Talking DFW On Thinking Poker Podcast

Los Angeles, CA

 
It's been a while since I've appeared on a poker podcast. Maybe late 2011? Wow, time flies. I'm semi-retired from the poker scene and declined a few opportunities to appear on various poker pods over the last couple of years. Honestly, whenever I was asked to speak about the hot button topic of the day, I politely declined because I really didn't care (about said topic) and/or lacked anything intelligent to say (that I had not already said or written about on Tao of Poker).

Enter the Thinking Poker Podcast.

The hosts (Andrew Brokos and Nate Meyvis) are a little different. It's not your typical poker podcast. I mean, it is in the true sense of the word because the podcast is strategy-based and Andrew 'foucault' Brokos is a well-known online player. But I knew Andrew and Nate were cool about discussing other things aside from poker, like the dark side of Vegas, which was right up my alley.

Shane was actually the first-ever guest on Thinking Poker. He's been on a couple of times actually and told me it would be a fun experience. And he was right. So glad I did it.

I had not met either host of Thinking Poker in real life (although I watched Andrew play online sessions a few times), but despite the fact we never really knew each other, the conversation flowed smoothly. Nate and Andrew are two smart dudes and it's not everyday that I get a chance to discuss David Foster Wallace. So cool that I got to chat a little bit about one of our favorite authors.

Shane mentioned that he thought it was great I got to talk about Vegas a "drug" and the darkside of Vegas. It really fit into the theme of Lost Vegas, which is all about the search for purity in one of the most impure places on Earth.

Listen to my stint on the Thinking Poker Podcast - Episode 76 - Doctor Pauly McGuire. My segment starts around the 32-minute mark.

Or you can download it here.

Rothko Moments [Mad Men]

Los Angeles, CA

During an early episode of Mad Men (middle of Season 2), Bert Cooper purchased a Rothko. He only paid $10,000 for it! In 2014 dollars, that's closer to $75,000, maybe $80,000. Of course, a Rothko of that sort is worth substantially more. A Rothko would fetch a several million today. At least 8 figures. Heck, one Rothko went for $75M at a Sotherby's auction in 2012.

Here's the infamous Rothko scene when a few of the copywriters sneak into their boss's office to take a look at his new painting...


I wrote a couple of things about Mad Men including their drug-related episodes from speed to weed to LSD. Check out...

Speed Men
Pete Campbell's Magical Mystery Tour
Roger in the Sky With Diamonds

Aliens, Y'all

Los Angeles, CA

EXT - ROOFTOP GARDEN - LATE AFTERNOON

Bill Clinton eats his breakfast while glimpsing at porn tumblrs via an iPad. Obama drops a file onto Clinton's breakfast plate.

BILL

What the hell, Barry?

OBAMA

Why didn't you fucking tell me?

BILL

You never asked.

OBAMA

For fuck's sake Bill. Is that... a double dong?

BILL

(Biting down on his knuckles)

Heavenly? Twins too.

OBAMA

Speaking of the heavens, when the fuck were you going to tell me?

BILL

(Resumes eating breakfast and smirking while balancing iPad)

It's not my job. Cheney shoulda filled you in.

OBAMA
You know that smamry fucker Dick. 

BILL

What a jagoff.

OBAMA

Dick doesn't give up anything unless I bring him those cupcakes. 

BILL

I love them cupcakes too. The ones from Beverly Hills.

OBAMA

Sprinkles? That chic joint charges $45 for a cupcake.

BILL

Next time you go, pick up a six-pack for Old Bill.

OBAMA

There's not going to be a next time if this intel is correct.

BILL

(Slowly puts down ipad and sighs)

Barry... you gotta stop listening to those DOOM-tards. 

OBAMA

We're paying Halliburton big bucks to keep tabs on the Greys.

 BILL

You're paying them to tell you spooky ghost stories. 

OBAMA

Look at the projections.

BILL

Don't listen to analysts. It's like little kids sitting around a campfire. Trying to out-do each other by telling the scariest story.

OBAMA

So it's not true?

BILL

Well... it's not as extreme as you think.

OBAMA

The Greys are breeding us for food, Bill. How could you not tell fucking me?

BILL

Hey, what they do is their own business, right? 

OBAMA

Kidnapping American citizens is not part of the deal. That's what New Foundland is for.

BILL

They don't bitch when we use their technology to profit selling phones and flat screens.

OBAMA

Don't you see something morally wr-

BILL

Barry, you're going above your pay grade.

OBAMA

Why do we sit by and let them do whatever they want?

BILL

We all gotta eat.

OBAMA

The Greys are eating humans. We have a moral obligation to the people.

BILL

Barry, enough with the people already. No press here. Just us. 

OBAMA

We have to stop this. It violates the terms of the treaty. The people...

BILL

Fuck the people. I got shit to watch. I got one more day before Ice Queen gets home. I have to finish Game of Thrones. 

