a fall even kind of close to last year's fall...everything will be just great. But that's going to be tough...last Sept/Oct were incredible. I miss running good like that!!!!

My current hits for this month are at 8200. Whoa. The record was a few months ago...the month Osama Bin Laden was killed...I got a lot of random hits from the shot up face of bin Laden that I posted...which accounted for me topping 9k. With 5 days left...I have a realistic shot and breaking that record...and all from nothing but legitimate 'poker' hits.

Oh...almost forgot. The pest reared his ugly, orange head again. Jeff Timms posted something on his Facebook last week about someone in Houston walking out to get $1200 to pay his insured 'marker' in a local cash game...but got in his car and drove away instead. I merely GUESSED at who it might be...and voila, was proven right. Never wrote about it, never even posted about it...merely guessed that it was 'his orangeness' and was told I was correct. Well, three days ago, Chad Burns invades my message box on Facebook...again. Using all the same stupid, tough guy insults...making the same empty threats. Squirrel was coming in from work, saw his name...and started to freak out.

"Again!!???? Will!!! WTF!???" Settle down Crazy Squirrel! The only thing that made me mad about the latest Orange Attack was her over-reacting thinking I did something to bring him out of the woodwork. I don't know what this guy's deal is...how he ever became such an incredible douchebag...or more importantly, how he pulls the shit he does in the greater Houston area and is still breathing air. Either Houstonians are great at making up stories, or they are just a bunch of total wussbags. Because...where I'm from...that guy would have been forced to move to another State a long time ago. Now...Texas, I understand is a very large state...so maybe they would allow him to go live in...say, El Paso...maybe Lubbock.

Good 'Ol Chad Burns...keeping that super-cool 'shirt under the shirt look alive and kicking.


Look at me...I am drinking cocktails...check it...see all those glasses sitting in front of me? Those used to belong to a girl. Notice how there are three of them? Yeah well...I guess when they walked away from me after another stupid one-liner they just forgot about their drink. MORE FOR ME!!!! Hahahaha LOL!!!

Yeah, his latest rant was that he 'heard' that I ran like shit all summer...that I bubbled nearly everything I played. Then asked how old I was again. Reiterating what a 'loser' I am that I have a backer at 44 years old. Then reflected on how disappointed my backer must be in me. Also mentioned that him and his 'boys' (God I wonder who constitutes THAT posse!!!) were in Vegas and that he spent hours 'looking for me.' All of this was especially amusing to me...(a) since I post on here or Facebook ALL of my results usually, rendering research virtually pointless (b) Finding me is like finding a gas station. Again...I post daily where I am playing. (c) anyone who considers ANY poker player...whether they are 21 or 51 a LOSER because they have a backer...obviously has ZERO grasp of how poker works, of the variance involved. Sure...the guy who clips a $1m score doesn't need a backer anymore...as long as he avoids managing his bankroll like a moron. But until I am that guy...I am eternally grateful for having a poker backer.

It just cracks me up that every time this fucktard opens his mouth, he just keeps sounding more stupid every time. It is good for one thing though. It makes him a lot easier to just laugh at and not get upset over.

Still watching 'Inception' and still ridiculously confused. I think its time to just give up on this movie.

Spent about three hours last night perusing Ebay and several other online sites...trying (to no avail) to find a replica of the Missing Raising Monkey. I really want to find a replacement...and not just some run of the mill Monkey...but T-H-E actual Monkey. I've never seen another one like it in 8 years...and just have a feeling it was a one-of-a-kind.

So I am told by a few guys that I have GOT to get on BoDog and play...that its super, super soft. Um...well, okay...thought about it...and was about to try and get money on there, then today I read that they will not seek to renew their gaming license at the end of this year. That they will honor the ban on US internet poker. So forget about that one. This is such bullshit. Okay...its been what? 4 months now? How long is it going to take for the US Government to get this shit ironed out? Ive never seen more hypocritical horseshit than I have from the past two administrations.

Yesterday, I did decide to try playing online for the first time since May. So I logged onto FeltStars...which doubles as Lock Poker. I bought into a $5/18pp SNG...because that was the only thing I could find that was about to fill up. And I won that shit. For $45. Hip Hip Hooray. After that game...I was sleepy, and logged off and took a nap. Lately, sleepy is how I have been feeling about 18 hours out of 24 a day. That's kind of freaking me out, too.

Happy Birthday to my friend Allie Prescott...who like me, hasn't moved since we got back from Vegas, though I know its his plan to get in his car...and drive to Florida, where he plans to live and become a full-time cash game player down there. That is definitely the right place to do it.

Okay...see ya later!

MONKEY

Home From Vegas...Winehouse 86'd...Icehouse anyone?

2011-07-23T17:54:00.000-05:00

So, I finally managed to pull myself off the bed after being home for three days...or was it two? Who's counting. Went to return my overdue RedBox movies...then get a new mouse to replace my jumpity, sketched out current clicker...and find a new battery for the garage door opener. Yeah, got home and the garage door wouldn't open! Hmmm...wassup!??? Nothing. Just a dead battery.

So I walk in the house, bust out the mouse, load it with batteries, fire up the computer...and voila! I see the news. Amy Winehouse is dead. No! No way! I don't believe it. Sure! And men really walked on the moon. Christopher Columbus really discovered America. I call bullshit. No way in hell that wonderful health nut could be dead. Mistaken identity? British media sensationalism? I mean, we all know that Ruppert and his cast of miscreants are under fire for journalistic malfeasance (is that too many big words for you clowns in one sentence? Raise your hand if the answer is ABSOLUTELY!) this month...so is it possible that this is just a smoke screen to escape all the scrutiny of tapping phones?

I'm sorry, but until I see an actual photo of the pop princess laying in the morgue, I will not be able to accept that she has passed on to another place. Let's do a little photographic timeline of the musical goddess. Shall we?

Not bad, right? Pretty eyes. Long, flowing black hair. Obviously picked up the fun bags at a very inexpensive plastic surgeons sample sale, and that's too bad, and not sure who Blake is, or how he warrants a tatto'd 'pocket' above her left mammary...but hey, whatever.


Oh boy. What happened? Someone appears to be hiding from the sun, visiting the Tattoo Parlour (a LOT!) and missing several meals. The style of dress is also starting to leave a little to be desired. Not going to be finding this on too many COSMO covers anytime soon, are we?


Oh, for the love of Nancy Kerrigan! Is it me? Or does she appear to be crying out "Whhhyyyyyy!!!???" I think we are all asking the same question. What happened to those fake titties? Someone drain them? Like a lake in Africa...they just dried up! Yeah...that was one slippery slope indeed!

And in one final farewell to Amy...we check out her final appearance on stage, where she was booed off of it, in Belgrade, where...if you can't impress the locals, you are REALLY doing something wrong!

I would say it's sad, but lets be real...I think the amazing thing is that she made it THIS long. I personally made her my number draft pick in the annual 'Dead Pool' four years in a row, twice giving up my #2 pick to move up in order to take her. I knew the potential was there, but she just seemed to be a bust every year. She has finally redeemed herself. And for anyone about to leave a message calling me 'insensitive???' Please save it! Her own parents predicted she wouldn't make 30 and pretty much washed their hands of her years ago. So don't think they are all huddled around the living room right now shedding tears.

Lets move on. About four months ago I was 'friended' by a guy named Anthony Howe on Facebook. Since then, I have been entered into a group called by 'Poker's Elite Secret Society' by him. It seems like every day there are 10-15 messages coming my way from this cult. Some, I have heard of, others...nope. He has a blog...called Poker Talk Matters. I am absolutely flummoxed by this guy. I look up his stats on Cardplayer. Zilch. Yet he qualifies himself as a professional poker player who has been grinding for over ten years now. His wife even serves up a testimonial that he has 'paid his poker dues.' I asked where those dues are collected, how much they are, and if I can pay them myself to close the book on that irritating task?

Don't get me wrong. I am not here to bash Anthony. He has never said a bad word to or about me. I just don't get it. I couldn't be more confused. I've read his blog. Lets imagine you build spaceships for a living. And some guy asked you to join his group called "Shoot For the Stars...let me Show You How!" so you could learn about becoming an aeronautical engineer. You with me? And on the second entry...he talked about the times required to turn the rubberband to achieve liftoff? How would you react to that? Poker's Elite Secret Society? Is there a handshake? A password? Are there events where we show up in masks and the women get naked and eat food off of each other?

Say what you will about him and his....enterprise? A lot of people seem to be falling into his web. And he appears to branching out into other areas...including podcasts. It makes me wonder if I am missing the boat on how to make a buck in poker. Clearly, just showing up and taking a swing at multi-million dollar prize pools isn't paying off, or...from what I can see, necessary. This guy might just be a mad genius.

The yard here at Monkey Central looks like a jungle. Why? Well, it didn't rain for about 37 days in a row when I was here. Now it's rained like 15 days in a row. About the same number of days my Dad has been out of the Big House. Also the same number of days since my Seattle Mariners won a baseball game. I hate to suggest that my father return to prison so the M's can win another baseball game...but what the hell? From .500 and 1.5 games out of first to 12 games out!!?? And this yard? $30 to call a band of illegal aliens to do it? Or watch me walk out into the 95 degree 80% humidity and stroke out??? Squirrel keeps hinting about the yard needing cut. "I thought you might like something to do!"

Yeah. I would. However, death wasn't on my agenda. Wondering if she secretly took out a life insurance policy on me while I was in Vegas. Anyone over the age of 40 tried mowing the lawn in South Mississippi in the dead of summer? After a summer of sitting in air conditioned casinos in Vegas? I feel a heart attack coming on just thinking about it.

The NFL owners are pulling one of the biggest 'quickies' I've ever seen. Anyone really following this? Or just reading the scrolling headlines like all the owners hope you are?


The only thing missing from this picture is a big crown. Or maybe devil horns.

Well, Roger Goodell has likely pulled one of the greatest PR gaffes of all time. Knowing the season is on the front doorstep, and that no one can afford a work stoppage, they have pulled one of the most incredible moves of all time. Him and the owners went in...worked on a deal they could all be happy with...then went ahead and voted on it. Oh...all except for the Raiders (because, well..they are the Raiders) agreed to it...so POW! It's a deal! Well, once, of course, the players sign off on it! As if that was a forgone conclusion.

Now, depending upon your point of view...this is either awesome, or super fucked up. Do I think the players make too much money? No. I don't. I think basketball players make too much. And hockey players. And thats based on the amount of money generated by the gate and TV...which in both, in no way constitutes the salaries being paid. But football? It's a very short career. They are, without a doubt...the best at what they do. The stadiums are always close to sold out. The networks always get the highest ratings. And these guy literally destroy their bodies, in the pursuit of greatness and short-lived riches.

They are obviously not very smart either. For starters, their leader, DeMaurice Smith...has done very little to further their cause. But to let the owners just parade around like they have solved the issues, agreed to a deal, and are just waiting on the players to agree themselves? Without saying a word? Its like...the owners just made DeMaurice their bitch. See...if the players say FORGET IT...then they fall into the trap laid by the owners...where they look like the good guys, who tried to get a deal done....and the players are just greedy and spoiled and uncooperative. Nearly every issue on the table has either been ignored or put off in this new 'deal' orchestrated by the owners. All it is, is an attempt to get the players to camp, and get the turnstiles turning by September...which of course, I am all in favor of. And most of us are too, I'm guessing.

But as a guy who pulls for the underdog? I hate to see what is happening, because the players are literally getting hosed by a bunch of rich assholes with better lawyers, better PR firms behind them, and who can use other sneaky, dirty tactics to force them back. I just wonder...with their 'deadline' for acceptance looming, is DeMaurice going to finally step up and do what the players hired him to do? Or is he going to 'puss out' and let the owners win the battle without a single shot being fired? Should be interesting.

Casey Anthony is out of jail and living God Knows Where. I wonder how long it took her to have sex. And was it with a guy? Maybe a threesome? Monkey's need to know these things.

Yes, my dogs were happy to see me when I got home. In fact, they haven't left my side since I walked in the door. Several people have been asking me if I am coming up to Goldstrike to play in the WPO up there...which started yesterday, and drew well for their first event. It is awfully tempting. But what isn't is looking at the faces of my dogs and thinking about leaving them again. Or packing...after just UNPACKING. Or driving, after having JUST driven 1900+ miles to get home. Or leaving Squirrel, who I am almost positive would freak out if I even mentioned it. All the errands that piled up while I was gone...they need to be addressed. Plus there is a $50k Guaranteed tourney in Pensacola next Saturday. Now...it has a $700 buy in...so why do they even try to entice us with the 50k G banner? How stupid.

One thing that has me chomping at the bit however? Once you sit with the best players in the world for 7 weeks...and yes that includes all the crazy, maniacal Euros...then go to a place like Tunica...winning a tourney up there seems like child's play. Or does it? Yeah! Its kind of a double edged sword. Those cotton-farming, catfishin rednecks still insist that getting it in with 3-8 suited or 59 off suit is a good play...so when your AA goes down in flames to Farmer Fred and his two pair and you are looking for a mosquito to bite you and give you Mississippi Malaria...don't come crying to me about it. It happens up there. A lot!


Hold still you son of a bitch! What were you thinking anyway? Playing AA in Tunica!!! I got something for you, assclown!!!!

So anyone wanting to know about the journey home? It was rather uneventful. Kai got tired in a place outside of Albuquerque...we stopped so he could sleep in the parking lot. At a casino called Route 66. I played 2-6 spread limit with a bunch of whackos...one who, despite having a woman's name was the most masculine fella at the table, and bragged that her father was a one-time WSOP champion. He obviously forgot to pass down his amazing skills to her...him? I won $19. Meanwhile, Kyle was busy playing Bonus Hold Em..in for $400...out for $1550. Nice session. He bought dinner later on...at a place called, ahem...'Restaurant' in a place called Santa Rosa, NM.

Outside of this place...there were bird nests...everywhere. It was very Alfred Hitchock'ish. But the liver and onions that Kai and I both had was wonderful.

Dammit it Mom....feed us BITCH! And so she would....swoopin in with a mouthful of regurgitated worms...to their waiting mouths. Yes...the brush with nature was, um...lovely.

'Scuse me you two...but seriously? Once you barely fit in the nest still, don't you think maybe that it's time to get your ass out of the nest? Come on...beat it!

Who hasn't been known to get their kicks on Route 66 at least once or twice in their life? Me and Allie Prescott managed to experience ours. Wheeeeee!!!!

Proof that the American Dream is still alive and well...no idea where this was. But my insides ache for that scooter.

While filling up for gas....in....who knows...we see this amazing ensemble. The woman is easily 55+. But you wouldn't know it by the sex appeal she is throwing off!

After an authentic Mexican food experience in Hobbs, NM...the boys stand outside in the 104 degree 'dry' heat to...well, I don't know...look very 'Reservoir Dogs'ish' IMO.

About half way through Texas...I get to look at this in my mirror for about 15 minutes.

Followed by getting to look at THIS! I now hate Texas....bad.

Yeah...we pretty much just did a lot of driving, stopping so Allie and his bird-like bladder could relieve itself, and filling up with gas and food occasionally. Thankfully Kai and his legendary Jetta had no 'flair ups' in the maintenance department. Allie and Kyle were locked up in 'song games' then graduated to 'Hanging With Friends' the latest word game from Zynga. So of course...we got to hear about all the words that aren't really words that Kyle kept stumping Allie with. Allie also stole my big metal spoon. I will be sending him a bill for that. Once we got to Dallas, they veered left for Memphis...and we veered right for Biloxi.

But before that took place...we both got pulled over by two of Texas' finest. Pfft. Finest. Yeah..if being a big, old, fat, ignorant redneck is fine...they were hella-fine! Thing about Texas...if you have ever driven through it...you realize that until you get to Dallas...there really isn't ANYTHING worth noting, unless you're big into oil wells and tumbleweeds. So...with a speed limit of 75 the last time I checked...with it dipping to 65 and or 70 at times...I felt like 75 was a good speed to set the cruise control on.

So when we were cruising along, and I see a cop off of the exit and passing a gas station, I made no attempt to slow down, figuring I was fine. Nope. Cop lights go on...and he came after me. Tells me I was going 83. Hell no, wrong. I gotchu on radar. Oh... from 80 yards away, going in the opposite direction? Yeeeep. The 'ol "my word against your word, I WIN" form of justice. Then tells me the speed limit is 60. What? Yeah...its night time, and you are in a city zone. WTF? Another fucking Texas Highway loophole. When you are in the jurisdiction of a city/town/shithole...they lower the speed limit from 65 to 60...and thats at NIGHT. In the daytime it goes 75 to 70. Lets see...lets just confuse the fuck out of everyone...then drill 'em with a ticket. And since they live outa state...they will never show up to fight it!

So this piece of shit gives me a ticket for going 83 in a 60. Despite the fact I was going 75. Again...my word against his. And his radar! What a racket! How much is my ticket? $208! I will be writing a letter to that judge. And quite possible never paying that ticket. Fuck you Texas!

So what happens 30 miles later? While texting to Kai that (guess what!!???) Allie and Kyle just got pulled over, in almost the same identical fashion...as they were now 25 miles ahead of us...I hit an interstate alligator! Holy!!!! !@*(#Y@*(. What the hell was that??? And right on my tail...I see Kai's car swerve and swear I can hear an Ed Helms-like (Dr. Faggot in The Hangover) squeal coming from the inside of Kai's car! I had, it turns out...put the finishing kill shot on an 18-wheeler's dying tire. To my shock, I incurred no damage to my 4Runner. Incredible. We met up with Allie and Kyle at Whattaburger on exit 'who cares' to hear their sordid tale of Kyle ending up in the back of a police car...due to not having any proof of insurance, and looking like (take your pick) a drug dealer, serial killer, terrorist, arsonist....eventually, the cop was unable to find any good reason to hold him after the interrogation ended...and he was released, with a brand new speeding ticket.

I hate Texas. I mean...how broke is that state that this is what they resort to? Its midnight...on a friggin Wednesday...there are NO CARS on the interstate at all...and they are cracking down on people going what? 5-10 mph over the limit? Give me a break. We pay almost $4 a gallon for gas...we should be allowed to go as fast as we want, within reason! I hope the Longhorns, the Aggies, the Red Raiders, the Mustangs, and the Horned Frogs all go winless in football this season...and that the whole state gets hit by a category 15 hurricane!!!! Which for you farmers with cattle wouldn't be a bad thing...I know you need the rain. I saw all your skinny cows that looked more like deer than cows!

Oh for the love of God...Squirrel is back in here hounding me again about the lawn. I am now almost positive she has taken out a life insurance policy on me. I am going to a place where I am almost assured of NOT stroking out...the movie theater...to see 'Captain America!' I enjoy watching Nazi's get killed.

Thanks for stopping by....

Monkey

The Road Trip Begins.....

2011-07-19T05:33:00.000-05:00

This MIGHT be a fun little adventure! As Kai got that magic phone call at 4pm saying his car was finally fixed....the wheels were set in motion to finally leave this desert outpost....returning my traumatized nose to normalcy, in the good 'ol humid south!

We had a plan. Spend time at the pool. Eat a good meal (Kaizen...for fourth time this summer-Sushi)...run a few errands...take about a 3-4 hour nap...then wake up, pack...and hit it.

Slight snag. I get a phone call from Allie Prescott at 1am. Him and Kyle Bowker are interested in joining our little caravan. Really? Well...cool. Get packed and get your asses over here!

That has occurred. They are interested in a little cross-country adventure, sightseeing as it were...so this might just possibly end up being a very fun trip home. I have gotten over my bitterness at all the bad, late beats this summer. My wife is home from Orange Beach...all ready for my return...as are the dogs.

Pretty sure things are cool with my backer. The fall circuit schedules have been released. Honestly I can't see anything in August I'm even slightly interested in playing. Might just stick in Biloxi, play some 2/5 at I.P. like its my job...and get after it in the fall. I am fired up for the Borgata tourney in September. Always great to see all my good buddies from the Northeast up there.

I want to thank the fine folks at Riviera Casino and Hotel for the wonderful treatment we got there. I will miss my super comfortable bed and the great maids. I would also like to salute the staffs at Venetian and Rio for doing a KICKASS job all summer running those gigantic events. I really can't think of too many things they did wrong. The crowds were huge...and the mistakes were kept to a minimum. Sure I would like to be leaving Sin City with a few bricks (10k'ers) in my car...but fate just did NOT smile on me this summer. But at least I got back into the WSOP...and feel pretty confident that I represented myself well. So that is a good thing.

I will likely be making a few entries on the way...probably with a lot of pictures...so look forward to that! Thats it. We are in the parking lot of Wal-Greens...just got my FIVE movies to watch on the way....lets do it!!!!

MONKEY

Leaving Las Vegas....

2011-07-17T21:59:00.001-05:00

Here it is. The long-anticipated entry...my final entry for the Summer for 2011. A lot of very interesting events have occurred in the past few days...some good, some bad, most that I will never, ever forget. For one reason or another. I will warn you...this entry is going to be very long. But their are going to be lots of exciting photos and videos. I try to give you people what you want. What you need. I have now had someone other than Garrett Jones tell me I should start video blogging. Someone with much better looks and much prettier hair. I will take this under advisement as we move forward. Or, maybe after I get home and get on a daily gym regiment and make myself...mmmm what I would deem as photographically desirable, or for that matter...tolerable even.

Today is Sunday. I got us a late checkout...so we could join many of our friends at Aria last night...play some tourneys, some cash games, drink cocktails...sleep in...avoid the 105 degree, bright sun, traffic-laden highways and get our journey under way under the cover of darkness, making my ability to watch movies from RedBox much easier to view on my stereo in the 4Runner. The plan was for Kai to follow me on the 1786 mile journey in his recently repaired, legendary VW Jetta. For obvious reasons...mainly in the event of another breakdown and him getting stranded somewhere in the middle of West Texas, where he would become buzzard food.

Small glitch. And this glitch comes as the Squirrel's level of angst at me still BEING IN Vegas grows by the minute. On the way back from Aria late last night (he stayed longer than I did) his car....SURPRISE!!!....broke down AGAIN! So I have no idea what that means for us now. I'm kind of stuck in a position of 'I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't'...not wanting to piss off the Squirrel anymore than I already have...and not wanting to desert my good friend. Bad Spot. Kind of like having pocket 8's in the BB with 9 big blinds left and a raiser in early position followed by a re-raise on the button. What would YOU do?

