Monday, March 14, 2005

The Cable Guy, Saturday Poker, Wil Wheaton, and the Ides of March Madness

I had another freelance article published this weekend. It's a player profile on Doyle "Texas Dolly" Brunson. Check it out. I have contributed seven profiles to date. I have good news: the webmaster at offered me a 33% raise per article/profile. That was pretty cool of him to do. It looks like this will be steady work for at least the next two months, possibly more.

I'm expecting to write a few freelance items over the next few days before the March Madness Tournament begins on Thursday and the life and routine I have become accustomed to the last 6 or 7 weeks comes to a screeching halt. I also have to find time to finish editing and then publish the next issue of Truckin'. All the stories are picked for this issue and it looks like it's going to be a strong issue featuring two new writers. Boy Genius, the Bobby Flay of poker bloggers, returns with one of his best submissions!

Once college basketball starts, I don't move for days and I'm fixated on watching the teams I bet on. Anyway, I have a couple of player profiles I'd like to get done ASAP since I'm off to Vegas soon and won't have time to write when I'm out there. Plus when I get back, I'm always inspired by my time in Sin City and bursting with fruit flavor. Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the recycled oxygen. I wanna get all those stories down right away and post my trip reports on my gambling adventures onto my poker blog. If you add the fact that I'm going with Senor this time... then you know I'm going to have my hands full getting all of our late night misadventures down on paper.

Cable Guy?

My mother's cable is fucked up and I had to call Cablevision for her on Friday. That corporation is ruining everything in New York City. They jacked up cable rates. Those asswizards fucked over both the Yankees and Mets. They ruined the Knicks and Rangers franchises... and ran Patrick Ewing out of town Now they are jerking the Jets around and possibly costing NYC, and America for that matter, a bid at the 2012 Olympics. Without a new West Side football stadium (and a suitcase full of Euros, a box of Fidel's favorite cigars, and a 17 year-old hooker with power suction of two industrial strength Hoovers) the snail-eating freaks at the IOC won't even consider the Big Apple for a future Olympic venue. All because one rich guy is being a major pain in the ass. This lunacy is a result of a pissing match between several of the richest men in America, all with severe insecurities problems and attachment issues. Steinbrenner and Dolan went heads up over the YES TV debacle a few years ago. Now Mayor Bloomberg and dipshit Dolan are flapping their dicks in the wind. And yes, we're all getting pissed on.

Maybe I should move to Las Vegas where the politicians are crooked in the Old Wild West kind of way, where they shoot first and ask questions later. Too bad Mayor Bloomberg and the Dolans didn't take out their feud gansta rap style. I'd love to see Dolan's fat ass get taken out in front of a Popeye's.

Back to the cable guy... I waited at my Mom's apartment on a Sunday of all days. It was one of those all-day appointments from 8am to 6pm. Man, that really sucks because you know he's gonna show up at 5:10pm. My Mom is not comfortable being alone with strangers in the apartment. I can't blame her.

After being up late working on a freelance article about Binion's Horseshoe casino and watching Derek play in a poker tournament (story to follow), I woke up early and waited for the cable guy. I couldn't use the imternet because the cable guy was supposed to call to inform us when he'd be stopping by. I fucked up and should have given Cablevision my cell phone. It was too late to get them that info... the work order was already printed up and blah blah blah. Even if I had gotten to them in time, I'm sure those slave-waged employees would have fucked it up anyway. I feel for them. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes and have to say everyday, "Why bust my ass if I'm getting royally fucked over by a rich asshole who paid me jack shit to listen to a bunch of angry New Yorkers bitch and moan when their cable is out."

By 11am, I read three chapters in a book on poker tournament strategy by Dan Harrington, ate a heavily buttered English Muffin, and watched Meet the Press. Condi Rice said "on the record" that she had no intentions on running for President. All week long, poli pundits were banging their drums like acid-crazied neo-hippies at Burning Man. Like bloodthirsty vultures circling over a fresh corpse, they called for a Condi Rice vs. Hillary Clinton matchup for 2008. In some ways I love to see that happen. Condi has spunk and you know Hillary was secretly praying that Bubba died under the knife so she could ride the "grieving widow" theme all the way to the White House.

By Noon, I drank a Snapple Iced Tea and moved onto another book and read a few pages from On Writing Well by William Zissner. The chapter on Interviews was particularly interesting. By 1:30 the cable guy showed up.

Gambling Junkie

On Saturday, I had one of those up and down days at the poker table. I played on Four different websites (with servers and support staff spread out over a half a dozen countries). By the time you woke up on Saturday, I was already in the hole on Party Poker. I made two sketchy plays and lost to a few clowns who got lucky. I definitely felt I was the best player at the table. Instead of walking away and cutting my losses, I held my ground. I fought my way back and finished a few bucks above even! That was a wild run and it was still early in the day.

Saturday afternoon was ugly, like boil-on-your-ass ugly. I played on Check and Raise, a Canadian site, and was outdrawn by a few lucky Canucks. Brutal is a poor description of what happened. Imagine getting kicked in the nuts six times within an hour by a fresh-out-of-rehab Courtney Love. That's what it almost felt like, except you lose money too.

Early evening, I had an awesome run on Full Tilt. I ended up at the same table as a guy who regularly reads my poker blog. Matt even participated in my football pool and took 3rd this year. It's always weird when I'm recognized for being "that poker blogger." It's cool for sure. But sometimes it's just odd. That's why I usually play incognito on other websites. On Full Tilt, my screen name pretty much gives away that it's me. I doubled up my buy-in and my overall loss was cut in half.

Derek signed for a tournament on Poker Stars. The top 200 players won seats into the Qualifier. If you win the Qualifier, then you get a $10,000 seat into this year's World Series of Poker. Well, he outlasted over 1500 players in the first round and won a seat to the Qualifier. There were over 500 players in that event with almost a $50,000 prize pool! The top four places would win seats to the World Series of Poker. Derek ended up coming in 220th place int he biggest tournament he's ever played in. He almost turned $66 into $11,000. When I get back from Vegas, I'm going to try a few of those. While I watched, I played and ended up down $2. Four poker sites in one day. Not too shabby.

Recent Poker Playing Music...
1. Phish
2. Jack Johnson
3. Mavis Staples
4. Wes Montgomery
5. Velvet Underground

Wil's CSI Adventures

Wil Wheaton has a few interesting posts about his recent bit on CSI. I was pretty excited for the guy. He was pumped too and wrote up a few entries about his gig.
"I haven't been this excited to see something I did since the first screening of Stand By Me."
I recommend you read Just a Geek and Dancing Barefoot which shares tales about being a child actor. Man, that gets such a bad rap in Hollyweird. I wonder what Lindsay Lohan will be like in 10 years? Wait... I know... she'll become Tara Reid. So wait, what will Tara Reid become in 10 years? Anna Nicole Smith? What can I say, the rolling hills of Hollyweird are filled with cokehead starlets, boozing with bad boob jobs, botched botox injections, and enough collagen to kill several baby elephants?

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