I wonder what Kenny "Motherfu***ng" Powers would do? What does this have to do with anything? Absolutely NOTHING...except I think it might be one of the funniest videos I have watched in awhile. So enjoy! And no...this is NOT an endorsement for K-Swiss Tubes.

In other news...we were all emotionally impacted by the disaster that struck Japan this spring...well, I think most of us were. If you weren't then you just aren't human. So when I saw the inspirational run made by the Japanese women to reach the World Cup final against our US Women who made an equally amazing run to reach the title game...I kind of felt like there would be no bad outcome to this game. As much as I am proud to be an American...and as much as I take pride in our country in everything we compete in, I have to say that watching the Japanese ladies make their incredible comeback to beat the heavily favored United States and win their first World Cup was awesome. And what it has to mean to their country? I think its one of those amazing things that happen in sports that have the ability to transcend a whole nation and bring them together. Congratulations to Japan...and continued success in your efforts to recover from the Earthquake/Tsunami/Nuclear disaster.

Kai Landry is a bit (understatement) of an insane maniac. At some point he decided to introduce a new character into his arsenal of intimidating table props. Mr. Tomato. Yep..a real, gigantic, juicy tomato. This thing joined him at the Caeser's Palace Main Event...which he barely got into after busting early on Day 3 in the WSOP Main Event, or maybe it was Day 2...now I forget. Yeah it was Day 2. He got in and took his 50k in starting chips to 140k. Then came back to the room, after I picked him up after bagging up 120k of my own chips in the Main Event...and presented this stupid tomato with its own place to sleep.

Kai looking upon Mr. Tomato with glee as the Ambien kicks in and sleep awaits him

Nighty Night Kai-ster...you and Mr. Tomato have a lovely night sleep!

Yeah...well, the tomato continued its journey the next day...and Kai again dominated the field at Caeser's. But don't let Kai convince you that him and his poker skills had anything to do with it. Nope...it was all about the damn Tomato. So after he bagged up something like 2.5 million and was in the Top 5 in chips with a shot at $225k...the tomato was afforded the same sleep accommodations.

The next day...he would make the money...get deeper and deeper...as the tomato began to show some signs of wear and tear, now requiring a bandage to cover an ugly blemish. Eventually Kai would run out of luck...losing a few of those 'much needed' coin flips that always arise late in tourneys...and he ended up 25th or something, for around $9k...which certainly wasn't what he woke up hoping to bring back to the room at Riviera...but nonetheless, another great run for Kai.

So...like a good buddy/rail sweater...he headed over to Rio to check on my status. Where I managed to get to 150k early...the day kind of turned to shit when I got moved from what WAS an excellent table draw, into the Amazon Room and a table full of absolute maniacs. Fearless, internet-savvy maniacs. And they weren't bad players. In fact most of them were excellent. It required a whole new strategy...the most challenging scenario in poker. Study the table, pin point each players' strengths and weaknesses, their tendencies...everything. The iPad went in the bag. This was the big time. Crunch time, times twelve. Everything I did that day was tantamount to my immediate future. No mistakes could be made.

The first four orbits I got absolutely NOTHING to play...which was kind of good because it afforded me the chance to do a lot of sizing up of my table, as well as develop a nice, tight table image. What was going on around me was mind-boggling. UTG raise...middle position re-raise...cutoff smooth call...to the big blind, who would invariably re-raise HUGE...to the original raiser...who would tank forever....then put in ANOTHER huge raise....while the other two would tank then fold. Back to the guy in the big blind...who would once again go in the tank...jeezuz.....then RAISE AGAIN! Back to the guy UTG...who would drain another 3 or 4 minutes off the clock....then shove all in! To which the guy in the BB snap folded!

This was going on constantly. As was the tanking. We had hands that were taking 12-15 minutes on a regular basis. It was making me insane. And while that was going on...I'm looking at Q-4, 6-2, 9-3....total shit. So even if I wanted to make a move to take down a pot, it was impossible. At my previous table, I was getting drilled with the deck...though I lost 10k to a 7-9 shover with AA when he made two pair. Then get QQ on the next hand and lose to a short stack player with AA himself. Lose with QQ again to AA a short while later. Win with AK about 4 times. It was a fun table, fun players with lots of personality, zero tension, everyone acting on their hands in a reasonable time. I hated it when our table broke, despite taking some nasty beats. I still came to the new table with around 100k.

But losing chips to dead card fever is a bitch...and it eventually gnaws at your soul...as you go from 100k to 80k...then 70k...then 50k...then the onset of panic begins to rear its ugly head. You fight it off, because the structure is so good. Hope for just one situation where you can get a raise and a re-raise before you act...then look down at AA or KK...and work your way into a double up...then just sit around, get to the end of Day 3...bag your chips...then get a new table the next day, sweat out 180 players...make the money, then go from there.

So once I got down to 48k...and desperately needed to win a hand...that scenario occurs. At 600/1200 the player UTG raises to 2800. Another player calls...and I look down at KK. Finally! Hmmm...I'm in the SB. Flat call and play for a huge pot? But run the risk of letting them hit a small set? Or a possible ace? Or raise big and take down a pot of around 10k? At a time when I really needed to turn the tide back into my favor? Of course, you always wish you would have done it differently when your mission has ended in failure and you look back on it. Now I wish I had just called and checked any flop. But I re-raised to 6500. And given my super-tight image, both players quickly folded, and while I was happy to finally win a pot, I felt a sense of disappointment too.

There would be a couple more hands....AQ and 10-10...where I would raise...get called by this Euro who was incredibly tough to put on a hand. I got very bad flops and had to fold to the guy. I was so wrapped up in NOT making a critical mistake that it might have affected my ability to just let it fly. Or maybe I was doing the right things but just not catching any breaks.

I would go card dead after dinner break. About that time Kai showed up with Mr. Tomato, and knowing I was floundering...presented me with the Tomato, promising me an immediate turn around!

When things were looking bleak late on Day 3...Kai brought the over-used, often-abused Savior Tomato to my table in the Amazon Room to resurrect my dwindling chip stack.

So I welcomed the tomato to the table. Alongside my crystal Silverback Gorilla, who has replaced the Missing Raising Monkey...another side chapter in this summer of ups and downs. We were getting closer and closer to the end of the night...and I was continuing to get NOTHING to play. Meanwhile, my table was turning into damnation alley...with mountains of chips on either side of me. I was in Seat 5...with my stack that was dwindling with every hand. 400 antes with 1200/2400 blinds...7200 a round. Going from 40k...to 30k...to 20k....shit!!!! I think the chipleader in the tourney was now at around 1.2 million, and at my table alone...there were at least 6 players who had more than 500k. I would bet money that there was NO table in the whole tourney that had as many chips on it as our table. Which was just adding to my anxiety level.

Then...with 10 minutes left in the night...they cleared all the spectators from the Amazon room. I was down to 19k now. Do I limp into Day 4 with what will amount to about 5 or 6 big blinds? Or do I try like hell to get a double up and at least have a chance better than a prayer?

UTG...fold, next guy...fold...another fold....fold, fold...to me in the cutoff...and I look down at K10d. El Diablo. Jeezuz. I would have much rather seen K9. Even stealing the blinds here would be huge. I let 'er rip. ALL IN! Button folds. Small Blind folds. Big blind was still busy building a new west wing to his huge stack...and literally asked the dealer 'how much'...did not even look at his cards and just threw four orange (5k) chips out like it was a tip for the shoe-shine boy. Didn't even look! He turns over Q7. Cool. I'm ahead of both cards. Excellent chance to double up and get outa Day 3 with a decent chance of cashing. Forget it. He flops a Q...and it holds. And my WSOP experience was over. I just sat there, feeling so empty. Nobody even acknowledged me. It was like...Hmmmph, okay, whatever, picked off another one. See ya!

That is the worst feeling in the world. 28 hours of poker...and it just ends. With no money. No fame, no glory. Just more reasons to freak out about life. Then I left the Amazon Room...and got out to the hall where my friends were waiting, thinking I had survived. I told them the sad news. Got my looks of sympathy...and walked aimlessly down that long hallway that leads to the parking lot.

Then it was decided that we were going to head to O'Sheas...the place we go when everything has bottomed out, which it had. My summer was essentially over. A summer of deep runs, close calls, and a few min cashes. But in the end...an unacceptable deficit. A dwindling bankroll...a diminishing life roll, and a wife who's doubts about this 'career' continue to fester.

Before we got to O'Shea's however...Kai thought it would make me feel better to drive to a remote parking lot and give the tomato a proper burial. So...we did that...and I turned Mr. Tomato into Mr. Salsa....

Then it was off to O'Sheas...with Kai and Weronika Starr and her friend Kelly Bragg, both wives of fighter pilots who also like to play poker...and make fun of people. On the way into IP to valet my car...I completely missed this little stupid black sign...and when I heard the crunching of metal...I slammed on my brakes and inquired....

"Oh my God...what in the hell was that!!!???"

Kai: (after opening the car door) "Um...you might not want to look at this!"

Great. I got out...went around to the side of my 4Runner...and a large chunk of panel above the rear wheel had been ripped from the side of the car. Tried to put it back on. No dice. Unreal. My car now looks like that of a welfare recipient who shops at Dollar General. Great! I picked up the piece of side panel and put it in the back seat. Another thing I need to deal with when I get home. At least I had the good judgment not to duct tape it back on.

On top of that, my BOSE headphones developed a short in them sometime in the middle of Day 3...so bad that trying to listen to them is just annoying. So that's another phone call I need to make.

And...though I'm getting a little ahead of the story...on my way BACK to the Riviera from O'Sheas later? Due to all the damn road construction on Las Vegas Blvd, I decide to cut a right on Sands and take the back way to our hotel. After sitting in traffic, and getting onto a street with no traffic, isn't it always kind of a natural reaction to accelerate to celebrate having escaped that cluster fuck? Well, it is for me...and as soon as I reached 62mph...there, in the shadows...appeared, like magic, a motorcycle cop. Who couldn't wait to pull me over. And yes...I was presented a speeding ticket. In Vegas! The one town I always thought impossible to get a speeding ticket in. FML! The one shred of good news was that I won a little money at the cash game at O'Sheas. Very thin silver lining, however. Since the rest of my day couldn't have been any worse!

We do always manage to find fun at O'Shea's though. Here Kai is sitting out on the sidewalk emulating a homeless person panhandling from strangers/tourists. It was hard not to break out howling. Watch some of the people's faces that are walking by. Classic Kai. And if you listen closely, Kai is uttering the phrase..."pocket Jacks....pocket jacks."


Kai out on the street seeking an autograph from Barney for his little girls...and possibly negotiating for other 'favors!'

You see all kinds of crazy shit whenever you go to O'Shea's which is kind of why I like to go there after a 'bad day' at the poker tables. It always has a way of taking my mind off the bad shit that has happened that day.

You KNOW you are at O'Shea's when, after busting the Main Event, being taken hostage by your friends to escape your miserable mood...you peer over to find these princesses holding up the wall in anticipation of...??? Yes...that is a Hooters shirt!

Cute! Not that tattoos are for me or anything...and that's fine...but if you ARE going to have a tattoo, do you really think you need to shave the hair ONLY around the tattoo? Leaving the rest of your caveman-like arms covered in hair? Nice look dude!

The next day I woke up...and went to the pool. It was rather pleasant. Then I decided I would go play the nightly at Venetian. I would get chips early. I would lose them. I would get them back. Then I would lose AK to JJ...and had only 1000 left, with the blinds at 600/1200. I put on a miraculous comeback...get back up to 32k...and we are down to only 18 players...paying 13. Wow...I might just pull this shit off, I thought. Forget it. This guy I know from the south...who was chatting me up at my earlier table..."you don't remember me? We played a SNG together in New Orleans one time." Oh....sure! How could I ever, possibly forget that!??? Jeezuz. Well, he was playing a lot...I mean...a LOT of shitty hands...and getting lucky a lot. And consequently, had an ass load of chips. So when he raised to 9k in early position and I looked down at AKd on the button, all in for 29k seemed like the right play.

He doesn't even THINK about it. He snap calls with Q9o. Hmm...of course. Rag flop. Rag turn. Hey hey...about to go to about 70k and make a deep run, maybe bank a nice $3500 score before leaving Dodge? Forget it...dealer puts a Q on the river. I don't even react. Just got up and left. It's happened so many damned times this summer, I'm almost immune to the pain associated with getting gutted on the river. Just out. Again. Deep. What else is new?

Imagine that your table breaks...and you go to your new table, and you look down at THIS? Fortunately this was not my seat. But I just kept staring over, perplexed...and wondering how I would have reacted if that were me drawing that seat. I am not trying to belittle anyone with a skin condition. By all means. However, I think if you HAVE a skin condition...and know that some people might feel uncomfortable with having to come in contact with one of your body parts...that you should feel a certain sense of responsibility to conceal this from other people.

My nightmare of a table change...dude, seriously? You can't wear pants? Just seems to me like there should be a law against this. *!@#(&*!(

Am I wrong? If so...please tell me. I would like to think I am pretty sensitive to people with 'conditions' as long as they decide NOT to make their issue my issue. I mean, if I had a gigantic boil on my neck...I would probably wear turtle-necks everywhere I went.

The next day was Saturday. Kai and I had kind of decided we would leave on Sunday (today) so I was going to play something. Originally I thought about playing the Saturday $340 Venetian tourney...which they have every week, even after the Deepstacks events conclude. But then I thought about how I hadn't been to Aria all summer after practically living there last summer...when I was locked out from playing at the Rio and Venetian. They were all very nice over there, and I liked the casino and the poker room a lot. So after spending a couple hours at the pool I decided to go play the 1pm tourney at Aria.

After about 3 minutes of play I realized I was amongst some of the worst poker players on the planet. 5 and 6x raises were standard. Jeezuz. I would manage to get a double up fairly early on...with KK against QQ...and had the luxury of sitting back and finding spots. One such challenge arose when I picked up KK under the gun. Knowing with absolute certainty that one of these idiots would raise if I limped...I called for 400 and buried my snout in my iPad. Then I hear the dealer....

"Its on you to act sir." Yes! That meant there had been a raise downriver. I peek down at the mutants and see that the button had raised to 1200 and the BB had shoved all in for 7800 (I had 12000 in my stack)...and I just called. The other guy folded. Super Shove shows A3o. Ugh...here we go again. Dealer didn't even tease me...just put an ace right on the flop. Awesome! And then it was just downhill from there. Don't even remember what punched me out...but I lost.

Went inside, got on a list to play 1/3...then ran into Frank Kassela, who was playing 200/400 mix game with a few notables like Tuan Le, who had JUST been knocked out of the main, and a guy they all call Crazy Mike...who I encountered at Venetian a couple summers ago, when he just walked up to a 1/2 game and decides to bet 100 blind on every hand...daring people to call him. Mostly delivering bad beats on people, and talking about how much money he had. I will never forget how much I wanted to take him outside and teach him a few lessons about how to act like a regular human being. An absolute motherfuc***er. So he hadn't changed much. He was berating this Asian gal who was dealing to them...and just wouldn't let up. I felt terrible for her. And wished I could yank him out of his chair and kick his ass. Of course, that isn't/wasn't an option...but you can dream. What a douche. They finally called my name and I was off to play cash.

Lost $300 in about 15 minutes when this Asian kid...who was on fire...was hitting every thing he needed on the river. Rebuy! Ran that up to about $500 and just hovered there for a long time. Then decided to play the 7pm tourney. Decent turnout of almost 100 players. Decent structure. Got off to a good start again. Then lost a huge coinflip with AK vs QQ...got short, then got busted.

Proceeded to play cash game until about 4am...had a lot of good buddies from the summer stop in, including Omar. It was a pretty fun night...and we had a real friendly table for the most part...and I booked a decent profit, which I was glad I got up and left with. Plus I was tired, and ready to get a good night of sleep, get packed, and get on the road. Now all that is in limbo, as Kai has since come back to the room while writing this...informed me that he extended the room for two more days, is getting his car towed (again) to a repair shop...to be fixed. I don't know what to do. Leave...and run the risk of him breaking down again...and also piss off the wife by not coming home yet...or stay, be what I would like to think is a good friend...and see that he makes it back to Biloxi in one piece. I mean, I miss being at home...miss her and my dogs...but I'm just going to go home and sit around all day and night with nothing to do really.

There is some exciting news coming out of the WSOP Main Event. A handful of Gulf Coasters are inside of the final 90...with a very good friend of ours being one of them. I tagged Claudia Crawford with the nickname 'Claw' a few years ago...and we all shared a house here in Vegas together...she dates Gabe Costner, who was sitting on the chiplead in last year's Main Event before a catastrophic three-hand nightmare put him out I think 23rd. Claudia and I were pretty good friends, and then she started hanging out with Squirrel and now the two of them are like best friends. It's kind of a bittersweet feeling being OUT of the Main...and watching Squirrel post all the messages for Claudia...while I am happy as hell for 'Claw' I am obviously a bit envious that it isn't me.

There are a handful of good players from the Gulf still in it. Ryan Lenaghan is a really great cash game player...and doesn't play a lot of tourneys. For some of the same reasons Claudia doesn't. They just like the high stakes cash game for the potential to make money. Tourneys really are such a high-variance crapshoot. I might actually have to start taking a look at playing more cash game when I return to Biloxi. Fred Berger...who was at the top after Day 1...continues to quietly remain in the running, as does Ben Mintz...another veteran of the circuit. Sam Barnhardt...who somehow amazingly won the 1m Freeroll that kicked off this long summer, has been on fire the last three days and is also among the chipleaders. I do not know HOW that guy does it! I have been watching him make some of the most mind-boggling plays over the past couple years, but somehow, it works for him. And I have to say...there isn't a nicer guy on the poker circuit, so its really hard not to root for Sam to do well. And then you have Jacob Bazeley, a pretty laid back guy who runs around with the whole crew of Mintz, Dolan, Tyler Smith and those guys. SIX players from our region with a solid chance of making the November Nine.

When people ask me..."why do you do this Monkey? When will you just give up?" Well, its really easy for me to answer that when I see guys making it this deep who I play with day in and day out and usually compete with on a very even keel. I don't think there is necessarily a "I think I'm just as good or better" than that guy/girl mentality that persists at all. I just think you get to a point where your ability to succeed is set in stone; with the obvious opportunity to always fine tune it and get better, where you can enter into a big tourney and have every bit as much of a chance to win as the people you play with all the time. I also happen to think we have a LOT of excellent players from the Gulf Coast...as is evidenced by this year and last year's WSOP results. Cashing already but missing out on the big money were David Diaz...who already won a bracelet this year...and TK Miles, who was among the chipleaders most of the tourney...and who I consider a PHENOMENAL tourney player...not that I am ready to give him $25k to 'fine tune' my game!!! (again thanks for the generous offer TK!)


"The Claw" and Squirrel...out to dinner on Cheryl's visit to Vegas this summer...before Claudia had a gazillion chips with 90 left in the WSOP Main Event...think she'll still remember us!!??

But I have to be most excited for 'The Claw'...as she has had a very up and down..sometimes tumultuous two years...and who is very near and dear to my wife and I. I know that she is very grounded, and that a huge win wouldn't go to her head. At least I don't THINK it would. Her and Gabe are engaged again...and entertaining thoughts of buying a house...just like Squirrel and I have been trying to do. And I think that all of us that do this for a living are just striving for some damn stability in our lives.

I love this interview they did with her. She is obviously SO excited...so much so that she forgets to pause to breathe in between sentences. And of course she comes off as such a little redneck...blurting out the 'ol Roll Tide to kick off the interview. I'm sure the German interviewer was like..."Huh? WTF is she talking about? And what is UP with her funny accent!!???" But then she got into some hand conversations...and situational stuff, and the true poker smarts in her became evident. Claudia gets it. She is a solid player. I know she can do this. And I'm sick of all these women rattling off about 'how neat it would be if a woman made the November Nine.' Fuck that! How bout...'wouldn't it be cool if a woman won that shit!???'

Just last year...when things were going like shit for her...and she was waiting tables to make ends meet, I was staking HER...in some tourneys at the IP...trying to help her make a score and turn things around. Jeezuz...look at her now! Kind of sobering, too.

Something really magical happened yesterday. And it probably needs to be saved for an upcoming blog entry (pfft, or not!). I was on Team Bustout, as most of you know. I really like the owners. And thought we had a solid relationship. I was one of only two players who attended the Team Bustout dinner at the Mirage a couple weeks ago.

Well, on Day Three, I 'checked in' at the WSOP on Facebook...and 'tagged' some 'friends' who I knew were also competing that day. Most of them liked it. Some even replied with 'good luck' and stuff like that. Not Matt Stout. Instead, he messages me that he is deleting me because it is bothersome to him to have people replying to the 'Checked In' status. I simply reply to him that I was sorry to cause him such an inconvenience, and wished "you good luck in the tourney, Mr. Personality!"

To which...he decides to launch a tirade of abusive emails on me. Calling me a shitty player, admitting that he openly lobbied against me being allowed on Team Bustout. Takes it one step further and calls me (and my wife) a couple of stupid racist, redneck pieces of shit (I'm going to deduce that because we live in the South, that must naturally mean we are rednecks AND racists)...and tells me he hopes I die in a fuc**g fire. Real classy guy. And all I ever did was reply to him that he needs to develop some people skills, find some maturity, maybe quit smoking an ounce of dope a day...and stop being so negative about everything. Even complimented him on his abilities as a poker player.

So what does he do? Well, obviously, he goes to the owner of Bustout and demands that I be dropped from the team. Why? Because he doesn't like me? So yesterday, sitting at Aria...I open my email on my iPad and see one from my Bustout boss, telling me that due to a few factors, most of them pertaining to my inability to get along with Matt Stout, that they are ending their relationship with me. And just like that...after logging on to the Bustout site, I see my profile is GONE...as well as my blog entries.

I reply that its pretty clear what is going on. That if I had been the one sitting on 1m chips and still in the Main Event...and if Stout had been the one going out with 10 minutes left in Day 3 and not cashing...that I seriously doubt I would be getting this email. That I understand how BS politics work. The funny thing is...I have been reppin the hell out of Bustout for months, and I have not seen a red cent from them. Not one. And when they showed up with a whole slew of new gear two weeks ago...for the Team Members...it was that same owner who was in the halls of Rio just handing it out to anyone who wanted something, so that when a couple of us team members went to pick something up...there was NOTHING to be had. At all. Awesome. So what I am losing out on...I'm not exactly sure of. I was basically giving them exposure to over 7000+ potential customers a month...plus wearing their gear in a lot of events, and in exchange I get dropped because Matt "The Bakehead with Attitude" Stout doesn't like me and cried to the principal about me.

I won't bad mouth the guys from Bustout Poker at all. I actually really like them. And I like and believe in their product. I had a chance to sign a deal with Ksino at about the same time as I met Jeff from Bustout...and I liked his approach a lot more, and the product as well. And 97% of the guys on the team are great, great guys...and good poker players. But as is the case in life...it always seems to be that one bad apple that can spoil the whole bunch. If you are someone who thinks of Matt Stout as a friend...so be it. And I'm sure he will talk a whole lot of shit about me...but he has never even sat down and had a conversation with me. Man to man. Not once! But he is very quick to pass out a lot of shitty information about me. Which to me, is one of life's worst personal characteristics.

So what magical thing happened yesterday? Well...its funny sometimes how fate, and maybe Karma work. And every once in awhile, there is proof that God has a sense of humor. So I am sitting in Aria playing cash game...following the Live Reporting on the WSOP on PokerNews....when I see it. And after reading it...the biggest smile crossed my face...maybe the biggest smile since I walked over and saw the pile of chips in front of Kai that signaled my entry into the Main Event....

"Crawford sends Stout to the rail"

No effing way! Yes! Yes effing way! Stout raised with 10-10. Claw called with 8-8. She flopped a set. An ace also came on the flop. Some betting took place on the turn I think. Then she bets the river I think. He shoves all in, she snap calls, and Mr. Grumpy Stoner goes bye bye. I sent Claw a congratulatory thank you text message.

So...yeah, I guess I'm no longer a member of Team Bustout. Oh well. Not to sound conceited, but as far as I'm concerned, it's their loss, not mine. I wish them well in the future, sincerely. As for Matt Stout? I hope the guy can learn a little class. Two weeks ago...when a man was in the Ladies Event...and had gotten close to the Final Table..he posted on Facebook that he "fuc**ng hated the guy" and hoped he died some violent death. I have to ask...is that the guy you want representing your company??? The 40+ messages that people left below that comment caused him to have to back pedal a little bit. Sometimes...I think people just let you know through their words what kind of a person they are. I rest my case.

I have no idea where my next tourney will be played. I have to get home, get settled...and figure things out. Reconcile my bottom line with my backer, and discuss our strategy going forward. I am disappointed with the overall results of the summer. But on the bright side...it was nice to be back in the Rio...and Caesers, and Venetian (though that was already resolved a while ago) and get to play on the World's largest stage all summer...and have one opportunity after another to make a life-altering score. The new friendships I made, the new players I met...the interactions with dealers and floor people...it was all very positive. I stayed out of 'hot water' at all the casinos...and hopefully laid a good foundation for this seasons upcoming circuit events. I tried to win with grace and lose with class in all my hands this summer. I kept the drinking to a very bare minimum...only in a couple nightly tourneys, and a handful of late night sit n gos. And never to excess.

Poker is a tough life. Its an exciting way to make a great living...or a nerve-wracking way to slowly go broke. It takes an incredible amount of patience, understanding, and self discipline. It is a learning process for sure. Being able to accept the highs and lows...not to get too high on yourself when you're running good, and not getting too down on yourself when you're running bad. We all battle this every day. We expect our spouses or significant others to 'understand' and 'deal with it' when things aren't going well, sometimes forgetting what we are putting them through. Or not making it a priority. That's important. If you have a partner who tolerates this lifestyle, you are already ahead of most. What is the payoff? It's being one of those people sitting over there across I-415...in the Amazon room...who are already guaranteed of making around $70k...with a shot at $8.7m. Yeah...that's the payoff! That is why we play this game. Because when I win 1m...I'm done for 6 months. If I win 2m...I'm done for a year. If I win the Main Event? I am done forever. Mark my words!

OMG. When I started this entry...the players were on dinner break. I just went back over there to check things out...and they went from 90 all the way down to 79 that fast. And guess who has been eliminated? :( Yup, "The Claw" is out. As is Fred Berger. And the other two gals are near the bottom in chips. Claudia took home $76k...which is her biggest score ever..and will really do a lot of good for her and Gabe...but I know she is going to be really disappointed. But she had an awesome run and should be proud! Just like everyone told me I should be for my deep run...only she made $76,000 and I made zilch! A moral victory? Okay...fine!

Take care everyone...talk to you when I talk to you....maybe a bit of a hiatus coming for me. We'll see.

MONKEY

Just a little more time to think....

2011-07-16T15:34:00.000-05:00

For those of you who are ON my Facebook, you already know the outcome of my nearly epic WSOP Main Event run. For those NOT on my Facebook, I will tell you that I was knocked out with 12 minutes remaining in Day Three. I fell about 200 short of the money. I am still running all the thoughts and emotions of this summer through my head...and what my next 'move' is going to be. I'm sure all of you poker players know exactly, or at least...within reason, where I am at mentally right now. And I have a lot to say, a lot of people to thank, a handful to trash...and quite a few random thoughts that may or may not relate to poker.

I am going to spend today at a place where I practically lived last summer, but have yet to visit this summer....ARIA. They have a nice little tourney at 1pm with a little buy in that attracts a crowd of about 100. I am going to go and try to actually enjoy playing poker today. Then tomorrow, I will wake up, write one long blog, pack up my car...and drive home. And when I get home...I will put all the pieces back together and start all over again. While this is going on, I will be checking in on the handful of people I call friends, as they continue to play in this year's Main Event...wishing great things for them.

Talk to you soon...sorry to keep you in the lurch!

MONKEY

On to Day Three!!!!

2011-07-13T15:04:00.000-05:00

I regret to inform you guys that there will be no pictures today. I know, I know...a lot of you beasts are very 'picture oriented' and I have tried to be a lot better about plugging in lots of photos lately. But (a) I just don't have any today and (b) its a day off and I really want to just update you guys real quick then hit the pool for about three hours and try to reclaim my Vegas tan!

What we have here is a 'shot in the dark' right Duke? [Dwyte Pilgrim]

I'm coming off of 8 hrs of sleep and feeling awesome. Yesterday was as mentally draining as any tourney I've played in the last year.

Before I go any further I want to thank Matt Stroud and Scott Arents...for their incredible efforts to dig deeper into my table draw and provide me with valuable information on the players at my table on both Day 2 and coming up on Day 3. I'm pretty sure not many other players have the benefit of blog readers and/or Facebook friends providing them this information on the fly...and I really want to say a big THANK YOU to them!!!

I went into Day 2 with a goal of getting my stack from 46k to 100k. I eclipsed that...by 20k...bagging 120k...which more importantly, is 75 bb's when we go back. A lot of people get wrapped up in the amount of chips they have...looking at the leaderboard and feeling like they have to catch the guy with 500k. Screw that. The structure in the Main Event is the best on the planet...and the main reason I always felt like I could cash this tourney easier than any other tourney on Earth. Even Vanessa Rousso, who bagged only 41k yesterday, still has a great chance to cash...because she is good enough to realize that she has ZERO reason to panic. At 800/1600 when we go back, she has plenty of time (and skill) to crawl back in.

Sure...all the guys with 400-500k will be the talk of the WSOP media and other players. That's just fine. The only time I want them talking about me is when we are down to 3 tables. I would hate to have 500k right now and have everyone penciling me in for the final table. That kind of pressure sucks. Nope...just wanna linger in the top 20 or 30% in chips...get in the money...and do work from there.

Yesterday...wow. What a day. The table I started at was so soft it was hard to believe...and filled with shortstacks. On the second hand of the day...a guy raised early...light, and with another caller, I decided to complete in the BB with 4d6d. The miracle flop came 4-4-2. By the time the turn brought a 10 and the river an ace (the money card) I had won a $30k pot of the guy with...I suspect AQ or something. Never saw his hand. Then I lose 7k right back to this nice old man on my left...me A10, him AJ on an ace board.

That first table was filled with really nice guys...we had a lot of fun banter also. Everyone was playing quickly...it was a polar opposite of my 2nd table.

Charles Norris...another nice guy from N.C. stuck his last 10k all in at cutoff...a bit of an unnecessary over shove at that point by him..with 97o. I look down at two aces on the button. He wins. With two 9's. Ugh.

On the very next hand...a guy with $22k min raises UTG...and I look down this time at QQ. Oh no. Those damn queens. I reraise him. He thinks about it...and just calls. To his credit, he played this hand perfect. The flop came Jack high...and he checked to me. Of course I was going to bet that flop...and I did...about half his stack...so that when he went all in, I had no choice but to call. ACES. Ouch. And I was getting that all-to-familiar sinking feeling as my chip stack begin to dwindle...falling now to 35k. Oh boy.

But I would recover...picking up a few smaller pots here and there. Getting aces again and having them hold. Getting QQ again and losing...to AA again. It was a real rollercoaster ride, all day really.

Near the end of the second level I got moved to a new table in the Amazon room, taking the place of Cliff "JohnnyBax" Josephy who had just busted from my new seat assignment. This table was a nightmare. Lots of Euros. Lots of past winners. Very, very good players. But also devoid of ANY personality whatsoever. And lots of hoodies, and big, gigantic glasses. But the worst thing about this table was the number of 10-15 minute hands that were being played.

The whole session after dinner break was so aggravating I wanted to claw my face off. I mean...everrrrrrry hand was taking an eternity. And it was always he same 4 guys. I was getting suggestions from people on my Facebook to start fucking with them...with some of the ideas being to start going into Tourette's Syndrome mode...spouting off indecipherable rants...or busting out into singing show tunes, or themes from sitcoms and/or gameshows. All great ideas. But the truth of the matter was...I was sitting there...blinding down from 54k all the way to 38k...and slowly getting very tired, from the abundance of shitty cards, to the painstakingly slow play of the table.

I was sitting there cursing Tom Dwan for creating these mutants. With their stupid posturing...and their robotic lifting of the chips...and its slowwwwwwww delivery onto the felt. I think I committed mental homicide about 37 times last night. I will be doing mental life in prison now.

Then it happened. Finally! My patience was rewarded. A couple of raises to 2700...and I wake up with KK in the SB. I re-raise it to 5700..and due to my incredible tightness I assume, both players snap-folded. Thats fine...I needed the 6500 back in my stack.

Then after that I get QQ. Win that one too. Shortly after that...and all of these served up by long-time circuit dealer James...I get JJ. I re-raise the raiser...which I didn't do with QQ...why? Because I run like SHIT with queens, duh! He calls me. I flop a set of jacks! I check. He checks. I bet the turn. He calls. I bet the river...he tanks...like they all did at this table...and finally folds. Dammit. Still a good pot. And so boom...I was back up to 59k and feeling a lot more optimistic.

Now arriving on table Orange 307...dude from another table...with 175k. He liked to play a LOT of hands. I get KK again...in early position. I raise to 2300. This guy re-raises me to 5700. Hmmm. I feel pretty confident from his body language that he does NOT have AA. I'm feeling either AK or QQ. Usually I would just flat the raise there...and try to fade the ace on the flop. But I didn't want to surrender position to him....so I put in a fourth raise...to 12k. Which he called. Just called...again, making AA seem unlikely.

The flop came out 2-3-6...damn good flop for me. And with 31k left in my stack and close to 40k in the pot...I wasn't dicking around.

'ALL IN'

He tanked....for about 10 minutes...very aggravating...either he had QQ like I thought...or he was doing the biggest Hollywood slowroll ever with AA. In which case...I was probably going to walk over there...put a plastic bag over his big head that was being massaged by one of the girls from the time he sat down (and was grossing me out...as he sat there with this smug look on his face as she rubbed his scalp) and suffocate the life out of him.

He finally decides to call...and I ask if he has QQ? Yep. Queens. I show him my KK...table commends my hand...and somehow, miraculously...unlike every other two-outing fool this summer...he fails to hit a queen on the turn or river. And I had my biggest pot of the summer.

Now that I had chips...I had the freedom to get into a few hands I had been avoiding all day, so I was smooth calling raises with hands like 99, 77, KQ...missing on all of them...but the beauty of my table was that no one was doing a lot of over-raising. at 500/1000 the standard raise was 2300 or so. At 600/1200...it was not much more...2800 was pretty common. That is a sign of good players...unafraid of playing post-flop. So when this solid player from England raised light UTG...I was comfortable flatting on the button with 44. He was playing only 22k behind.

The flop came 4-4-2. Holy shit! He checked. I checked. The turn was a 10. He checked again. So did I. The river brought the money card...the A. He bet out 7500. I min-raised him to 15k. He shoved all in...and I didn't slow roll him like so many other pricks this summer, I just turned over my hand. He took it in very classy manner, and I really did feel bad for the guy. I don't like busting people from the Main Event...because I know that awful feeling of leaving the table with your dreams shattered. I would rather just keep doubling up through big stacks.

I got up to around 130k and decided to just shut it down...only playing top ten hands...which I didn't get any of. I probably could have raised with A3c, A5s and K10c...but I didn't want to run the risk of losing a big pot before the end of the night and messing with my head. I made it a goal to get to 100k by the end of Day 2...and I made it to 120k...and couldn't have left feeling any better. And getting away from that table? THANK GOD! I love my Day 3 table draw, I think. It looks real similar to the one I started with yesterday.

So there ya go. An update without pictures...or anything very funny. Kai busted out right after the first break...he had a rough day...getting his AA cracked by A7d...by what he called 'a fucking Pakistani Rug Salesman' from hell! Then getting it in with 99 vs. AK and losing a flip. But he made it over to Caeser's to play their 2nd day of their Main Event...which drew a huge field. He made it out of Day 1 with almost triple what he started with...and I picked him up right after bagging up my chips. He was over his WSOP bust out by then. We were invited to a party at the Artisan...which is a really cool place off of Sahara, by the WSOP staff...dealers, floor people and the massage girls. And I was excited to go too. But we got to the room and realized how tired we both were...and when Westside Bobby texted me that I wasn't really missing anything great, we decided to call it a night and get some sleep instead.

So that's it. Jason Young just texted me...and has reserved a cabana at the RIO pool for today. So I'm going to go pick him up at Palm's Place...and head over to Rio and hopefully have a day of fun. Back tomorrow at noon for Day 3. Will we get into the money? Tough to say...as there are still about 1800 players remaining with 693 getting paid.

Okay....I'm outa here! Thanks to everyone for your continued support!!!

MONKEY

2011-07-12T18:58:00.001-05:00

End of Level 7. A shade under 47k. Got moved to a new, tough table. Patience grasshopper!

What a Crazy Ride!!! Next Stop: Day 2B

2011-07-12T06:17:00.002-05:00

Hi! Its 3am. And I can't sleep. Why? Well...these things happen when you are laying in bed fantasizing about all the things you might do with $8.7m!

You get the picture!!!

But to adequately describe how it is I have come about laying in my bed on July 12th, 2010 even being in position to cash in the Main Event of the World Series of Poker for the first time since 2008...would take forever to explain. Unless you've been reading my blog from the start, or are married to me.

This has been a rough summer. Yes...there have been some cashes...even a nightly win at Venetian, and a 2nd place in the same event. Lots of min-cashes though, and most of them coming courtesy of a fatal river 'kill shot.' Almost always in position to win...only to get sniped from the guy 13 floors up with masterful aim. And holding something in his hand like Q2.

Yes...QUEEN DEUCE...this post almost became a sad tale about a goombah wrecking my summer plans with that horrendous piece of shit hand.

We will go back a few days. Fresh off those two IRRITATING near-bubble disasters in the $1k Mega at noon followed by the heart-breaking river 10 followed by the 'El Diablo' debacle in the 8pm $2k Mega...I spent the following day sleeping in and moping in my room. When I finally came up with an effective game plan...it came out feeling like this:

Go to Rio. Play SNG's all night. Try to win some. Then come back the next day and give the $1k ONE more shot on Saturday. Part of that plan worked. Kai was busy playing the $2k Mega...which he would eventually WIN...Yay Kai! I...played a SNG. I lost. In the same glorious fashion I had been losing all summer. Make a flush, lose to bigger flush...half my stack...POOF! Lose with straight...to a rivered full house. Rest of stack GONZO! Tried to play another SNG. Oooops...not enough dealers/tables. Huh? Dammit. So I decide to make another stupid decision...to go play the nightly tournament.

Big mistake. Came in with a lot fewer chips than everyone...not that it mattered, the hand would have played out the same way anyway, I'm sure...because nobody this summer seems to be blessed with the ability to fold any hand that contains an ace in it. So when my QQ raise was re-raised by the dipshit in the BB holding A7....it was a certainty that when I shoved the remainder of my chips in that he would hit an ace. Yup. Peace out.

Oh! Great...SNG-Land has found some more carnies to operate the rides....we're back in business! Played two...lost two. Started flashing back to Star Wars...where dude was in that nasty critter filled sewage tank...and the walls started closing in on him.

Fortunately...I managed to find a titanium rod to jam the walls...and won my next SNG. Phew! Needed that for shizzle.

I lost my final SNG...as Kai was dropping by to deliver me the golden news of his victory. I was very happy for him. We left together. Pretty sure we ate one of the best meals of the summer, at All American Cafe at Rio. A long walk to get there was rewarded by a great meal...served to us by a waiter who was (a) very enthusiastic (b) a bit like a car salesman and (c) received a 40% tip from Kai and I. Then it was an Ambien and 8 hours of sleep.

I woke up feeling pretty good. One critical error from the night before. Did NOT register for the $1k Mega before we left. Whooops. Upon waking, Kai and I struck a deal. This was to be my last shot at the WSOP Main Event...at least on my backer's dime. My next ploy was going to be trying to hustle my way in by selling percentage shares...or mooching a stake from one of my bigshot poker buddies. That was not the route I was hoping to have to resort to. I could name a laundry list of players who have NO problem doing that...but I won't. And will go to great lengths to avoid adding my name to that list. But hell! This is the damn WSOP Main Event we are talking about...and after the long, arduous struggle I have endured to get BACK INTO this event...coupled with my summer-long drought...this was the chance to redeem myself in SO MANY ways. I just had to get in...somehow.

So Kai...who now owns the title of MONKEY SAVIOR...struck up a deal with me. He would play the $1k Mega with me. If we both won...great! He would pocket $10,200. Like who can't use THAT? If I won...and he lost...no big deal, but he would get a 10% save on my Main Event. If we both lost? Don't think you need an abacus to figure that one out. But if HE won and I lost? I would get the seat...and he would get half of my action. A pretty kickass gesture by a pretty kickass friend. Something that seems to run in pretty short supply when you are running bad.

So we arrive to a 'line from hell' at registration. Shit! So stupid! How did I not think to register the night before! Carwash has texted me to tell me the start is being delayed to 1:15...not that its going to be much help...since it is currently 1:05 and there are easily 120 people ahead of us. Dammit dammit dammit!!! And with only 6k in chips...30 min levels...and blinds that start at 25/50...missing two or three levels is a VERY bad idea.

Kai once again thinks of a great idea. Heading over to Pavilion and seeing if that line is any shorter. It is. And after a text message telling me he is 25 away from the cage...and I count easily 100 in my line ahead of me...I beeline it over to his line. 10 minutes later...we are in. Sweet!

Get to my table...Kai is the next table over. The players start to assemble. Within 7 minutes, hated my table. Seated next to me...asshole internet twerp who wants to 'lay' on the table...both elbows on the rail...jeezus. Ask him three times...politely, to please get on his side of the table. He refuses. Insists that he is fine. I finally call floor...floor man tells him he MUST move over about four inches...and that if he gets called back for the same reason, he is getting a penalty. Thank you!

About that time...the guy in the 2 seat...who I had already started to obsess over how ugly he was...decides to chime in on the matter. Huh? WTF is it to you? Why are you yapping about it?

"Cuz man...that's my boy!!!" I see. Then they begin furiously text messaging each other back and forth like a couple of 9th graders. Am I becoming a grumpy old man? Or are all these little 21-27 year old assholes just driving me insane? It's one of the two...I'm certain of it.

Mr Ugly. Stands about 6'6. Has the same, almost exact body of that fu**ing assclown who's picture I posted a while back...the dude who looks like a bowling pin. Yeah...real sexy. Wearing a damn Mariners hat (which just offended me to be reppin my team with his ugliness) with a straight bill...askew like his Bowling Pin Assclown look-a-like...and sitting atop his head, instead of pulled down like a normal person. He had this mouth...ugh...tiny tiny lips...and about as round as a golf ball..maybe smaller. And every time he would raise? He would pucker his mouth up...so he looked like the world's fattest goldfish. And lets not leave out his eyebrows.

You're driving down the highway...its late at night...and you begin to get mesmerized by the lines in the road that divide the lanes. Know those lines I'm talking about? The ones that almost lull you into a hypnotic state? Take two of those lines...color them black, and slap them on Bowling Pin Clownboy's forehead...cuz that's exactly what they looked like. All I wanted to do was take a bottle of really cheap champagne...shove it (forcibly) into his tiny little piehole...then get one of my favorite Seattle Mariner's player to step up to the plate and smack that bottle down his throat with a fantastically polished Louisville Slugger!

"Annnnnnnd heeeeee's outa hereeeeeee.....HOME RUN!!!!"

Now...were there even a tiny little shred of love in the universe for Senor Monkey....or a shred of karma going my way...it should have occurred at this table full of ingrates. But would it? HELL FUC***G NO!

I have literally played about FOUR hands...and have only raised ONCE...with 10-10...which had to be folded on an A-Q-7 board and the BB betting out. It folds around to me...and I look down at KK at cutoff. Sweet! Finally! A real hand! Now I just hope I get some action. Oh I do. The button calls (call station) and the big blind...who is the perfect candidate for a future episode of Chris Hansen's 'To Catch A Predator' decides to 'look me up' with the always powerful drawing hand...Q2h.

See it and WEEP! I did!!!!

What this joker was thinking...I have no idea. Yeah...great the flop came Q-high. Whatever. I raised to 550. Three calls. 1750 in the pot. He checks. I bet 1300. He doesn't even think. Snap call. Turn nothing. And oh yeah...I do have the K of spades as you can see. I wait...think I hear him say check. The dealer does too. Points to me. I go all in.

"Hey!!! I didn't act yet!!!!" Me and the dealer both raise our eyebrows. You didn't? We both thought he had. Whatever. Fine, I pull my bet back. Now he wants to know if my action is binding. Being an idiot...he obviously doesn't know that if he CHECKS...then yeah, it's binding. Which has me worried. Or that if he bets, I now have the option to fold. Which the dealer clarified for him. So what does he do? He puts me all in for 2900. Which immediately lets me know he didn't flop a flush...had he flopped a flush, or even a set, I'm almost positive he would have checked and let me kill myself. But he didn't, so my call was pretty simple. Then I see his hand, and before I can snicker to myself, and get excited about my double up to about 8400 chips...a see the red deuce hit the river...and almost throw up right there on the table. I just closed my eyes. Then took a photo. Then alerted Kai...who ambled over, took one look and gave me that..."oh my God, Monkey....what next??"

Kai later posted on his Facebook...."my friend Monkey is running so bad right now, I'm afraid if he was playing someone heads up right now he would finish third!" Pretty good one.

I walked over to the rail...and as I did so turned to see the smart ass in the 5-seat simulating his new-found joy at all the room he now had to Gossamer Condor himself all over the table...as well as the Bowling Pin yukking it up. At that moment I prayed for them both to have AA cracked, not on the bubble...because that would earn them a free entry in the next's years Main Event...but three and two from the money in the Main Event. That would give me happiness. That or they both get attacked by a vicious Shepherd with rabies that escaped from Animal Control.

Kai sent me a reassuring text promising me that he would bring it home. Okay Kai...sure, thanks, whatever. Good luck.

SIDE NOTE: I know that the poll over there has expired, and I see that everyone's chosen sporting event to attend if one had the choice would be the Super Bowl...with the final round of the Masters very close (which I thought a bit odd) followed by Game 7 of the World Series. Really surprised to see the low numbers for a Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals...or a BCS title game. Hmmm. I will work on getting a new poll up there since you all have been so good about participating in that new 'wrinkle' to my blog. :)

I know I know...this blog is now very long...and only going to get longer. The good news...is that I am finally starting to get sleepy.

I walked like a zombie to SNG-Land...where the carnies were handing out seat cards like stuffed animals to the guy lucky enough to knock over the 127lb weighted bowling pin with a softball. I grabbed a seat in a $275...and promptly went off and won the thing. I suppose I should have been happy. Not really. So I went to play another $275. And oh, whoops, won that one too. Whoa. Hmmm...starting to feel a bit better, and actually contemplating playing the $2k Mega at 8pm. Naw...better not. Play a 3rd SNG...and finish...dammit, third.

About this time I start wondering what is going on with Kai. He isn't answering my texts. Hmmm...did he bust and feel bad and sneak off somewhere to hid from me? Or was it possible that he was trying to avoid any kind of a jinx, so he just was avoiding me? My curiosity continued to grow...to I wandered over to where they were playing...and noticed that they were now 3 or 4 from the seat. Whoa. I saw Carwash...nice! Really wanted to see him get a seat...we had swapped 1% before the thing started. And I'm looking....looking....and then BOOM! I see that little shitbird...sitting flagpole upright in his seat as always, with his treacherously gay white glasses on his face...but I can't see his stack....

So I maneuver into a better vantage point...careful not to let him see me. And then...holy shit, I see what causes the biggest smile (I think) of the summer to spread across my face. Three huge stacks of 1000 unit chips...and a lot of other colors. Kai has a monster stack...and not even Gabe Costner could blow that. It's in the bag! I have my seat! Kai is God! Life is great!

I walk back to the final SNG that I have bought into. I really want to end the day on a good note, but wont be upset if I don't. So what happens? I destroy the table. I get heads up with this guy and have a 3.5 to 1 chiplead. The problem? TK Miles has happened by and decided to sit at the other end of the table. TK is constantly offering to provide me the 'final touches' of poker wisdom (for the low low cost of only $25k) that will make me the consummate poker pro. That I am 'oh so close' but just need to fine tune a few things...that he can make that happen. He also has historically gave me a lot of shit for chopping.

So what do I do? I decide to NOT offer any kind of a deal to this guy. What happens? You know what happens. This guy makes a huge comeback...wins two flips against me...and I am all in with J10 against his K8...which he managed to hit both of...and I left that table...with ZILCH! I was NOT happy with myself. But it wasn't enough to take the luster off a fantastic day...and the excitement of waking up the next morning with a date in the Main Event. Thanks to Kai Landry!

Another summer like this one and I'll be like these classy folks...packin it in...7 or more at a time in the 5-star Travel Lodge in the shadow of Circus Circus.

On the way to the Rio...we pass the TraveLodge...and snapped this picture, to remind ourselves what could lay ahead for us if we don't get our butts back into the winning circle. Seeing homeless people scattered all over the streets of Vegas is also pretty good motivation to play well and stay focused!

I arrive. On time and ready for Freddy. I size up my table. There is no one in the 10-seat and for a moment I start to think/hope that the kind folks at the WSOP have taken pity on our souls...and afforded us the privilege to play this $10,000 event nine-handed, like they should all be played. That hope would fade when David "The Dragon" Pham showed up after about an hour of play.

I pretty much loathed my table after about two hours. The dude pictured below was a trip. He had this scowl on his face nearly the whole time. After one hand...where I was ahead all the way to the river, and lost to an eventual flush...I muttered something to the tune of "incredible...ugh...sure would be nice to fade a draw once in awhile..." when he chimes in with "what you the problem is? It just is a game..."

What the hell are you babbling over there Belke? Shut the hell up! Shrek!

Arrrrrghhhhh....Grrrrrr........Raise Raise Raise!!!!!

Then something very peculiar happened on our first, maybe second...break. Shannon Elizabeth...who was seated at the table next to me, and who I later chatted with while waiting in valet later on...and was, I'm not sure. It was like she wanted to be nice, but then wavered and thought about turning into a guarded, privacy clamoring bitch...then settled on non-committal either way and somewhat cold. Anyway...we go on break, and this choad rushes over to her table...starts babbling, I see her crack a smile, take off her glasses and pose with him while the dealer takes a picture of them...with him smiling that kid who gets to go see Santa Claus at the mall for the first time. Kind of made it hard to take him seriously after watching that display.

It always cracks me up watching the WSOP newbies get all ga-ga over the poker pros and celebrities who show up to play every year. Out in valet it's really funny...because all of them are in valet...you see the weasels hanging out there, trying to get pictures and autographs. Its really quite pathetic. At least in my opinion. Oh boy. An autograph from Brad Garrett. Gee...whats that going for on eBay right now, I wonder?

Dragon...meet Monkey. Oh wait...you've MET Monkey...he was the one who busted you from the Main Event at the WPT $10k Beau Rivage a few years ago...sitting right next to you, too.

Pham showed up and immediately started in with the three-bet re-raising. Then I watched him as he stole not one, but two monster pots by shipping on the river, when I was 99.7% positive it was nothing but a stone cold bluff. But hey...credit to him that he was up against two donkeys. Him and I actually had some pretty good conversation during the day. He's a lot nicer, or was BEING a lot nicer...than the day he was on my left in the Beau Rivage Main Event a few years ago...the day I was trading verbal barbs with Captain Tom Franklin and TJ Cloutier...who were across the table seated next to each other and getting a good laugh out of preying on my big blind all day.

The first level for me went fine. I had about the 30k I started with. From that point until the end of Level 4...it was a complete nightmare! I must have raised at least 5 times...where I had either a raise and a re-raise, which I had to fold to...or someone just jam it all in and have to fold. And none of those times had me holding onto AA or KK. Oh...yeah, getting those hands would have sure been nice. One hand I was grateful to NEVER see yesterday, was the one that knocks me out of EVERY Main Event...and a lot of other various Main Events too...those damn QUEENS!

No, I was getting a lot of naked queens though. Q4 about 20 times. Q8 was popular. It felt like one big, gigantic set up...like I was going to get them both at any moment...and ram them right into aces. But fortunately, that scenario never transpired. The best pair I got in the first four levels was 10's...and they lost. I saw AK twice...and lost both times. The two biggest pots I won, I had to completely bluff, with air. So as you can imagine...I was skating on pretty thin mental ice.

World Series of Poker Main Event...and she calls clock on a player 'she felt' was taking too long to act on his hand? Instant Classic!!!

Yeah, once again...our table wasn't lacking for clowns who took way too long to act on their hand. You know how throughout the year, you will be at an event...and some guy is tanking forever? And invariably, some player will utter that famous line?

"Dude...what is this? The Main Event or what?"

Well...this was the Main Event....so, ugh...that line couldn't really ever be used. Which meant someone had to get creative. That someone? It would be the dealer. Yeap...can't say I've ever seen this happen other than that time in Reno last year when that newbie dealer decided I had taken long enough...3 from the Final Table (and money...nice turnout!) and called a clock on me...which only make me laugh hysterically! Well...this dealer...stole a page out of Jimmy the Simpleton's playbook...and decided enough was enough and tells this guy he now is on the clock. What the!!!!????

Another player calls the floor. It is explained to him that the dealer has decided to put the player on the clock. Floor asked the players if anyone had asked for the clock to be called. Everyone shrugs...shaking their heads....and that was that. Wow!

On dinner break...yea, I somehow made the dinner break...with a whopping 4500 remaining in my stack...and all the wind now stolen from my sails, I was invited to go to Buzios with Kai to join Men the Master, JJ Liu and his friend Greg (sorry, can't remember his last name...and Kai is asleep over there) who won a bracelet back when Chinese Poker was an event in the WSOP. Now he serves as a middle man for a backer who has about a 5 or 6 player stable, including those two we joined.

I've never been a big fan of Men's. But he had his two granddaughter's him...one 8 and the other 5...and they could not have been any cuter. I opened up to them, and by the end of dinner they were my best new buddies. They seemed to think it was pretty awesome that my name was 'Monkey!' Well, Men was so sweet to them...and you could tell that he was just a really sweet granddaddy...which I have to admit, scored major points with me. Those little girls just adored him...so say what you will about him...he clearly has some good sides to him.

Kai had a bone in ribeye, I had the Idaho Rainbow trout...and there was about a ten pound lobster floating around that I got to take a couple stabs at when the little girls did not agree with their first sampling of Ocean Gold...but loved my sweet potato fries....so a trade was consummated...with me coming out with the better deal, again...in my opinion! Though I'm sure those little cuties thought they got over on ME!

RAGIN pet peeve. Warm bread served with ice cold, rock hard butter pats.

I will never understand why...and its going on five years now...that the jokers who run these restaurants at Rio can't pull their heads out of their asses and properly staff their joints to handle the onslaught of business that is about to come crashing down on them on Thursday-Sunday between the hours of 7-8pm...but they just never do. So what you get is shit-ass service. And it's not the waiters fault. Which makes it real hard to get angry at them.

But our busgirl? Oh...now there was a little bitch. Not sure what she ate for breakfast...but it obviously was served with a side of 'Bitch Flakes.' As she was passing us out our ice water, I asked her for lemons. Nothing. I asked her again. Again...no response. Then as she came around to my other side, and I could look her directly in the face...I asked her one more time.

"Hi...its loud in here, and I'm not sure if you heard me (since you GAVE ME NO indication whatsoever that you did!!!) but I would like to get some lemons for my water please."

And she snaps at me: "Yeah! I heard you!!!!" Whoaaaaaaa!!!! Easy there Casey Anthony-in-training!!!! (too soon for that one?)

Our bread arrives. And I am presented with one of my biggest pet peeves in the restaurant industry. You are at a place with an average entree price of $25-$30...the bread is nice and warm...and yet, you are serving us those fucking foil wrapped butter pats, that are cold and hard as a rock and never possible to spread on anything...other than a Las Vegas sidewalk. It drives me crazy.

I would return to my table in the Amazon room...which I had been moved to a while back. At my new table...I had a guy who revealed a lot of tells by the way he would chew his gum. Aside from almost always thinking I knew where he was in the hand...watching all the muscles in his face, neck and head fluctuate while he was gnawing on his gum was giving me mental fits. That and he was chewing it with his mouth open...which is a big strike two. All he needed now was a straw or toothpick hanging from his lip, and to start riffling his chips, and I would be looking for a $55 hitman to take him out (because that is about all I could afford right now!).

I will cut to the chase. We played three levels after dinner. The first two were a nightmare. I was on the cusp of elimination. When level 5 started...I looked down at 2200 measly chips with the blinds at 200/400 with a 50 ante. I was running out of time. Patience was not appearing to be paying off.

Then I was dealt the Monkey Savior. In 6 years of tracking my favorite hand in elimination situations...I am an amazing 40 for 47 (after last night) with K9 when I move all in with it. And there it was. Good 'ol King Nine! Suited! I let the dealer know I was all in...and boom! I get called by the guy right next to me. He opened up AQ. Ooof! But it's K9...I wasn't the least bit worried about it. Or wasn't...until the flop brought an ace...along with a Q...oh boy. But I didn't get up out of my chair....because it was K9. Turn.....10!!! Giving me hope.......and....on the river........a JACK!!!!!! Yes!!!! I was back in it.

That started a heater like I haven't seen since...well? Since I was down to the skin of my teeth in the Beau Rivage Main Event last fall...that, coincidentally, Kai and I both made it down to the final 3 in. I picked up K10h...in good position...went all in. FOLDS! I picked up 66...in good position...ALL IN...FOLDS! Now I was picking up some momentum.

Then 'THE BIG ONE.' Guy raises to 1000. Guy on the button re-raises to 2200. And I look down at KK. Finally! A monster hand. I have 11k...and decide not to screw around...and shove all in. First guy folds. The other tanks...forever...and finally calls. With 99. He does not two-out me like everyone else this summer. He just loses. In fact, I turned a set. Up to over 20k!

Then the super-aggressive guy from Brazil raises my big blind again...to 1000.....gets another caller, and I decide to complete with 9c10h. The flop comes all clubs...with a K. Turns out the guy flopped a set of kings. Well, he played it like shit. And I kept picking up outs...and calling his puny bets...till the final club on the river...with me also have a double gutter straight draw...completed a live flush for me...which I checked, and he didn't even bet it, just turned over his set of kings...and said "Well Played" which...in his accent I couldn't determine if it was sarcasm or serious. Didn't care either. I knew a re-draw was on the horizon, that I would likely never see any of these clowns again...and was enjoying the shift in the mood of all the players as I continued to rack up chip after chip.

The final big pot...which resulted in me knocking out the guy who had at one time had over 80k...and who had caused me to fold numerous hands...when I had a hunch he was bluffing, but didn't want to be wrong...was the most satisfying of all.

I raised UTG with AJs. And from middle position this guy calls me with J8h. Nice hand sir...and by sir, I mean F-I-S-H....the big blind came along. The flop came jack high...with two hearts. Hmmm...bet it, or check-raise? Almost positive this guy will bet if I check to him. So I do. He leads out for 2200. The BB folds. I raise it to 7700. He immediately goes all in. Hmm...interesting.

My poker instincts instantaneously tell me he is on a flush draw. Set made no sense. I also am positive he doesn't have an over-pair. Would have obviously re-raised me. If I'm real lucky he has like KJ. I think all these scenarios out...count out my chips...realize that if I lose to this guy, I am going to be back to 4700 chips with 15 minutes left in Day 1...not exactly where I want to be coming back for Day 2. But I know I am ahead...and I make the call. Yup. Flush draw...come on dealer...fade it pal! He does! My heart skips a crazy beat...I watch all his chips come my way. The dealer leaves shortly after that...I thank him...to which he replies:

"Well, at least you didn't kiss my ear like you did that time in Tunica when I shipped you a huge pot!" and banged my knuckles as he moved on to his next table.

That put me up to 48k...and I became satisfied to just sit on my stack...and play nothing but tens or better for the last few hands. I was just sitting there feeling ecstatic! About the same time that I was on life support, Kai was getting the shit kicked out of him over in the Pavilion room. He texted me that he was down to 9k...and I was starting to fear we may both be walking out together at the end of the night feeling miserable.

Screw that! Kai went on a heater of his own...even better than mine, and bagged up around 60k. Awesome! The stage was set for a big night out!

The lucky boxer shorts from the Day 1 Super Grind Fest!!! Now bronzed and hanging on the wall in Room 43** at Riviera Hotel and Casino!!!

So with very little time left in the night...I started ordering drinks. Greyhounds and Red Snappers...managed to knock down three rounds before the plastic bags came out. Right before that, I get a text from my buddy Jeff Giraldi, who is in town from Atlanta. Jeff was a great friend of mine when I lived in Atlanta ten years ago. I made a trip to Biloxi with him one weekend to go play blackjack. That was the weekend I met Squirrel...she was our cocktail waitress. The rest, as they say...is history. So Jeff kind of holds a special place in our lives. Well a mutual buddy of ours from Atlanta...Troy Gibson, who also survived Day 1...but just barely...but remains optimistic after Kai and my big comeback, had reserved a table at Vanity (at the Hard Rock) and demanded we make it.

My Good buddy Jeff Giraldi from Atlanta...who is responsible for me meeting Squirrel.

So we sped off to the Riviera, changed into some club duds...and headed out. It was okay...we weren't there long...and they wanted to go to Drai's after hours club...but Kai and I had made a mutual decision that if we both made it out of Day 1...we would go visit all the little beasts at the Spearmint Rhino. Can't mess with fate. We had a date with destiny...and we brought it home. It was a good time. We really didn't spend much, or stay long...but it was nice to just sit and reflect on the day...and dream about possible things to come.

Five years ago...at the Bellagio, for the Super Bowl between by beloved Seahawks...and the hated STEALERS. That's right...it was stolen from us!

Oh how father time has taken a toll on this Monkey...ten years ago...when Jeff and I both bartended at the same club in Atlanta, Tangiers. Nice look I'm sporting there, eh? WTF?

We both woke up today (yesterday now!) at around 3pm...then spent a couple hours at the pool doing what you're supposed to do in Vegas on days off! Chillin! After that he went to deal with his nightmare of a car that he is still trying to rescue from the firing line...and I took a four hour nap. Which might be contributing partially to my inability to sleep right now. Yeah..its now almost 6am. I'm ridiculous. The things I do to please you folks! Just kidding! Its a pleasure to have so many of you providing me with your emotional support both here and on my Facebook!

There continues to be no news on the missing Raising Monkey...and yeah, I miss him. Look how handsome he was back when this picture was taken. No chipped ear, or eyebrow, or fractured foot...all golden and shiny. I miss that little guy. But the crystal monkey is taking over for now...and yesterday he did a great job. I will continue to rely on him to help me bring home a big cash in this event that has the whole world watching. I really like my table draw tomorrow...no big names, no crazy Euros or Asians...from what I can see...and a lot of stacks smaller than mine. Not that I have any intention to go in over-confident, or not be cautious. I know a lot of crazy shit can happen...always. But I feel good...I feel right...and I am ready to have a great day! Hope I have more good news to write about tonight!!!

Sorry I waited so long to let everyone know I made it into 'The Big One!'

Monkey

Monkey...before the weathering, and abuse...looking all stoic in front of my favorite hand, and Main Event savoir....KING NINE! I miss you Monkey...you're gone, but not forgotten!

Oh....The Pain....

2011-07-08T20:46:00.001-05:00

Yesterday...the mental destruction of Summer '11 reached it's apex. There is nothing worse...than knowing you are outplaying your table, over and over and over. Making the right calls, making the right laydowns...using patience to put yourself in position to grab an important victory. Then seeing it all end to a horrendous, gut-wrenching river...with a guy needing one or two lone cards in the deck...and getting it, to crush you. It's never easy to stomach. The pain just lingers...the desire to talk to people, to even be around people...vanishes. People invite you to a party. No thanks. Someone wants to share a drink with you. Pass. Another player wants to share with you the story about his untimely demise. You don't care. And don't expect anyone to care about YOURS...so you go into isolation, alone...to work through your own personal pain.


How many times in one summer can you be left with the felling of wanting to put on a blindfold, pop a smoke into your mouth, load up a handgun...and call it a day???

Yesterday I woke up in a great mood. Kai and I got ready...and made our way to the Rio with our sights set on locking up a seat into the Main Event...as the Day 1a players were kicking off the WSOP Main Event in the Amazon Room. ( Big UPS by the way to super nice guy Fred Berger who emerged from Day 1a as the overall chipleader!)

There were 736 players in the $1k Mega Satellite, with 70 winning a seat. I was hit with the deck early...getting KK three times...and getting double ups with it twice...once against QQ, the other against JJ shoving all in. I never had a small stack. I was cruising. Then as we got down to 80...and the blinds were gradually increasing...I got down to only 8-10 BB's and started realizing I would need to win a hand at some point to assure my chances of getting a seat.

Just moving into the seat on my right was a Euro...with a lot of chips, and you know what he started doing...raising every hand. He shoved all in on my BB three times...with me looking at crap every hand but getting increasingly frustrated. He had his chips all spread out, similar to a limit player, so he had to wrap his arms around them and look at his hand way out in front of them. In doing so, he was inadvertently showing me his cards. So...with 8 players to the seat...and me sitting on 45k with the blinds at 3k/6k...and knowing I was going to need to pick up a pot pretty soon or be faced with getting blinded way down. So when he flashed his A10 to me and moved all in, I fully expected to look at some shitty hand, breath a deep sigh of disgust...and fold.

But instead I looked at AJ. Whoa. He's drawing to three outs. How do I NOT call here? That would be the biggest wuss-out of all time. So yeah, I called. With a chance to get to over 90k...and be able to coast to my $10k Main Event seat. And what happens? Well, the picture is posted further down. Yeah..he flopped a ten...and it held. And I just sat there...staring at the board. Misery my closest companion.


Yet another late, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching three-outer at crunch time....

I walked out into the hallway...with Brian Smith in tow...a kid who plays my football pools, and my fantasy leagues...who had stopped by to meet me. Unfortunately for him...he caught me at one of those moments when you really don't want anything to do with ANYONE. Nice guy. And very understanding of the situation. But I just needed to go find a cave/hole to hide in, alone.

Then Kai calls. I had given him the keys to my car: to use my car to jump start his...having left his lights on and killed his battery. Not on his new car. Oh no. Kai drove that back to Biloxi, then flew back here. He has some goofy idea of rescuing his old, legendary piece of crap...fixing it up, and finding some person hungry for pain and suffering to sell it to. So upon busting...he calls to tell me he just broke down over by Circus Circus...that my car is in the parking lot...but that he has the keys. So now I can't even leave. Grrrrrr!

On top of it all...while needing a jump start...two guys he thought were his friends, passed him in the parking lot, claiming not to 'have time' to stop and help him out with a jump start. He was pretty pissed off about that...have to admit, I don't blame him.

My day got a little worse too, when I sit down and notice that the lens had fallen out of the prescription glasses I was wearing. What the.....no way! Sure enough, a screw had fallen out...causing the lens to pop out. Jeezuz. Spent 15 minutes looking for it..and finally did. Of course, no luck on the screw. So a trip to the mall to get those fixed is now on the schedule.

My buddy, 'Spur dog...missing his Daddy. Trust me...after every bad day there is nowhere I would rather be than in that bed snuggling with my little monkeys.

When you're having a day like this...all you can think about is the things that make you smile. Your wife. Your kids, if you have some...like Kai does. I know when he's having a shitty day he always thinks about his little girls. For me its my two sweet dogs. Who are always happy to see me, who miss me when I'm gone...and who, no matter how bad my day is going...always bring a smile to my face when I see them.

This summer was supposed to be about me making enough to sit back and relax at home....for at least a few months. Go nowhere. Play NOTHING. Replace Squirrel's engagement ring...that she lost in the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe get her the Lasix surgery she has been wanting for years. Get Jasper some new hips so he can enjoy playing ball in the twilight years of his life. Pay off my remaining credit debt. Take my wife on a vacation to somewhere we've never been before. Maybe get her into a new car. Hell...if I did good enough, maybe FINALLY get us out of our rental house in Biloxi. But all it's been is one close call after another...all summer. Mixed in with a couple nice hits...a nightly win here, a couple of big SNG's there...but with all the buy ins, with failed results...cancelling those out in the long run.

Which is why...when losing a shot at a WSOP Main Event seat...so close to the finish line...it's so demoralizing. Because I have NO DOUBT that if I get into that event...I have an excellent chance of cashing. And just cashing would be $22,500 or so...which...going home with would provide a big band-aid to a rough, frustrating summer.

Look at that face. Squirrel tells me she has been sleeping balled up in the closet underneath the racks where my shirts sit. I miss you too Mollie!!!

So...taking all this into account...I decided to 'man up' and buy into the 8pm Mega Satellite...that comes with a hefty $2080 price tag...but which sees 20% of the field lock up a seat. I got off to a frustrating start. One guy at the table was getting drilled by the deck. The whole table was getting flustered, and started making panic plays against the guy. Not me...I just sat there, patiently waiting for his 'good run' to come to an end, and for mine to start. And that is EXACTLY what finally happened.

I raise with 77. I get called by the BB...who held 10-10. The flop came 7-8-9. He check raised me all in...and somehow I faded the world...for my first double up. Another guy moved all in...the guy who had been running over the table smooth calls...and I look at QQ...raising the shit out of it...and making him fold. Small stack shover had 66. I hit a set. Then a short while later...this guy got his slow roll shoved right back in his face.

At 600/1200...he raises to 3200. I look down at AQs in the SB...notice that he has 8000 behind...and I raise to 6500. BB folds. And this guy starts to tank. Thinking....thinking....I'm just assuming he has a hand like AJ or KQ...or maybe 77...and is wondering if he should go with it...or fold and wait for a better hand. More time goes by. Finally...he goes all in.

Okay...well, I'm certainly not folding for another 1500. I might have likely overplayed AQ there...but it is what it is. He turns over AA. WHAT THE FUCK!?? What an asshole. And a dipshit. Slow rolling me with AA? Why? Was he thinking MAYBE I would fold for 1500 into a 16k pot? I snapped on him.

"Dude. Are you kidding me? Slow-rolling me with aces? Man...I really hope I punish you with a bad beat! Come on dealer!!!!"

I flop a queen. Yeah...come on, come on...then I turn a spade flush draw...oh yeah...come on....you can do it....and then...on the river....BOOM! A queen!!!! Awesome! Hilarious! I showed the most emotion after winning a hand as I had in a long time! I now had a monster stack.

The players are dropping like flies. Things are looking good. Then...at cutoff, I raise with KJ...and a shortstack tanks before going all in. Damn. Not enough to make me fold...so I call. He has AJ. Ugh. Anything but THAT. He wins. Then I go card dead for a long time.

Finally, with a raise and an all in, I'm in the BB and look down at QQ. Oh no...not those bitches again. Dammit. I have no choice but to call. First guy has A4. Next guy has 10-10. Okay...well, pretty good shape. The all in small stack flops two pair (A4). But he's really short...and I'm more concerned about the big stack's side pot possibilities. Then the dealer puts a damn 10 on the river. I just sank in my chair, didn't say a word. But I was left with only 2500 chips. I was in bad shape.

But I miraculously ran that back up to 19,000...and was now back to dreaming about having my seat locked up by the end of the night...about spending all day Friday at the pool relaxing, in preparation for playing Day 1c on Saturday.

Then we are 5 away from the seat. The guy at cutoff goes all in for 22,500. I have around 19k...and with the blinds at 3k/6k...I need badly to win, to get a double up. I look down at AJh. I know I'm ahead of this guy...I was. I call. He turns over...no! El Diablo! Oh no...God no!!!! And sure enough...the first card I see coming off the deck is a damn king. OMG. Not again! Yup...and it holds...and once again, I was out...OUT! Kicked off the doorstep of the WSOP Main Event. Dammit. And the legend of El Diablo (K10 to you newbie readers) adds another chapter to the growing tale.

After walking aimlessly around the Rio for about 30 minutes...I decide to go play a SNG. Joined a $275 with a $100 last longer. Won the first three hands I play. Then...and this hand was a real joy...I raise with AA UTG and get four callers. I flop a set of aces. The guido in the 2-seat had called my raise with J7s...and had flopped A-2-7 with two spades. I think you all know how this one is going to end, right? Yeah...he hits a spade. And I'm out. Shaking my head in disgust. Sitting at that table, in Seat 1...was a total goofball...a guy wearing yellow shaded glasses, with one of those stupid hats, like the one the guy wore on the 'Honeymooners' way back when. This toolbag was flying around the Rio in a rented scooter/rascal/hove-a-round. Apparently they are renting these things out for $138 a week. So what do you have now? A bunch of lazy jagoffs riding around on these things. And as I have bitched about in the past...they often times ride them way too fast. This douche almost runs me over. When I ask him to please slow down...he got all defensive.

What a jerk!

Want the glamor of being a massage therapist? The money is decent...but the client base is unbeatable!

If you are going to resort to using these things...at least look a bit like the guy up above. But this guy, who I had the displeasure of observing being massaged? Not even HE was using one of those things. He was walking around. Our country is getting so lazy...its nuts!

Kai and I were coming home from a horrendous day of poker...had just stopped off for some unhealthy junk food...and see this schlub sitting on a rock...in about 105 degree heat, looking...well, lets just say observing HIM made us both feel a lot better about ourselves!

At first glance I thought there was a chance this guy was holding my missing Monkey. I can't decide whether I think Monkey has been stolen, lost or kidnapped. I do know I had him in the pocket of my hoodie, which is admittedly shallow, and could have slipped out. But with a $500 reward on the safe return of Monkey...I would think someone would have found it and been eager to return him to me. Not having Monkey, I feel like a part of me is missing. It sucks. This dude above...not holding Monkey. He escaped possible injury.


Depending on what kind of mood you're in...there are a lot of potential captions for this photo. I think there could be a photography award of some kind for me in the future for this beauty!

I'm getting out of my car the other night (early morning) and I see this high heel...laying in a handicap parking spot. I thought to myself..."Hmmm...what an interesting picture this would be. I personally (because my brain is like a scatterboard) produced about 5 or 6 possible captions to this photo. I can only imagine how many more I am missing.


I have nothing to say on this one.....kind of speaks for itself!

See this guy in the picture above? You're probably expecting me to say something nasty about him, right? Well...sorry to disappoint you. I'm not going there. In fact, never even met the guy or had him at my table. He was seated a couple of tables over. I'm just sharing this with those of you who never get a chance to get out to Vegas for the World Series. You see a LOT of this stuff, crazy hairdos, whacky outfits...just a lot of crazy shit that causes you to take a double look. Yesterday, a guy...yes a guy...went waltzing into the Rio dressed up like Snow White...I'm not shitting you. Even wearing red high heels. He was not a pretty lady either. I'm assuming he lost a bet. I hope so anyway. I tried to get a picture...but he was just moving too fast.

The one thing about the WSOP that is so different from traveling and playing in circuit events is that you get people from all over the planet. I can't deny that I hate the way Euro's play...but I also relish the opportunity to meet new people from other countries, and make some new friendships. Poker is one of those things that offers the opportunity to expand your cultural boundaries without actually leaving US soil. Kind of neat.

Received a text message from Ken Lambert at the Beau Rivage/Goldstrike...letting me know that he is leaving there, to take a position at Choctaw Casino in Oklahoma. I'm not sure if Ken is from Oklahoma...maybe that would be the lure to take that gig. I do know that I have always liked and respected Ken...and am a bit sad to see him leave the Gulf Coast. But I wish him happiness in his new job. I've also met a few new friends from the Choctaw Casino area...so I see a trip up that way in my near future.

On the Fourth of July Kai and I decided to go play in the Suzie and Howard Lederer Charity tourney at the Golden Nugget. By the time I had bought in...and rebought twice...and taken an add on...I was in for $525. First place was $10k. I did not win. There were a lot of players at the table who had ZERO experience. And if you have ever played in a charity event with people who are better at 'Go Fish' then they are at poker...you know that you are in trouble. The other issue was that we had a few dealers who had NO clue what they were doing. As a poker player who does this full time...to sit and watch mistake after mistake...and not lose it, or come off sounding like a know-it-all prick...its hard. So taking a Xanax...and just sitting back and laughing to yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation is usually the best idea.


Written on that napkin...are the rankings of poker hands in the order of strength. How do you play against THAT player?


Kai Landry finds a guy who has caught 4th of July fever and isn't afraid to show his patriotism. Yes that is a super kick-ass mullet. God bless America!

In the photo on top...this guy was sitting across from me in the 1-seat. See the napkin. After awhile, I noticed it had writing on it. I could see the words "All In" so I had to get a closer look. On break...I went over to check it out. It was a checklist of the hand rankings! From 'Ace High'...on down....'one pair', 'two pair'...all the way up to 'Royal Flush' which next to that he had written 'All In.' That was hilarious! Everytime it was his turn he had to be told by someone. Had to be told to post his blinds. His raise was always not enough. Charity tourneys are something I think I'm going to have to skip in the future.

In the other photo...Kai was obsessed with this guy...who he insisted was the former lead singer for the Thompson Twins. Sporting star-spangled pants...he had shaved half of his head...while the other half was allowed to grow long, wild and free. It was sort of a mullet. Very different. But you gotta love his patriotic spirit!!!

Could this be my future mode of transportation?


An era in American space travel has come to a sad close this morning, with the final launch of Space Shuttle Atlantis...after this, we become hitchhikers. Nice!

This morning...while in and out of sleep..I was suddenly woken by CNN's coverage of the last shuttle launch, ever. I'm glad I woke up. I've always been fascinated, my whole life...by space travel. As a 17 year old...I sat there in the student union at Lake Washington High School...watching as the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded while on launch. I will never forget that feeling. Or the feeling I had when Space Shuttle Columbia broke up on re-entry over Texas...killing the entire crew. I hate to imagine the suffering that all those crews and their families were forced to endure. But the way they lived their lives...challenged by the forces of nature, to reach heights few people ever get to achieve...to me, is worth dying for. I can't believe, or stomach the fact that our country is becoming so broke that we now have to rely on a $65m hitch-hike mission on a Russian spaceship now to reach our own International Space Station. And China is aggressively pursuing a space program right now...threatening to leave us in the dust. It sucks.


Yeah Casey...you think YOU'RE shocked?

Great job by the prosecution team down in Florida for the ability to put child killer Casey Anthony in jail for life. Just three weeks ago, the big debate was 'Should Florida seek the Death Penalty' for Casey Anthony? Or just life in prison? No one was even questioning whether she would be found guilty or not. It was just a matter of 'how will she be punished?'


Way to go Casey. You pulled it off. Now you can get back to what you really found to bring you the most joy in life...unencumbered partying. Step right up boys...Casey has a lotta catching up to do!

So, due to a horrendous job of proving guilt in the case...and instead of approaching the case by charging her with something that would have been a lot easier to convict her of, they brazenly charged her with First Degree Murder...despite any hard evidence to actually link the bitch to the crime. Just a whole lot of 'circumstantial' evidence. Never mind that her own family more or less turned on her and doubted her innocence. Instead of charging her with, say...conspiracy, or manslaughter, or reckless endangerment of a minor...hell, I don't know...my backer is a former attorney, I'm sure she has a better grasp on how this should have been handled...and is just as pissed off if not more, than most of the public out there.

I will say one thing though...seeing these idiots in the street protesting her NOT GUILTY verdict? Get a life people. What are you trying to bring about? Nothing is going to happen to her. She is going to get released from jail. She will write a book. Who knows, probably get a damn reality show...she will move to LA probably...away from the scrutiny of her community. She will probably ex-communicate her Mom and Dad. Hell, she already denied her Mother's attempted visit today. She will go back to partying like its her job. She will turn into everyone's little sex toy. Why? What guy doesn't want to be able to tell 'his boys' that he banged Child Killer Casey Anthony? I mean...those kind of guys? They're all wired the same. Dipshits.


Look at that face. What could she have done that earned her a place in the woods in a shallow grave? How many people would give anything for one of these little angels?

I don't give two shits about Casey Anthony, or whether she got fried, locked away for life...or set free to go ruin her life on her own. Don't care. What makes me sad...is that this beautiful little angel named Kaylee was killed, stuck in a trunk, driven to the woods, and buried in a shallow grave. What did she do to deserve that? Cry too much? Annoy Mommie too much somehow? Its just sad. I hope God gave her a special little place in heaven.

I'm also glad the case is over so I don't have to see that bitch Nancy Grace's ugly, scowling face all over the TV. I have no idea how that skank manages to stay on TV. I mean...who out there LIKES her? Or do the TV execs keep her on KNOWING she is hated...but knowing people turn her on so they can just watch her and seethe?

HERE ARE SOME FUN LITTLE NANCY GRACE CLIPS....BITCH!!!

SOME MORE...hope you are enjoying.....I know I AM!!!

NANCY IS NOW A WEATHER EXPERT....what a Fu***ng C***!!!!

Nothing better than being BitchSlapped/Owned by a little girl! You go Elizabeth!!!!

Okay...that should be about enough Nancy-bashing for one day. I hate her. Hate her face. Hate her voice. Hate her hostility. Hate her views. DIE NANCY DIE!!!!

Meanwhile...its now 6:35pm. Day 1b is in full swing. I didn't play the 1pm Mega today. Or the $550 at 4pm. Nor will I play the 8pm $2k. Nope...my plan is to play SNG's all night. Hope to win a few of them...restore my suffering bankroll...and then play the 1pm $1k tomorrow (Saturday)...hope I win...and play on the last Day 1 on Sunday...and finish strong. If I do NOT win the Mega...I will pursue other avenues...namely, selling shares like I was going to do at the start of the summer...to ensure my place in the biggest tournament on the planet with the biggest opportunity for life changing money...with the greatest structure of any tourney in existence.

I MUST PLAY THE MAIN EVENT! If you are reading this...and want to post the $10k buy in...I will be willing to play for 35%. No less. These next 24 hours are going to be huge. Okay...time to shower up...and go make it happen!

MONKEY

***as I conclude this blog entry...the skies outside of my window are dark black..and a National Weather Service announcement just went out on the air...warning of high destructive winds and hail. Tornado??? In Vegas??? This could get exciting. ***

Finally....A Win!!!!

2011-07-06T15:37:00.000-05:00

Well, that only took 41 freaking days! And once again...when the dust settled, and there was no one left at the table...it wasn't elation or joy, or happiness that I felt. Just relief. And that feeling of confirmation. That I actually know what the hell I'm doing!

The day started quite irritatingly. Arrived on time and very excited for the $550. There was a nice field of around 450 players. I had a fun and friendly table...and won a few hands before our table broke. Then I got moved to 'hell' also known as Table 51.

On the first hand...holding K10h...on a limped pot...I flop a straight. By the time the river arrived, there was now a paired board and a possible flush, so when a guy bet 3200 and the other went all in for 5200 I felt I had to fold. Then I flop trip aces with A10d...having called this Euro's UTG min raise (him with 59c) and by the time the river arrived, the guy had himself a flush. I was starting to lose it.

Finally, Mr. Raise on My Button every time...did it again...and I woke up with KK...I re-raise him...from 400 to 950...and he puts me all in...for 8k! Um..okay. He had 44. I won. And was back in it. Coming back for Level 7...and sitting on about 12 big blinds...the guy UTG min raises. I'm in the BB with AK. I call.

The flop comes K-7-4. I check raise the guy all in. Oh...he calls. Why? Because, he has AA. Gross. I'm out.

Go to play a SNG. Start out by winning a nice hand. Then I call this guy's raise with A2h. Why? Well, lets just say I have a bit of a read on this guy. I flop 4 to the wheel AND the flush. I'm not going anywhere. He bets big again. I call. I turn a wheel...a 3....giving him a set. I check again. He puts me all in. I call. He sees my hand and grimaces...until the last 3 in the deck hits the river. Yeah. Quads. Out. Fun Times.


This is the 'stand in' monkey...filling in for the Kidnapped Raising Monkey. He had a bit of a rough start yesterday before finally stepping up and earning his keep in the nightly!

See this below? Yes...it's a comic book. This is what cool readers and cool poker friends do. They give me cool shit that are monkey-related. In this case, Charlie Townsend found these three kick-ass comic books...called HIT MONKEY...which, is along the lines of HIT GIRL...from KICK ASS...which I watched on NetFlix again the other day during a tourney. Love that little chick in her purple outfit.

Anyway...right about now I am in the frame of mind where I am about to go 'Hit Monkey' on whoever has my monkey! Yeah, I've been reading and posting all of your comments...suggesting a conspiracy theory regarding the whereabouts of Mr. Raising Monkey. NO! I do not think a friend is hiding him from me. Nobody I know is that stupid.


This Monkey is a BADASS! And if you stole my monkey...you can bet he is coming to get you!!!!

So I go buy into the nightly. And Kai shows up to play it as well, even though he hates nightly's. I get off to a good start. Then I limp with AKd. Knowing, at this aggressive ass table that someone will raise. Someone does. From 200 to 750. He gets FIVE callers...so with 9000 chips, I decide to shove. Only the original raiser calls...with 10-10. I flop an ace....yes! Wait! Ten on the river! Boooom! Busto! Fuck!

I go rebuy. Thankfully. And that was the beginning of a 7 hour roller coaster ride. Get a big stack. Lose a big stack. Have the chiplead, lose the chiplead. Guy shoves all in with Q10. I call with 10-10. River...flush. Guy shoves all in with 55. I call with 77. River? Flush. Granted...I cracked AA with AKd....flush....and KK with AKc...flush...so I did my share of slapping some bad beats on people too. When we got to the final table...the chop-badgering began. Did I say badgering? You know who DOESNT give a shit? About ANYthing? Including chopping? You guessed it! The Honey Badger!

And like the Crazy, Nasty-Ass Honey Badger...Monkey don't give a shit about chopping...especially with a bunch of shitty players who are too afraid to play it out. So I said NO! When we were 7 handed, when we were 6 handed...when it was 5, then 4...and finally...3. And mostly, it was the same twerp who wouldn't shut about it. At one point...when we were 5-handed...they wanted to take $3k each...and he literally says:

"I mean...dude...seriously, what's the difference between $3k and $6k? Really?"

Huh? Did you really just ask that? The answer to your question is: $3k!!!!

Yeah...the interest wasn't there. So I get heads up on the kid who earlier sucked out on me with his 55 vs. my 77 on a miracle runner runner flush BS suckout. This kid was NOT a good heads up player. I mean...I think I'm just average...but against this kid I was like a machine. We were even when we started...then over the course of an hour...I managed to get him down 3 to 1...and was looking for a hand to put him away. But then I raised with 78...and he shoved on me. I had raised to 150k. He was all in for another 275k. I had 1.4m. Seemed like a good place to get in with a live hand and just hope he had ace-something. So I called. Oh he did have ace-something alright. AA. Whooops. So after doubling him up...we were back to virtually even. Damn!

At that point...and at 3am...it seemed like a good time to NOT fuck around...first was $6200...second $3800. I did NOT want to walk out of there with $3800. So I relented, agreeing to both take $5000 and calling it a night. I tipped out $200 to the dealers and $100 to the floor...and Kai, who had also cashed, a min cash...but still a cash...took off for Denny's, our newest favorite late-night place.

It felt good to finally win something decent. Yeah...I know its not a $15k score or more...that will really help me with a LOT of issues in my life...but its a start. And it felt good to outlast the largest nightly field they've had all summer at Venetian (273).

Today is the day I have to try and get my Main Event seat locked up. I really hope I get that out of the way on the first try...I really don't want to have to take a bunch of shots at it. But on the other hand...to NOT play the Main Event would be the ultimate kick in the balls, too.

As usual there is a lot of shit to write about...but I am going to get over to Rio and get into the $1k Mega...those are the ones I like the most. They are also running $500's (which I hate...one out of 20 win...bad odds) and $2000's...one out of every 5...best odds, but not crazy about paying 1/5th of the actual buy in...but might have to play that anyway. If I win my seat, I'm not sure which day I want to play...probably either the FIRST day...or the last day. Really doesn't matter. Its nice if you play Day 1a though, and survive...because then you have 4 days to play other shit...and goof off, maybe chill out at the pool...knowing you have advanced. Guess I'll just play it by ear.

See ya guys.

Monkey

MONKEY IS MISSING!!!!

2011-07-04T18:45:00.000-05:00


This, as you know...is pretty much a member of my family. This is Mr. Raising Monkey...with me for my entire career in poker, and something that is very special to me.


Me and the Monkey...in happier times

Yesterday...Saturday, July 3rd 2011 is going to go down as a 'not very good day' in my poker life.

After playing 11.5 hrs in the Rio $1k...and actually affording myself the opportunity to start thinking about a major score...my dreams ended when, nursing 7 BB's, I was forced to shove all in at cutoff with A8d into the guy who had been literally raising to 1500 EVERY hand, and failing to miss almost never. He had snapped a guys aces with queens, to get a monster stack...and it never stopped.

I ran into his BB with him holding, what else? A pair. Of nines. I flopped a straight draw, turned a flush draw...then, splat...bricked the river. My day was over.

I decided to jump into the 10pm $130. Barely made it in time. Mistake. Ran QQ into KK on the first hand I played. Rebought. Then...on an open-ended straight flush board...raise this old man from 1200 to 3500...who, by the way, was betting with nothing but ace high, and oh yeah...CALLING the raise with that same ace high. He turned an ace. I missed everything. Poof!

Then it was off to sit n go land to meet up with the Kai-ster...who has had Borat playing in our room all day. This might tell you something about Kai. Maybe not.

Played the first one. Third place. Played the next one, first one out. Played another, third place. Then on the last one...Kai and I got heads up...and with me holding a 3 to 1 lead...we were going to play it out for pride...but our grouchy dealer kept scolding us for talking in the hand...apparently not giving one shit that we are friends and roomies and were really just playing for bragging rights. His asshole-ishness finally became too much and I just said "Lets Go Kai!" So we chopped $1200 each and called it a night.

But before that happened...something very traumatic occurred. I have no idea how, when, or why...but someone stole my monkey. The floor guy Don was nice enough to call surveillance, and they weren't able to see anything. Everyone looked for it. I tried to not let it affect me...but shit, that monkey and I have been together for a LONG time...it is really kind of a part of me. And I have to admit, when I woke up this afternoon...it HIT me. Holy shit! Monkey is gone. Someone has Monkey. And now I'm just pissed off.

Kai and I are about to go to the Golden Nugget to play in Howard Lederer's Charity poker tourney that they have every year on the 4th of July. Usually I would be going to Frank Kassela's house for his annual party on the 4th...but I haven't heard from him...hardly at all this summer, so I'm not sure if he even is having it. At any rate...it should be a fun event, its for the Boys and Girls Club of Las Vegas I think.

I would like EVERYONE to KNOW...that ANY information leading to the recovery of my Monkey will result in a handsome reward. I mean...whoever took it, what are they going to do with it? Its one of a kind...EVERYONE will KNOW who it belongs to. Monkey can be identified by some very discernible scars...a chipped ear, a nick above his right eye, a fractured foot, and a piece missing from the bowl that is holding the nuts. I have called the Dairy Council of America to inquire about putting Monkey on the back of a milk carton. Monkey MUST BE FOUND! Please help me bring Monkey home!!!!!

Happy Fourth of July to everyone....except that asshole who has Monkey...I hope you get hit by a city bus, then ran over by a Prius. And if you're still alive after THAT...I hope an angry mob stomps on you till you slip into an irreversible coma.

Have a nice day.

Go Mariners.

Roll Tide.

Hi Mom.

Love you Squirrel.

MONKEY

Superstitious??? Who!!!??? Me???

2011-07-03T13:33:00.000-05:00

No. Never. Not even a little bit. Okay. Fine. You got me. That's a big huge lie. Sort of like today, for instance. It's Sunday. Every day in Vegas has been about 110 degrees, and sunny, of course. Not a cloud to be seen. So last night, I call it an early night...with the intention being to get some sleep, get up at 9am...hit the pool for two hours, swim a few laps, then head to Rio for day 1b of the last $1k event. How are we looking on that plan?

I'll tell you how. After getting my bathing suit on and brushing my teeth, I wander down to the pool, step out into the....what!!!??? The rain? Yeah. RAIN! Slight wind blowing, clouds filling the sky...and RAIN!!!! Just then I noticed I was standing under a ladder....as a black cat went running by me! Okay...maybe those last two things didn't happen, but they should have. I have no doubt that while shaving in the shower today I will

drop, and break...my mirror. So what has gotten me on this superstition kick? I don't know. Things are just going very bizarrely the last few days. To start it off...I have stopped wearing my flip flops and started wearing shoes. For four days now of not wearing shoes...I have won money. My main motivation for not wearing my flip flops was two things. (a) I was tired of my feet always being sweaty. (b) I was tired of my feet being so dirty from all the Vegas soot that I couldn't even get them clean, even by scrubbing them with soap.

I also have a certain hat that has done nothing but bring me back luck. It is now buried in a place where I will not accidentally screw up and grab it. There is a certain bracelet that whenever I wore it I was feeling doomed. It too has been stashed. But the ONE major thing that has me wondering...WTF is going on here?

I have been playing at Caeser's a good deal this summer...after a three-year hiatus, and one thing that continues to persist in my poker career...is that I tend to run VERY good at that poker room. To a point. Something very strange has now occurred three times. And this last one really let a mark.

Kai and I went to play the $340 there on his first day back in town the other day. At the end of the first break I had over $90k ($25k starting stack) and he had around $50k. We were cruising. My stack would dwindle...while his would grow. When we arrived at 38 players...11 from the money, tragedy struck. Poker tragedy.

Super-aggressive Asian kid raises my BB. It folds to me. I look down at...ding ding ding...AA. Perfect. I don't shove all in...like a lot of retards who want to make sure they get NO value out of their aces, I re-raise. Which leads to 'Mr. I can't ever fold AK or JJ preflop, EVER' to shove all in. Obviously I didn't fold. As you can see in the photo above...the flop produced a Q-10-8 board...providing him with hope, the 'ol ONE card to hit...a harmless 2 on the turn had me thinking about an about-to-be massive chip stack. Then the kick in the gut...BOOM! Jack on the river. OMG. Not again! This left me with 1500 chips. The blinds, in case I didn't mention it...were 3k/6k with a 500 ante. Yeah. And I was the SB next hand.

Well, I would put on quite a miraculous charge...waking up with AK that next hand...and winning. Shoving on the button with J9...and winning. Then, before I knew it...I had 85k about 15 minutes later. It was incredible. I would squeak into the money...then start a little charge. I kept picking up spot after spot...then...when I had gotten up to 300k...with the average at around 442k...I actually started thinking about winning this damn tournament, and walking out of there with close to $15k.

Forget it. With 13 players left...the guy on my right raises on the button for the umpteenth time. I look down at AK. Nice! I shove all in. BB folds, he snap calls (????) and turns over.......AQ? AJ? Middle pair? How about KK? Ohhhhh shittttt. And simultaneously the douchebag in the BB tells me he folded A10. Thanks, pal. No two outer for me...and I was out....in......ya ready??? Once again....13th place! This marks the THIRD time at Caeser's in the past two weeks where I have finished in 13th place. Is that creepy? Or am I just being dramatic? You decide.

Last night, while waiting in valet at Venetian...this all happened in a 3-minute period of time. First...its the night of a big UFC fight in Vegas...which always means you are going to see a lot of goofy shit.


*Um yeah...sweetie, if you could please just slide your arm down a little lower? And your foot up a little higher? Yeah...that would be great...thanks!*

Okay...NO! This is NOT what we see...but sure is what we WISH we were seeing, instead, right? Yeah well...life isn't perfect!


*Yo! How you doin!?? Whatchu looking at? You gots a problem? Get outtta heeere!*

Instead...lots of THIS. Lots of it. Most of it dressed in TapOut gear. Nearly all of them showing off their tattoos. And of course, their muscles.


*Keeping tanning salons in New Jersey booming!!!*

Yeah...a lot of this! So a limo pulls up...not just the normal, run of the mill limo, but one of those Hummers that they have customized to be about 80 feet long, and tall enough so people can actually dance inside of it. The doors open...and here they come, the bimbos, dark haired, dyed blonde...all with attitude, all with their East Coast style of dress. I counted 9 in all...all dancing, most with drinks in hand...some of them dodging cabs that don't care anything about their celebratory mood. And then....out he comes. All 5'4 of him. The host for the evening...we'll just call him Vinnie. He was as happy as a pig in shit. And ohhhh baby, was he ever 'The Man.' If you don't believe me...you could just ask HIM!

Two seconds later...I hear a ruckus. Coming in my direction is a group of black folks...maybe 8 of them. One kid, about 8 years old, is carrying a stroller over his shoulder. The Mom is carrying her toddler, who is sound asleep...the Dad has a 40-ouncer in his hand...and three teenage boys are shirtless...and all of them have their pants literally past their thighs...almost to their knees...with their boxer shorts the only thing you could really see, and of course, their ass. I was so shocked...as were all the 'normal' people standing out front of Venetian...that I forget to snap a photo.


*Oh don't worry, the opportunity to snap a photo of a child out way past midnight didn't have to wait too long, minutes in fact. Poor kid...can only wonder where HIS future is headed.*

I just do NOT understand what is going on in our society. What makes the stupid trends so hot, what makes people such bad parents....just baffles me. As I say this, we are awaiting the verdict on the fate of 'The Tot Mom' as Nancy Grace has so annoyingly taken to calling Casey Anthony.

Casino walkers/perusers continue to hold a very firm spot in my Top 3 things to hate about Las Vegas. Lets just STOP in the middle of a busy walkway to either take a photo, or just reassess where we are and where we are going next! Or...when we are standing in the busiest walk area...and we see our good friend from 10 years ago...lets stop right there and scream "Oh My God!!!!" and hug and reminisce while 100's of people are trying to get by you! If there are 5 of you...make sure you all walk spread out in ONE LINE so NO ONE can get by you. Please...please do that! And couples...if you are going up an escalator...by all means, please make sure you don't stand one behind the other. No no...I insist that you stand side-by-side...and make no attempt to let anyone behind you get by you.

Kai and I were talking about this yesterday, and we have both taken to a more militant style of dealing with errant walkers. Its called the 'drop the shoulder and brace for impact' style of walking. I sent a guy nearly to the ground the other night coming out of Caesers when he was just walking/weaving towards me while cursing to his friends...and then....right as he neared me....Kapow!

"Excuse me" I offered. Kai giggled. LEARN HOW TO WALK IN VEGAS you idiots! I swear...someone should offer a class on how to effectively and safely navigate your way (by foot) through the streets and casinos of Las Vegas.

I played the Main Event at the Golden Nugget yesterday. Or...better yet, it played ME. From the time I sat down, I hated my table, three of the same guys from my Caeser's table the day before. And one from the other day...the faggy little Swiss guy with the light blue headphones, the yellow ridiculous glasses, and the nasty little habit of taking an unacceptable amount of time to act on EVERY hand. I bluffed myself a huge pot early...and turned my 25k starting stack into about 33k early. For the most part...I just sat there folding.

They moved this guy with a very, very long and pointy nose to our table. After seconds of watching him operate, I could tell he was a cash game player. He was very fond of punishing the limpers. Which gave me the idea of limping strong...or even semi-strong, calling his raise, and trying to snare his ass. Such case nearly occurred, but instead resulted in my eventual demise.

With Q-10s I decide to limp for 200. He of course makes it 550...this time with the always dangerous 6-9 offsuit. Everyone else folds. I call. He...for your viewing pleasure is the hand.

We will call the flop INCREDIBLE. I check. He leads out for 750 with his middle pair, no kicker, and no other draw. I decide not to fool around too much...and raise him to 1850. He thinks....then calls. Turn card paired the board, which I thought was probably good for me. Now I bet pretty big. He tanks. Then raises. Feels like a move. I shove all in. He snap calls...and shows me that he turned trips. You GOTTA be kidding me!!!!!??? And of course I miss hitting either another Q or any spade for the flush. And I was crippled, and left wanting to saw this guy in half. (yes...that is a remote Pinocchio reference)

Our table would break shortly after that. I took my 4500 to another table...got blinded down to about 2200...got it in with A5 against 33 and double up...only to lose on the very next hand. Really a disappointing day.

Then I jetted down to Venetian to play the nightly. That was a joke. There is a fat, crazy, Russian guy with a big bushy beard who plays a lot of nightly, and almost never cashes...but he does manage to take out a lot of players early with his insane style. Raising nearly every hand...and always too much, he drives the table nuts. Well I get AA behind one of his 4x re-raises and just flat call...which brings in another player. Flop is whatever it is. He bets a lot. I smooth call. Other guy folds. Turn is also whatever. He bets again. It's half my stack. Now I go all in. A 10k pot and he only has to call 2k more. He tanks. I finally call clock on him. He drains the clock then folds. Sigh. So now I have chips.

I get 44 at 200/400 in early position...and limp. Which sets off a frenzied limp fest. 7 players in all. Flop comes 4-3-6 and the BB shoves all in. I sense defeat, but still feel like I have to call. Another one calls...wow! BB turns over 5-5. Uh oh...open ended. But would he hit a 2 or a 7? No...instead the dealer turns a 6, giving me a boat...and cutting down his outs to just two fives and two sixes. River? Yep...a six. Giving him a bigger full house. Unreal. Crippled me.

But I did rally...but still fell short, going out 38th out of 154 players. Another waste of time.

Wandered over to SNG-land...and JUST missed getting the last seat on a sit-n-go. Damn. Finally got into a $130...with the whole table in on a $20 last longer. After winning a few hands...I call a guy's UTG raise of $350 with KK. Four other people call. Great! The flop comes K-J-3 with two diamonds. Original raiser goes all in. The next guy also goes all in. I call...everyone is getting excited. The button goes all in! Wow..nice pot here. You all know I'm losing this hand right? To the original raiser...who had A7d. Nice hand sir. Nice flush on the river. FML!

Left me with 200 chips at 75-150. Make a long story not as long...I made a huge comeback...and eventually WON that SNG...and the last longer money...which really left me feeling pretty good as I left the Venetian for the night. The ironic hand...was when that same guy who snapped my KINGS called my all in shove holding 5's with two kings of his own...and me hitting a 5 on the turn! Ha Ha!

So today...yeah, based on the sheer number of players that entered yesterday in the $1k at Rio...I don't see any way possible that I can miss this tourney...even if it is a total crapshoot. I also don't want to be too late getting over there...so I am going to need to wrap this up. Trust me, I still have plenty of things to chat about. Just didn't want to get too much father behind!!!!

Monkey

"Ahhhh what the Hell, I'm tired...."

2011-07-01T13:50:00.000-05:00

If you are a poker player...either professional or part-time, you have at one time or another heard this line. And everytime you hear it...doesn't it usually almost always precede your demise?


Ohhhh...I know you have me beat, Sonny Boy...but hell, I really don't care about this tourney, and I'm so tired, my Geritol is wearing off, and I need to get home to see the late edition of Cagney & Lacey on Lifetime....what the hell, I call!

Things are going perfectly fine. Your stack is right where it needs to be to have a chance. 'That Guy' who likes to limp every hand...no-no...I mean, EVERY HAND...has once again limped in...when you look down at that pesky AK. Suited, even. So you raise, in this case...from 200/400 to 1600.

Folds to the guy in the SB...the one who has been whining about his brief outing at the Rio in the WSOP earlier...who is sporting a horrible sun burn, to compliment his bad haircut, all while rubbing his head in an act of self pity. He squirms around in his chair...and finally decides to call the 1600...leaving behind 3400...another awesome decision by the not-so-talented poker amateur from God-knows-where. Leg Humper McGee also decides his hand is worth another 1200.

You thank the Poker Gods when the flop comes A-2-4. They both check...and you are certain you have just won yourself a nice 5k pot. You bet 3k. Then you hear the sound of the scratching record...made when a white guy walks into a party at an all-black fraternity house...

And you hear that line: "Ahhhh what the hell, I'm tired...I'll gamble with you." Huh? Yeah...tired old redneck has moved all in...and the first thing you wonder is how bad his kicker is, and will he hit it? Humpy the Leg Humper folds...you call, and are waiting to see his Ax when he turns over 5-5. Oh. Fives? Called with a gutshot? Well, okay...I guess we like that call? Or do we? A five hits the river...and the speech from 'The Tired Guy' begins. You just bury your head in your hands...bite your tongue, and wait for the next song to start on your iPod. You have been had by THE OLD TIRED GUY!

Couple of things. In Vegas...content just piles up. Fast. I have no shortage of things to blog about. What I do have a shortage of...is time. And I know most of you are NOT capable of sitting down and reading for more than 4-7 minutes...so a real battle rages in my writing decisions on how much needs to be edited out. In a slow month...while playing somewhere like Tunica...it is a struggle to come up with shit to write about. But in Vegas? Are you kidding me? I have taken to using the 'Voice Memo' app on my iPhone to start recording things so I don't forget them. So much funny shit happens (at least in my opinion) that I find myself not even talking about poker very much.

Lets get into somethings:


Taxi! Dammit! Taxi!!!! WTF!??? Look at MEEEEE...I'm super hot! Why won't any of you stop!!??? Are you gay or what? Son of a ......

While in Vegas...you will see lots of women. Around 2-4am every day you will see them roaming around the streets of the city, a high percentage of them carrying their high heels in hand...and becoming a member of what I like to call "The Black Footers" gang...girls walking barefoot thru the streets of Vegas when their feet can take no more of the pain the shoes have afforded them, all in the interest of looking sexy. The smart/classy ones anticipate this and carry with them...a small, thin pair of flip flops. These are the ones you bring home to the parents.

Well, my favorite is when I see a gaggle of girls standing on the corner trying to hail a taxi cab. We all know where these ladies are from, right? Yep...these are East Coast broads. New York, New Jersey, maybe Boston. Where the way to get a cab is stand in the street and yell or whistle as loud as you can while holding you arm in the air. Not in Vegas ladies...nope! Cabs here are required to pick up passengers at designated places...like the front of hotels. Those girls will just stand there for God knows how long...and its just funny. Very funny.

See that chip stack? Limit player. You see this all the time...but only with limit players? Why? Why do they do this? Occasionally, you will get a player in a NL tourney who will stack his chips like that...and you know immediately that this is a predominantly limit player. I wish I knew why they do this. It baffles me. While driving me crazy at the same time...especially if I am seated next to them. Yikes.

See this car? Yes...it is a piece of shit. Sitting outside of Caeser's Palace, in the Valet waiting area...I was surrounded by a plethora of horribly dressed Mexican girls, from somewhere in Southern California...and their pimped up boyfriends. I counted 11 of them. Then this sound emerges...what is that? What the hell...I am looking around...and there it is. THE BEAST! Mis-matched quarter panels, fender hanging from the front of the thing...puttering, sputtering...I see the valet guy climb out of it, and the look on his face is priceless. Something like "OMG...get me outa this thing!!!"

First of all, why would ANYONE park this piece of crap in valet in the first place? I think there should be some qualifying parameters to parking in valet. One of them should be that you can guarantee the parking attendants that the car will make it to their lot and back to the pick up site without breaking down. Well, this one barely made it. And I sat in amazement...and SHOCK...as I watched all 11 of them pile into this hunk of crap. ELEVEN! And off they went. Well, at least their being energy conscious, right? Carpooling is alive and well on Friday night in Vegas!!!


Hi! I'm Kai Landry's hot iron...or hair press...or whatever you want to call me. I hide under the bathroom sink where Monkey can't find me...

Yeah...I made the discovery this week while Kai was off dilly-dallying in Biloxi with his new car and new poker table. Now we know the secret of Kai's scarecrow-looking hair do. I didn't think there was any way that hair of his could be natural. And of course...it isn't. Like a little bitch, he's in there spending way-too-much time making that shit do things that no man with a penis over three inches should EVER be even thinking about performing. I'm guessing his little girls aren't aware of this deep dark secret. I'm not telling them.


OMG OMG OMG!!! Are you Durrrr??? I'm like, you're biggest fan...can I please get your autograph? And maybe a picture with you????

Yeah, that's him. The subject of my ire. The one who has trained all these fucktards how to slow the game down to a mind-numbing pace. Who has made staring like a deer in the headlights all the rage. During a break in the 1500 he happened by...and before I could open-field tackle him and curse him for causing me to miss at least an extra 5 or 6 hands of EVERY level of EVERY tournament this summer...he was intercepted by this dork wanting to initiate his 'brush with greatness.' You see this a lot in Vegas during WSOP. Poker dorks who idolize those who have had a modicum of success in poker. I don't get it. I just don't get it. It's not that I necessarily want to punch these guys in the face...I just feel sorry for them, for being such losers that they think a brief, meaningless conversation, or a photo op, with a successful poker player somehow enriches their life. Ugh.


Who is that hooded villian? Is it Dwyte 'The Duke' Pilgrim? Or could it just be Senor Monkey striking a villianous pose? Go with Option B.

Poker has been kicking my ass a little less that past week. I've managed to snap off a couple of more decent sized SNG's at Rio. I've had a couple of min cashes. Yesterday at The Nugget, I took 3rd in the $550 limit Omaha, for $2100...I'd like to give details, but I'm now short on time, and Kai and I are going to go play the $340 at Caeser's today. I think tomorrow it will be the $1k Main Event at Nugget...Saturday I think its the $1k at Rio...unless I'm at the Final Table of Nugget, in which case I will play the Rio $1k on Sunday instead. Then the big $1k satellites start for the WSOP Main Event...which I absolutely, positively MUST be a part of this year. I had a couple of deep, deep runs in the $235 2pm Deepstacks at Rio...one that ended with me going out 118th (paying 117) when I got AQ in against AK and lost while enjoying a day where I was chipleader at my table for about 10 levels. That was awesome. A couple days later I went out 30 from the money.

This has been a summer full of close calls and disappointing river beats. Hypothetically, I could very easily be up about $80 to $100k right now...but as it is I am instead down about $10-$12k. I would call that horrible...except that I hear all these guys brooding about being down $30 or $40k and I find myself feeling pretty good. I mean..these are what most consider to be 'excellent' players...so maybe I'm not doing all that bad. Whats freaking me out...is that all of my winnings in SNG's and Tourneys total about $17,000...and I'm down that much? Yeah...rough business this poker! But as we all know...it only takes on decent score to make all that pain go away.

Okay...I've gotta split. I will try not to wait another week before I blog again!!!!

MONKEY

Time To Get Hot....

2011-06-27T16:17:00.000-05:00

OR ELSE!!!!!

No pressure or anything...but I have been here for 30 days now...and I am running out of chances to take home enough money to calm my nerves, my wife's nerves, my dogs appetite for skoobie snacks, my backer's confidence in me, and my ability to continue thumbing my nose at the prospect of that thing we professional poker players fear the most....'GETTING A REAL JOB!!!!!!'


Yeah...this is what I have waiting for me on the horizon if I continue to get my AA cracked by stupid assholes who think KJ offsuit is a hand that is perfectly acceptable for calling 4x re-raises with.

There was a tiny bit of good news today, received while painfully being subjected to Mark 'No Neck' McGrath and his 'Don't Forget the Lyrics' while trying to wake up this morning. I can't think of one show on TV that is more annoying than that pile of shit. It's funny to go watch Karaoke...and watch people make complete jagoffs of themselves. What's even funnier...is when you see those people who you KNOW are taking it really, super seriously...actually making it a 'career' almost. Those are the ones you go to see because you need someone to hate on. And then...once they feel they have conquered everything there is to conquer in the world of Karaoke...they take their 'skillz' to a broader audience...a.k.a. Mr. No Necks pile of shit game show.

Today...and, don't get me wrong...I know I have the option of 'turning the channel' on my TV here in the Riviera that likes to mysteriously shut itself off every 1 hour and 23 minutes. No idea why. And no...I know what some of you are thinking and about to leave as a comment...it is NOT set to 'sleep timer' mode. Already checked that out. My channel options are very limited...pretty sure that is on purpose, to keep us OUT of our rooms and gambling, as much as possible. Pretty sure I am sidebarring again. Might not even write about poker today at ALL...as I need to get to Rio for what promises to be another huge mutant field of close to 1000 idiots in the 2pm Deepstack.

Where was I? Oh...yeah...about to bitch about the most annoying woman I have ever seen. More annoying than that mumbling, Upper-Michigan dwelling C-word from my table in the 10pm at Rio the other night...the day I lost 5 tourneys in one day...tying a record previously set a couple weeks ago. At least I had the pleasure of watching that irritating, chain-smoking who** get her set busted and put on the rail before I was. I paid the guy who busted her $20 for making my life better. No...it was NOT a bounty...and NO...no one knew I was going to pay him. It just seemed like a good time to tip the waiter...I mean, bitch killer.

So this lady today on 'The Show?' Everything she said was followed by...."Whooooooooo!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhh" And a big cheerleader leg kick. I'm not kidding. If she locked in the lyrics and they were right? Which she only did twice...she did a big spin move, leg kick followed by the splits on the stage. I shit you not. If I could have killed her with my eyes...or made a piano fall from the sky and land on her....she would have been dead. When they cut away to her 'awesomest boyfriend ever' you could tell that it was as good as she would EVER do. This guy was bald, dumpy and clearly a brow-beaten fool. And the girl...was actually attractive, with a nice body...but just...well, you guys don't need more of an explanation do you? No normal, handsome, half way cool man is EVER going to hook up with THAT girl. No way. This poor sap has to actually go out in public with this freaky bitch and introduce to his friends (if he even has any) to her...talk about a deal killer!

Next:

Rod Badhair-o-vich has been re-tried, and found guilty! AMEN. Finally, someone in this country has gotten what they deserve! Now if we could just put the oil executives on trial and watch those fu**ers being led away in shackles...I think we could all have a 'flash mob' celebration in unison, in say...Times Square in NYC.


Bye Bye Rod...sorry, but you AREN'T above the law, pal. Enjoy those fake mashed potatoes and your slice of bologna that will come your way on a daily basis you clown. And don't hesitate to let them kennel your ferret while you're away!

The other day...when I was losing five tourneys...I was in...Mmmmm, I believe it was the 6pm at Rio...which had backed up to 7pm...which allowed me to get in, after busting the 2pm that had been delayed to 4pm. Yeah...don't even try to stay with me here. Despite the Rio having something like 4,873,204 tables this year...they are drawing such HUGE turnouts that the later tourneys are STILL having to be backed up and delayed due to a lack of tables. Which I don't mind...since I am almost ALWAYS late to every tourney...either by design, or by accident...it works out pretty good for me. I actually end up being on time once in awhile.

So in this 7pm'er...I get moved to a table...into the 6 seat, and when I look over to the ten seat, I literally started laughing! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. This guy was completely going for the Sammy Farha table look. I mean...it was almost perfect. Same hair do. Same glasses. Even sat the same way. Same facial expressions. And of course, the retarded cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Yes...I took his picture. No, I will not post it here. You will have to settle for the real Sammy. I posted on my Facebook the hilarity, and invited people to come by my table to check out the Sammy Poser. I had, what? Three guys come by to check him out? And of course, they laughed as hard as I did.

At some point I started calling him 'Little Sammy' and had the whole table in stitches...I mean, they were ALL thinking it...and it always cracks me up when people WANT to say something....so bad, but just won't. But these are the same people who, if they were playing online poker...would never hesitate to type into the chat bar whatever they were/are thinking. Right? Sorry, but I have no problem saying what's on my mind, especially if its said in a non-hostile fashion. This clown LOVED IT when I started calling him Little Sammy. Why? Because, duh...obvious answer here...the guy was a fucking toolshed. And a lousy poker player.

Sammy...we found your illegitimate son. Please collect him from our table, and while you're at it...teach him how to play poker. Hey Sammy, its okay to tip your dealer and stop throwing your cards at them too. Have a nice day. Still hate you.

You all know I go by the moniker "The Monkey" obviously, right? Well, guess who, at the same table was seated in the two seat? Out of guesses? Good, cuz I am now running out of time. It was...the actual...MONKEY! I did NOT take this guy's photo, mainly because I could never get the proper angle. But if you look at the cartoon below, it will pretty much suffice as the same thing.


*Just because they LOOK like a cute loveable Monkey does NOT mean they aren't a complete douchebag. No...I am not talking about myself...for I am a completely loveable Monkey.*

Now, in my attempts to be a softer, kinder, more caring Monkey...I have tried to put myself in spots where I might feel a little empathy. I am looking at this....this....well, Monkey Boy...in the two seat, and he is making all these goofy facial expressions, like a Monkey. He raises, someone goes all in...and his face, ears and eyes start contorting. Holy shit! This guy belongs in a zoo. He was about 5'5 too. Which didn't help. I kept imagining him sitting on my shoulder as we played some street corner for buy ins. Then I started feeling sorry for him.

"Imagine going through life looking like this poor guy. I bet he's actually a really sweet guy...wouldn't he HAVE to be? I'm not going to make fun of him. In fact...if given the chance, I am going to befriend him."

Forget that. It only took two statements coming from his face before I decided instead of being warm and fuzzy that I instead wanted to Tazer his ass. It became very apparent that he was a product of internet poker. Making stupid overshoves...then defending them with logic that made no sense. He uttered about three or four of the most arrogant statements I'd heard this week...not to me, as I was firmly locked into a fierce battle of 'Words With Friends' while listening to B.oB. on Pandora...but another guy at the table. But after his last statement...he just morphed into the Evil Little Monkey who I am almost positive is either IN the closet...or will be coming out very soon.

Okay quick poker wrap up...then I have to go.

I now have a total of 7 cashes.

VENETIAN NIGHTLY: 2nd place, 6th place, 13th place

RIO 2PM: 9th place

CAESERS OMAHA: 13th place

CAESERS 4pm TURBO: 13th Place

and somewhere in there I'm forgetting one...but who cares?

Two days ago...in the 2pm at Rio...with 915 players...we get down to 130...or 35 from the money. I had not had AA or KK all day...and was just winning with skill and savvy. I finally get KK. Two hands after shoving my 12 BB's all in with AJ...and taking the pot to get up to 85k (at 3k/6k) I get KK and raise to 20k. Anyone? Hello? I'm just raising. Not shoving. Red flag? Probably a monster right? Okay...so man who looks like a Duckbill Platypus in the SB flats me with AQ. Fair enough. He had 120k to start the hand. But when the flop comes J-6-2 rainbow...and he insta-shoves...I certainly wasn't folding...and of course, when the dealer rattled off the Ace of Spades on the turn...followed by nothing on the river...instead of sitting at around 190k and coasting into the money after a treacherous 8 hour grind, I was instead collecting my shit and lining up for the 10pm tourney...which would result in me hating everything about Philadelphia.

Now...don't you think that idiot might have just put out a bet of...oh I don't know...say 25k? Maybe 30k? To see if he could just make me fold? Maybe fold behind my shove like the guy at Ceaser's yesterday who kept trying to lead out on every flop after I'd raised preflop...only to fold after I either jammed on him or re-raised? Naw...he is a Duckbilled Platypus...and they don't operate like that...they just close their eyes, hold their beak, shove in their chips, and pray.

PRAYER ANSWERED DIPSHIT. $39,000 for first place in that one.

In the next one, I get Mr Philly Guido on my right. Bad hair, bad jewelry, bad accent, bad poker game. Buddy loses his phone...or, OMG...had it stolen maybe...during the 1st break. And this clown starts calling everyone a 'fag' for stealing his buddy's phone.

"People are fags! Just fags!"

Really? I'm wondering...hmm...wonder how many gay people are sitting here at this table wanting to watch this guy's flesh melt off of his bones while being attacked by a pack of vicious wolves? Sure at least a couple.

So I had just finished working over this guy with a set of Queens...getting all but his remaining 700 chips and working my 7500 starting stack up to a quick 21k when knucklehead from Philly decides to take it from 75/150 to 700 at cutoff. Huh? Smells like Jacks to me? And so when I look down at AK suited...a hand I am never folding there...not in a $125 tourney, no way....I also notice that he has left only 3200 behind his raise. Nice play sir. So what do I do?

"Well, based on your raise, I think I know what you have...and with my hand, you have created a real situation for me....hmmm....so I guess I will raise to 2200 and let you do what you're gonna do."

Now this is usually where a player either just folds, or ships all in. What does Phillytard do? He smooth calls. I breathe a sigh of relief when the flop comes K-7-2. The players in the 1 and 2-seats both give me that "Way to hit your King" look...and then....wait...huh? Dummy moves all in?

"Um...okay...I will call your all in with pocket jacks, right?" and turn over my AK...only to see, what else? Oh! Pocket Jacks...duh.

No sweat...dealer turns him a Jack...he does the South Philly fist pump...with some kind of Pauly D/The Situation grunt...and I entered the 'Beginning of The End' zone in that tourney. And watched the idiot make one lousy play after another that somehow kept working out for him.

This is when you start totally losing your faith in poker.

Yesterday...after busting out of the Venetian nooner with a flop where I hit top set...got the bottom set guy to get it in with me...only to watch him river quads...I went over to Caeser's to play the 4pm turbo...with Justin 'Choctaw' Kruger in tow...who had also just busted...right after having just busted the Rio $1000...yes, he is running ALMOST as bad and unlucky as I am this summer...only he is the one who got fleeced for around 2k in a game of 3-card monty on the skybridge between Caesers and Bellagio. Don't be too hard on the kid...he's only 22 and hasn't figured out that most of society is participating in one big, gigantic angle shoot!

So we both play that. We both get chips early. We start Twittering and Facebooking about our hopes to 'Take It Down' together. It almost happens. We get moved to the same table when we get down to 24 from the original 188. He gets caught jamming Q10 into AK...and leaves 4 from the money. Bummer.

I raise with AA when we make the money...and get a guy to shove all in on me with 99. My aces held...I was up to 600k...and really started thinking I was going to maybe win this Super Psycho Turbo Shove Fest for $4195....and getting some pride, joy and money back in my bankroll.

We had all the chips on my table...the other table was almost all shortstacks...and almost all of them just kept sucking out on each other...we were stuck on 13 forever. And with the blinds at 30k/60k....600k soon became 500k...then 400k....shit...then this guy in the SB...hems, haws...and shoves on my BB....and I look down at 55. Time to take a stand...and try to get back up to around a million, with a chance. I call.

He flips over A7 off. Okay, I knew he was weak...good read...but I hate the two overs. I fade the flop. Okay...cool, cool....fade the turn....yeah baby...come on dealer....one more time....put a 2 out there.....and the river....

SEVEN!!!! Shit....SHIT SHIT SHIT....son of a......NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

MOTHERFU***ER....not again! Christ almighty! And I was out. 13th. For another damn min cash...this one for a mighty $365. Oh boy!

Poker is driving me crazy. It really is. I have a female alter ego by the way. Her name....well, her REAL name...is Weronika Brill....now its Starr...but when I met her 3 years ago, it was Veronica Brill. She has since moved from Canada to San Antonio, where she now lives with her fighter pilot (F-15s) husband Mark and drives herself insane playing poker. I've taken to calling her Wonky. Why? I don't know...just came to me. In the past two days...we are having almost the same exact experience everywhere we go to play. Only, I have yet to see her...we simply communicate by Facebook. And her rants are almost identical to mine. In a sick way...she is keeping me optimistic, and entertained at the same time. Some of her comments are so funny...I almost think its really Kai Landry on the other end of them.

There is plenty more to rant about...oh...oh...so much to rant about. But talking about poker? It's just effing boring. I gotta go now...its 2:15...time to go play at the Rio....can't wait to see the turnout. Wonder if it's 129 degrees outside? Sure it must be. The right side of my nostril is just about to split in half I think...soon to fall off into the desert sand...leaving me looking very unusual. This might need to be an adderal day. Maybe xanax. I bought an $8 bag of beef jerky yesterday. I'm a fool. But it was delicious. Go Mariners. I love you Squirrel. I miss you Mollie and Jasper. I am on Day 34 without a Whopper Jr....and hating it. Housekeeping has ignored me now for 3 days in a row. I'm on my last towel...as well as my last pair of clean boxer shorts.

Bye Bye now.

Monkey

End of The Insanity?

2011-06-24T15:27:00.000-05:00

N.O.P.E.

Close...but no cigar! Before I go deeper:

Squirrel is safely home now, with our lovable critters who miss us and are running low on Skoobie Snacks. (make some money Dad...make it NOW! No pressure)

Jason Derulo sings songs that I almost WANT to enjoy. However, when everyone of his songs starts with him crooning..."Jasssssson Derullllllo" it just makes me want to cringe. All I want is an explanation as to WHY this is happening.

Once your hotel refrigerator becomes coated with too much ice, it stops being cold. Apparently. This is where I am today...and at this moment, all contents are on the counter, the refrigerator door is wide open...and it is defrosting.

Our six-day cycle is up. Last six...on Kai...next six, on me. What does this mean? Generally it means a 20 minute wait in line to swap out credit card info and get new room keys. That and some lady with a clipboard knocking on my door every 12 minutes to ask if we are checking out today.

Its 12:30. I have a secret plan today. Its Omaha H/L limit at Nugget today. Showing up on time means nothing. Sit there and play, play play all the hands...and either get a little ahead of starting stack, or a little behind. In the process be slowly driven nuts by one river suckout after another. So why subject myself to that? Just skip it ALL. Show up around the end of Level 3...with a starting stack...and start from there.

Two weeks ago, it was the convention for what seemed like ALL of Scotland. This week...its a Geriatric Convention of some sort. Droves of elders everywhere. Scooters looming around every corner...waiting to run you down.

A few apologies are in order:

(1) To TBC...or Tony Big Charles...the guy who I admittedly made fun of on here a couple posts ago. Truth of the matter was...and its been confirmed by a lot of you readers...the guy kind of brings it upon himself. But we had an exchange via my Facebook, turns out he was born autistic...and he made a point of letting me know he was operating with a bit of a 'underdog' status when it came to locking horns with me. Well, obviously...its not like people sit down at the table with signs around their neck telling us they have a disability...if they did it would be a little easier to be sensitive to their condition. But honestly...when you sit down at the poker table...and decide to start shit-talking, unless you're in a wheelchair sucking oxygen out of a tube...then generally 'It's On!' Am I right? And then...if you are that guy in a wheelchair talking smack and being a prick...well, then you're just that asshole in a wheelchair. But you just try to bite your tongue and ignore the guy.

If you all remember a guy name Randall...a player who used to show up at a lot of the circuit events and WSOP, who often times wore a Tennessee Titans jersey...he was a guy I tried very hard to be nice to, but who was just ALWAYS a douchebag. I don't know if he is still around, and I certainly hope he is...but I'm honestly glad I haven't had to see him at the poker table lately.

In TBC's case...I just could see through our exchange of messages that he really doesn't mean to come off the way he does. I don't think. And he came off pretty sympathetic, so I told him I would lay off of him.

(2) A guy named John Cranston. He owns and operates the Office Football website that I have an ad banner for up top. He also is, or has been...a big supporter of mine the past few years...always reading my blog, occasionally sharing his poker stories and asking me for advice on certain poker related issues. John is a super nice guy...and I've only seen him in person a couple times...usually at the Venetian. Well, after one of my posts he sent me a one word reply...'REMOVE.' He gets my blog forwarded via email every time I post. I thought there must have been a mistake. Or some misunderstanding. And after he explained it to me...I think I figured out the deal. He came by to see me at Rio about 10 days ago...with a buddy he wanted to introduce me to, and maybe have a drink. I was short with him apparently, and made him feel like I was blowing him off. I had to rewind my brain to try and recall the situation. Well...if you will all remember...I was in a $275 SNG...with a total of $700 in the last longer...was heads up for the win with a guy who didn't want to chop...and was almost dead even...when he shoved AQ into my AK and ran out a straight on me...and won $3400. That money would have basically turned my whole miserable summer around.

So, coupled with being pissed about losing that SNG...and the huge negative swing to my bankroll, I was just hell bent on getting the FU** out of Rio that night...and I believe that was about the time that John ran into me. Yikes!

I think a lot of you know that when you approach me at events and introduce yourself as a reader of my blog, I try very, very hard to be cordial...that I know how bad it can be if you are a jackass to just ONE person...and they start telling everyone they know that "that guy Monkey is a total jerkoff." Now...if I am coming off of a major 'situation' that I just need to find a place to go and hide...and then run into someone that wants to just say 'HI' or something...well, I'm sorry, but I am human...and sometimes I misfire. And for that...I APOLOGIZE. 100%

To John: I am really sorry pal. Did not mean to cut you off, or make you feel ignored. My bad.

Who else do I owe an apology? mmmm....I think that's it. Maybe that guy I cut off for the last parking space at Rio last night.

Something really awesome almost happened yesterday. I had mentally convinced myself that once Squirrel left...I was going to go on a tear, similar to the one I went on in 2009 after we got married and she went home...when I won TWO Venetian events in the same week.

The day started at the Golden Nugget...in the $230 PLO H/L game. I took a hit right away. Then doubled up...then added more. Their was a lady at our table...heavy, leather-like skin, about 63...wearing a cheezy Jimmy Buffet-looking cowboy hat...that liked to see flops, and turns, and rivers. For any price. I watched her call this guy's flop bet...a huge one....when he flopped middle set, and she merely had a gut shot, with NO low draw...then on the turn he potted it, to which she called again...and got there. We all groaned one of those groans that says "Oh shit...please don't let me be THAT guy!"

Well, guess what? I became that guy. Yeah. I flopped top two, with a good low draw...and a flush draw...and decided to check raise. We were at 150/300. The first guy...who loved to say the word "POT!!!" (hate those tools) said it again...and the bet was 5500...leather face cowboy hate smooth calls, and I re-potted...which constituted an all in. They both call. And all they had was a low draw. She was on a bad draw. His was a bit better. I had the high pretty much locked up...until she goes runner, runner...counterfeits MY low...and makes a fucking wheel...knocking me AND the other guy out. Jeezuz. My time at the Nugget was over.

The good news? It was 3:10pm. And yes...the valet at Nugget is a nightmare. And it was 109 degrees...with no cool place to wait for your car...so I stood in the service hallway...as large carts and racks went flying by. The thought occurred to me to maybe try and get run over by one of them...and land myself a quickie out-of-court settlement that might get me out of the summer-long hole I've dug for myself. Then my car arrived...

Get to Caeser's in time for the BIG O tourney which is Omaha H/L...pot limit...in which you get dealt FIVE cards instead of FOUR. Fun times. $350 buy in. If you bust...you can re-enter for up to four levels. We started with 25k. By the end of one level...I had 42k. Then Jeremy...aka 'Destructo Dealer' arrived. Six hands later...and 4 painful and unbelievable river beats later...I was broke. I was left staggering to the registration counter...feeling like I'd just been in the ring for :47 with the Mike Tyson from 1989. REBUY!

Go to a different table. BOOM! Go on a tear. Notice the guy in the #1 seat...his name is Casey. He had 180k. He was the guy who was at my Final Table in Hammond...when I got 6th. He was the guy who I thought was all in after he 4-bet my raise (me with AA) and I turned over my hand after saying "I call"....whoops...won the hand, but incurred a very painful, and momentum-killing 10 hand penalty for revealing my hand with action pending.

He was raising a lot. I mean...a LOT. Making very loose calls. Getting lucky. Then he got cocky. Trash talking guys he was knocking out. Then...after one altercation...where the other player actually pulled an attempted angle shoot...he proclaims "I don't even care! I'm winning this tourney! You are all going down!"

As soon as I heard that...I knew he was doomed. He was actually real pleasant to me...and we had some nice conversation, but I knew his over confidence was likely going to bite him in the ass. And it did. He went out well out of the money.

166 played. 18 cashed. I pretty much coasted into the money. With 16 left I was close to chipleader with 410k...with the average at 230k...and I was really feeling like the $14k for first was within reach...that this summer was about to finally turn the corner.

CUE THE STANDARD DISASTER: I raise UTG with A-4-3-9. I get called by a guy with A-2-2-10. Flop comes 9-9-2. We like that flop don't we? Um...yeahhhhh...not so much, unless, after getting his 240k in the middle, and needing to hit either another 9...and ace, a four, a three...or any running pair...we brick the turn and the river...immediately plummeting to way below average. I wanted to puke. I had long time buddy Leif Force on my right...who I had been at the same table with for about three hours. And who was rooting for me to make a comeback. I kept folding decent hands to his raises...and finally, I was getting too low, and had to take a shot. He raised, and I shoved all in with KK774...double suited. He had A-2-Q-X-X....I was good on the flop...then he turns a 3 and rivers a 5...making a wheel...and instead of a HUGE, much-needed double up to climb right back into things....I was again slaughtered by another murderous river card.

POW! the punch in the gut! And I was out 13th. For $750 whopping bucks. Which meant I was -$250 for the day. And I think we ALL know how much that sucks.

So what to do next? No one wants to call it a day after that crap, right? Looked around the Ceaser's cash room? Mmmmm...naw, better not. Called Venetian. Nope, SNG-Land is dead over there. Get a text from 'The Prescott'...he's on his way to Rio. Decide to go meet him to play SNG's. I play four of them. I get 3rd place...TWICE. Then a fourth. Annoyance meter booming. In the last one...I get 7 of the friendliest players at my table...and one complete ASSHOLE. From Canada. Who could have possibly led to me getting into trouble...but I kept reminding myself...'Self, its Rio. It's Harrah's. You are back in after 3 years. Ignore him. Ignore him. Bite your tongue. Shhhhhhhhhh'

So I let the other players get onto him. Put on my BOSE...drowned him out...and tried to win the damn sit n go and dig out of my now growing hole. I get three-handed...with him, and a delightful girl from Equador. Ecuador? Anyway...if we busted this guy...we were going to chop it. Didn't happen. I shove on his BB with AJ...he snap calls with 99...and of course...I miss everything...and then get to listen to him gloat and talk more shit, having knocked me out. I hate that guy. And what's weird is that he was friends with this guy named Kaylen...who could NOT have possibly been a nice guy. Made no sense to me, and never will.

Allie and I get into the last one of the night. A $125...with a $200 last longer. I won't bore you. I lost. Then went to play 2/5 while waiting on Allie. He also lost. And while he was losing I was getting my ass handed to me by a tourist who kept announcing that he was on vacation and didn't care if he lost. So when he was raising his $10 straddle to $50...and I was waking up with QQ once...and KK the other time...and re-raising him to $150...with him shoving all in with....ready? J7 the first time...and FOUR NINE offsuit the other time...he was hitting them both...and I was down $1000! After the 4-9 debacle I realized it was time for me to get the HELL OUT OF THERE!

Sometimes poker just makes you want to kill yourself. Or someone else. And since murder is illegal, and suicide voids any life insurance claim for your loved ones...the only thing you are really left with as an option is to sneak off to your hotel, eat an Ambien or five...and just slip off into a land where the boogey man can't get you.

So on a day when everything was supposed to turn around...the hole just got deeper. The emotions more damaged. And now...as I lay here...and think about JUST how much I don't think I can handle being tortured again by old people calling everything to the river...the more I think I will go over to Rio and play the 2pm Deepstacks they have over there.

Okay I think that is enough for today. Wish I had more time to talk about light blue headphones, yellow stupid glasses guy from Switzerland at our table who was the ultimate human-rain-delay SLASH Dwannabe...tanking nearly 1:26 on average on every freaking hand in the Omaha tourney. I was the first to notice of course...then slowly, one by one...the whole table started to go on tilt. Leif Force got to the table...and after about three orbits looks at me, and asks..."Monkey Boy...is this typical for this guy?" Uh...yeah buddy. And then some. Finally I had the pleasure of busting him...and the whole table breathed a deep....holy-shit-now-we-are-going-to-see-at-LEAST- five-more-hands-a-level sigh of relief. This is an epidemic that needs an immediate cure. 14 second folks. FOURTEEN SECONDS! If you can't look at your hand and make some decision in FOURTEEN SECONDS or less...you need to be beaten about the face and body with a sock full of nickels until you learn to speed it the fu** up!!!!! That might just solve this growing issue in poker.

THWACK-POW-THUD-CRACKKKK- KERSNAP-GUHHHH!!!!

MONKEY

Partying like It's.....FRIDAY????

2011-06-21T05:16:00.001-05:00

You be the judge....playa's!

OR:

Yeah....partyin partyin partyin.......FUN! That is what happens when The Squirrel rolls up into this desert outpost. I made a decision for this trip of hers. I was not going to let my 'bad run' in poker affect her visit. Period.

Also, I was able to mentally psyche myself into thinking that maybe I would get lucky like I did in 2009 when she came out to visit, when we got married, and I proceeded to go on a Mega Tear at Venetian. So naturally, after I drop her off at the airport late Wednesday night...I fully expect to go apeshit, no pun intended.

Where to start? Well, not really too much I can say about poker. On Friday I played the nooner at Venetian, which I thought was a $550, but which was a $340. I lost pretty early...with AA of course. Then I went over to Rio to play their 2pm tourney...which was backed up to 4pm...which was then locked to any more players. So while standing in line...I decided I might as well buy into the next day's $1500. I have a very loyal blog reader who was itching to stake me in something with some value...and that sure as hell was a good choice, as 2800+ players showed up.

I let my backer know what was up...and she thought it sounded like a good opportunity...so we went after it. I could NOT have started any better. My table was super soft, I was getting a lot of good cards...bluffing wasn't too difficult. By the end of the first two levels, I had reached my goal of 7500 chips. By the end of Level 4 I was hovering around 13k...which was perfect.

People gripe a little bit about the WSOP only giving 3k chips on the $1k and 4500 chips on the $1500...but I'll be honest...the structure is so good, and the levels so long...that if you are a good, patient SNG-type player...its perfect. If you can manage to control the size of most pots, and pick up a few decent pots along the way...you are able to position yourself to really lean on your table in the Levels 3-5...when a lot of impatience and shoving begin among the short stacks...or what they have convinced themselves are short stacks.

Testimony to that would be that by the end of Level 4 the field had already been whittled down to around 1500...nearly half the field was gone! Which meant the average stack was about 8000. I think that once you get to about 800 players...things really flatten out and it becomes a really good tourney. Of course this only comes from speculation...because my day ended in the middle of Level 5.

This old guy on my left...who was really kind of a bizarre dude, one of those guys who has no idea why he is being asked to put his large denomination chips out front...and who never knows it's his turn to act. Kind of the last guy we want to lose to. Well, it was either really happening or was just my imagination...but every time I would limp, he would raise, if I raised, he would re-raise. He was what my buddy Kai Landry (who by the way has a new HILARIOUS blog just up) calls the chronic leg-humper. My own personal dog in heat.

Well...I get AQh. I raise to 475 (at 100/200 w-25) UTG...to which, oh...I didn't mention this...the guy ALWAYS raised 6 or 7 times the big blind...which is also incredibly annoying. So this time he raises to 1400. Sigh.

I had folded almost all the previous times...but now I was starting to think this guy was just using me as a chip depot...knowing he could just keep snagging one pot after another from me...pushing me off hands whenever he wanted to, so I looked him up. The flop comes...magically...A-10-3...rainbow.

I check...with the full intention of check raising...but he fails to bet. Dammit. The the turn produces a KING. I check again. Now he bets 3000. Huh? None of this is making sense. I decide to flat...to see what he does on the river...or hope for a jack to hit, giving me the nuts. Instead a useless 4 hits the river. I check again. He bets 700. Yeah...700. Whatever, I call. He turns over a set of kings. Jeezuz.

And from there it became one of those scenes from a movie where you keep thinking the good guy is about to triumph over evil...but one villain's ouster just leads to another one taking his place. Calling raises...missing flops. Limping with 44...which I must have gotten about 5 freaking times without winning with once. Nothing was going my way now...and about this time...the 3rd German guy of the day sits down in Seat 8...which served as our table's ejection seat. He had a decent stack...and I am watching him peruse the table and can read his thoughts....

"Ahhhh, a table of shortstacks...seems like a good time and place for me to start pillaging the less fortunate."

So he goes to work...raise, raise, raise, raise, raise, raise......ad nauseum.

So...on a hand I wish I could get a mulligan on...he raises...yet again...when we are at 150/300....to 750. I look down at 88. I am in major need to win a hand...any hand...to regain some momentum. My stack has now dwindled down to 5500. I make the call.

That's when the guy in the BB makes one of the stupidest plays I've ever seen, especially in a event this big. He is sitting on 1300 chips. And he has Q10 offsuit...and he decides to shove all in. Which sucks...because its just enough of a raise to re-open the betting for the German guy.

Why do I think it's one of the stupidest plays I've ever seen? Well...it's pretty clear that neither one of us was going to fold preflop to his massive re-raise of 600'ish, and not only does he have a SHIT hand there, but why not just call the raise and hope for a miraculous flop where he can double or triple up maybe? Just idiotic. And yeah...I'm kind of bitter because the flop came K-K-4...there is a pretty good chance that things would have gone MUCH differently if he hadn't shipped.

And as I am watching the German guy...I know what he's thinking. Getting me out of the hand...like most good players. But as he looks down my way...and asks how many chips I am playing total...I think, or THOUGHT...I saw weakness in him. And I kept thinking back to last week at Venetian, when I had a small stack shove all in...a guy with a stack similar to mine smooth call...and my stupid ass folding 10-10...only to find the other two with 5's and 6's...a hand that would have given me a HUGE stack.

So with that in my mind...and this guy re-raising to 5000...I kept thinking that I probably have the best hand...and if nothing else, if the SB wins with a big hand...I will still make a substantial amount on the hand with a nice side pot.

All of this, of course...went up in smoke...when I shoved all in, he snap called...and turned over QQ. Oh man! Bad read. Bad move. And bad result. With Brian Hepinstall watching over my shoulder...I packed up my stuff..and very disgustedly (in myself mostly) left the playing area.

Brian, on the other hand...who is always on a shoestring budget, and who is one of the nicest guys in the poker world, went over to Venetian and played the $340 yesterday...sends me a text message this morning that he was going back as the chipleader today. Later on I heard back from him that he finished 7th....which I know isn't what he was hoping for, but still...great job to Brian!

Couple that with fellow Tuscaloosan BJ McBrayer winning the 1k at Venetian, and then again cashing in the $1500 event that I bricked...and its been a really solid summer for a lot of my good buddies.

I decided after losing that $1500, that I would take the rest of Squirrel's trip here OFF from poker and just spent time with her.

The management at The Venetian's poker room got Squirrel and I two tickets to see the critically acclaimed show, 'Jersey Boys' at the theater there (Palazzo actually). I simply asked them if they could 'get me some kind of deal' on tickets...and they got them fully comped. Very, very cool of them! Squirrel is really excited to see the show, as am I. Tomorrow is our anniversary, and I am sure that our dinner and show date will be fantastic. Probably spend the day tomorrow at the pool together.

So a quick social recap:

Saturday night: We pick up 'The Claw' from Rio...and go to visit my buddy Smoke at Palms Place...as well as JD, Mr. Jewelry! We went to the lobby, to Rojo Lounge...and met Jason Young and Ben Klier for a cocktail...then it was off to Nove...a really nice restaurant at The Palms that Cheryl's good friend Christina manages. She ended up sitting and eating with us. It was a great dinner...and we had 3 excellent bottles of Pinot Noir. Our servers...Ryan and Alex, were awesome.


The lovely Christina...who gave us the VIP treatment..and later hung out with us. She used to work with Squirrel at the Beau Rivage a few years back.


My boys Smoke and JD...this was the second FUN weekend of the year with these two cats. Last weekend it was a table at 'Surrender' for Smoke's birthday party.


My sexy wife...who never seems to age...and the infamous 'Claw' enjoying the great food at Nove

After that, we went up the back stairwell to the Playboy Club...which I had never been to. It was pretty cool. Nothing outrageous. High limit gambling with girls in Bunny outfits dealing. Great view of the city. Expensive cocktails...which we had a lot of!

After that we called it a night.

Sunday: We all got together and about 1:30 went over to Omar Hickary's kickass condo at the Turnberry...where he had assembled an amazing spread of every kind of BBQ item you could ever want from a picnic. The pool was beautiful, the food and beverages were plentiful...and it was a nice turnout. At some point I was sitting at the table trying to figure out a ballpark number on total career winnings that were seated there: Me, Gabe Costner, The Claw, David 'Lefty' Diaz, Tim 'TK' Miles, Kai Landry, Oren Zweig and Omar....the latter being cash game demons as most of you know.


Diaz...sporting his 'Hangover' baby shirt...and TK fresh off the third or fourth trip to the 'food counter'


The Claw...with her 'Oh So Fabulous' Pool look for the day's posh extravaganza!


The view of the pool at Turnberry, with its two cascading waterfalls and the Las Vegas skyline in the background...really a nice, relaxing (and much needed!) day!


My gorgeous Squirrel...ten years together and two years married. She is my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me. :)

Well, we finally left around 7pm...following Kai and his brand spanking new (previously owned- I think) Toyota FJ Cruiser...which he was very proud of...and which he will be transporting his recently purchased Sahara Casino (now closed) poker table (for $357 at their clearance auction) back to Biloxi on it's roof! Grabbed a change of clothes from my room at the Riviera...home of the now defunct Monkey's Midnight Madness, and was off to Rio to drop off Gabe and Claudia. A quick change and shower later...and we were back on the road...to meet everyone at Hard Rock Casino for a night of partying at the club Vanity.

It was Squirrel, Claudia, Kai, Smoke and Wally...another good poker player from Baton Rouge...who's last name I always forget. Quiet guy...but really cool. He was wearing a ball cap...which cost Charlie a fat tip to get him in. On the way into the casino...driving through the valet lane...this punk valet guy...who was actually about 35, punches my car. Literally PUNCHED my car...claiming I 'almost ran over his foot.' This from a guy who is accustomed to having cars constantly passing through the valet lanes, right? The girls thought our car was hit by another car. The thing is...I completely saw the clown...passing in between cars..and I was going no faster than 10 mph. No...this guy's problem...was that he was just an asshole. So I demanded to see a manager...which resulted in security arriving.

The security guy could not have been any cooler. And it didn't hurt that I had Squirrel and Claw both telling him the same thing I did. I don't know what ended up happening to 'Dean' the valet jerkoff...but I hope he was reprimanded.

We arrive to the club. Minus Gabe...who couldn't be prodded out of his nap. We had reserved the table with a 3 bottle minimum. Now here is where it got fun. And by fun...I mean REALLY irritating. Now this is where the night almost took a bad turn...with everyone thinking I was MAD and upset about the amount of money...when that wasn't the issue at all. I already knew the night was going to get expensive...that wasn't the issue. I collected cash from everyone and gave the girl my credit card. So we were properly informed that there would be a $1500 minimum. Okay...fair enough. With the three bottles we ordered, it still left a balance. Or did it?

Well...here is the slick little trick they pull. The bottles cost $425 for each bottle of Grey Goose we ordered (total $850) and $375 for the bottle of Captain Morgan. On the Goose...she tried to up-sell us to the 'magnum' which is really just a 1.5L bottle. From my days in the liquor business, I knew that a 1.5 is just a 750ml twice (yeah yeah common sense there, I know!). There aren't any clubs that sell bottles as 1 liters. So basically...with the magnum costing $900...they were looking to hook us for another $50 while getting nothing for it in return...other than a big, impressive bottle. No thanks...I will take the two bottles and be charged $50 less, thanks.

So this total should be $1225, right? Guess again. With my bill...comes $64 for 7 bottles of water, $65 for 'carafe' which was god knows what...and then a charge for $421...which I was told was for TAX and TIP. Huh? TAX? Oh...and on top of that...a separate charge...called 'SERVICE CHARGE' of another $48. Which...I never was given a reason for. No...what I was pissed about was that the tax wasn't part of the $1500 minimum. The tip...sure, I could understand that...so we get charged $1500...then leave a tip of $250 or so. But the TAX???? How in the F*** is THAT not part of the total charge? That just put me in an irritated mood, because I felt like we were being taken advantage of. But I know that it wasn't just us...it's everyone who goes in there. I think its pretty damn shady and just shitty. I can't remember if some of the other clubs I frequent like Tao at Venetian pulls that shit or not.


This is last week's Go Go Dancers, performing on a stage in the middle of a pool at Encore...very impressive!

At any rate...Smoke got me out of my mood...and the fun times were on. Having a table in a Vegas club is simply a MUST. You just can't even try to move around in those places without a place to park it. And I really like parking it. One of my favorite things to do in the clubs is to people watch. And...apologies to my super hot wife...watching those Go-Go dancers on the speakers and/or stages...is one of my favorite 'peoples' to watch.


My sweetie with The Kai-ster


Mr. Diaz surprised us with a late appearance! And yes...I am aware of how crappy I look.

It was a great night. It's always a good night when Squirrel and I go out and have a good time...it doesn't happen often enough. And its great to see my good buddies somewhere other than a poker table.

I hope you all had a good weekend. I hope to have some happy poker stories here in the next few weeks.

Monkey

Don't forget...when you are in Las Vegas...always make sure you have the free app downloaded to your phone from my boy Smoke's THE LIST....click here for details....its a MUST HAVE for visitors to Sin City!

NO! I am not DEAD!

2011-06-17T15:25:00.000-05:00

This is what we call a SUPER FAST blog update. Its about Day 22. The wife flew in last night. We have gotten a separate room at Treasure Island. Its pretty nice. I was able to check us in early (before she arrived) yesterday because after this French, Harry Potter look alike who was raising in the noon Venetian tourney about 80% of the time...once again raised (to 700 at 100/200 w-25) and was called by a tool shed from Arizona...I looked down at AA and made it 2300 to go. The Frog folded, but cold, dead eyes from Arizona had no problem calling the tightest guy at the table's raise with KJ. Dealer promptly serves up a K-J-3 flop and Monkey was history.

So yeah...I strolled over in the 328 degree heat and got our room taken care of. Then walked to Fashion Show Mall and did a little shopping. Send my Dad his Father's Day card...the last one he will ever receive while a guest of the State of Washington. Then picked up my lovely wife...and took her to Kaizen for sushi. Then we called it a night.

I had pretty much planned to spend the next five days entertaining her. But then Claudia, her new best friend, decided to show up with Gabe. Which now means they will be spending time together doing girl things during the day...which means I am freed up to go try to make her some money to shop and party with. Today...since it's a $3k PLO at Rio and a $2100 at Venetian...I expect the 2pm $235 at Rio to draw near 800. I will be one of those donkeys.

There is a guy roaming the planet who has a name that sounds like a combination between a bag of beef jerky and a brand of cigarettes. Shortened to TBC...I think its like Tony Big Charles or something. He has a very large, misshaped head. He pulls his pants up to his chest like an old man playing shuffleboard in Boca Raton. And he talks like Elmer Fudd...forgetting that 'S' is a letter in the alphabet. Now, I wouldn't be trashing this clown...were he now so abundantly arrogant, for no apparent reason whatsoever. I was warned about his presence by a loyal blog reader in Texas.

And then...he appeared, right in front of my face at my cash table at Riviera on Monday night...the night Monkey's Midnight Madness died on the operating table due to a lack of interest. Charlie Townsend and I got to witness this freak of nature for about two hours...and it was one of the more humorous things Ive ever been a part of. Charlie has been crank calling the guy for the past three guys.

At one point in the 'experience' he says something like "Well, maybe if you had your own poker blog you would understand what I'm talking about." I looked at Charlie, and just grinned. This guy doesn't exactly have a blog. He has an account on a poker site...and makes blithering posts on a daily basis. He lives on a shoestring budget...currently residing at 4-Queens Hotel after having just vacated Circus Circus after using up his Video Poker-earned comps there.

CLICK HERE to get a peek at this dipshit. If you dig around further you can see what he had to say about me. Please, please, please...watching this interview this guy did with the Geico Caveman...I'm pretty sure they are spoofing him. If not...I need to find a new planet to live on!!!!

HERE were his comments about ME....CLICK HERE!!!!

Okay...I have to hurry up...and get going, or I will be fighting with the wife on her first day here! Don't need that. But I also am sick of all of you texting me and emailing me demanding an update!!! Not sure which is worse!

Two days ago, I had my best day in Vegas so far. After getting 2nd in the nightly...I took a day off. Came back and played the nightly two nights later...and made that Final Table again...finishing 6th...for $850. But that was a tease. I walked over to SNG Land and discovered it was open. And flourishing. Nice!

I enter into a $80 SNG and a $130 SNG at the SAME time...never ran back and forth...but could feel myself running into a conundrum as we got down to 4 in one and 5 in the other. Long story short because I don't have enough time to get into detail...I won them both! Not sure I have ever pulled that feat. I lost the next one after that...5-handed with AK vs. 77 and bricking the flop...but then played one more and won that one too! So it was without a doubt my best day since I got here...and restored a lot of confidence...as well as a shot in the arm to my bankroll.

I bricked the $550 'Position Poker' tourney at Venetian the other day...a very unusual format that mostly just confused everyone. I played that for 8 hours before losing.

Big, huge shout-out to my buddy BJ McBrayer from Tuscaloosa...who played, and WON...the $1k at Venetian yesterday on the 3rd day of the event. Awesome!!!!

Okay...there ya go! Happy Father's Day to all you Dads out there! Probably going to play the $1500 at Rio tomorrow. Bout time I get my feet wet with a big-time event, after bonking the $1000 Rio event two weeks ago.

MONKEY

THE POKER MONKEY...your source for Insanity!

Bad Things Happen In Threes? Pfft. Right!!!

Three Days at a Dogtrack and the Resulting Psychosis of Said Experience

Hmmm...tough tough call today....

William PokerMonkey SoutherDogtrack poker room+ cell phone+ psychotic floor person+ paranoid dealers= most annoying, ridiculous playing experience EVER!

On Tap...'The Dogtrack $700"

BANG BANG....YOU'RE DEAD!!!

This Ship Might be A-Sailin!!!!

Home From Vegas...Winehouse 86'd...Icehouse anyone?

The Road Trip Begins.....

Leaving Las Vegas....

Just a little more time to think....

On to Day Three!!!!

What a Crazy Ride!!! Next Stop: Day 2B

Oh....The Pain....

Finally....A Win!!!!

MONKEY IS MISSING!!!!

Superstitious??? Who!!!??? Me???

"Ahhhh what the Hell, I'm tired...."

Time To Get Hot....

End of The Insanity?

Partying like It's.....FRIDAY????

NO! I am not DEAD!

William PokerMonkey Souther
Dogtrack poker room+ cell phone+ psychotic floor person+ paranoid dealers= most annoying, ridiculous playing experience EVER!