OBAMA

How far are you?

BILL

Start of season 3. But I already know about the Red Wedding.

OBAMA

So, Bill... have you ever... ummmm, seen a dragon? 

BILL

Like a real dragon? 

OBAMA

Yeah. Not, one of those albino clones that Putin had.

BILL

Cheney showed me his. Once. Just once.

OBAMA

No fucking way.

BILL

Yeah. Little surly that day. Wasn't pretty sight.

OBAMA

What went down?

BILL

Godzilla blew up a secret service agent. Two staffers too. 

OBAMA

(In Clay Davis voice)

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

BILL

WHOOOOOOOOSH. Gone in a flash.

OBAMA

Jesus Christ. Their families... what did we end up telling them?

BILL

Oh, Barry, stop being so damn sensitive. You're supposed to coast through your second term, not worrying about fantasy tales like dragons and little grey men. 

OBAMA

I'm so out of the loop. Last guy to know. Frustrating.

BILL

Don't worry about it. Relax. You need to smoke more.

OBAMA

Man, you know... I'd like to. But, I got a mountain of shit on my plate. 

BILL
More the reason to get lit.

OBAMA

And you know the fucking press. 

BILL

Fucking jerkoffs.

OBAMA

They had a bug up my ass the last time I let you aboard Air Force One and you hotboxed the bathroom with two interns.

BILL

(Big smile)

Awesome night. Sweet Willy big milestone. Mile High Club numero 1,000.

(Fumbles in jacket, pulls out a joint and lights it)

OBAMA

I'd like to, but you know my old lady. She gets on my case when I smoke. 

BILL

(Makes whipping sound)

OBAMA

She thinks I get lazy and just want to sit around and watch basketball.

BILL

What's the line in the Kentucky game? 

OBAMA

1 and a half. At least it was.

BILL

I love those Kentucky cheerleaders. My. Kind. Of. Honey. You know the saying, "I get older but they stay the same age."

Head Shit

Los Angeles, CA

My uncle was a plumber. He said it was dirty work, hard manual labor, but decent pay in an industry that will never disappear because "people's shit always gets backed up."

You know what type of work you're getting yourself into if you chose the plumbing profession. I spent a summer as a plumber's assistant and I learned first hand that it wasn't pretty. I also learned that pothead plumbers were very resourceful and could turn many parts into smoking devices... pipes, bongs, whatever.

I tried to learn basic plumbing a couple of years ago. I figured I needed a trade to fall back on. The future was grim. If survived a post-apocalypse scenario, then I needed a skill that was necessary to help rebuild. And if the world never blew up, then I still needed to fade technology because the creators of the written word are dinosaurs.

I'm waiting for the day of reckoning when writers are replaced by the machines. Or if the dumbification of American continues (we're in the middle of a controlled demolition of intellect and common fucking sense), then our society will become so fucking illiterate and incapable of original thought that they'll seek out non-cerebral forms of entertainment. Or if the wealth distribution gap continues to grow, that even the few who can read will be so broke that they rather spend what little money they have on something else like food.

**

Think about a lavish meal in one of those snooty eight star eateries or think about your favorite high-end steak joint. So many of us covet that meal, yet a tiny percentage are willing to put in the work or have the necessary skill to make that happen. Everyone wants to take the shortcut, which is why we're now a nation of entitled angleshooters and self-absorbed trolls.

You can't just show up at the restaurant, sit down and have the meal waiting for you. It's not as simple as going to the grocery store or Whole Foods and buying everything there. It doesn't work like that. It takes time. Time to cultivate the ingredients.

And I'm not talking about prepping the meal and cooking it. I'm talking about starting from square one... going out to the slaughterhouse and killing the fucking cow yourself, then butchering it down to find the exact cut of beef you're looking for. Or how about getting on a boat and hauling a fresh catch out of the ocean? Same thing goes every ingredient in the recipe. Grow the damn veggies, harvest them, and bring them into the kitchen. Acquire every spice from the farthest corners of the globe. Milk the cows. Crush the grapes. Wring the chicken's neck with your own hands.

That magnificent meal you dream about? It took years to come together. Do you know how long it takes to fatten up calf? Ever grow your own veggies? Did they last? Or did the critters and bugs destroy your veggies or local wildlife gobble them up for breakfast?

That fancy meal took years to make... and then it's gone in a matter of minutes, and eventually shat out a few hours later.

We've lost sight of how that process really works. Everyone wants the meal, but very few do their own dirty work. But in the end, your culinary pleasure was really the work of hundreds of invisible people who get up at sunrise every day and get their jobs done. Patient toil. Under appreciated. Never thanked.

Enjoy your scallops.

**

I once asked a neuroscientist if he would let his kids play tackle football. He said a quick no, followed up by "I don't even let them ride rollercoasters."

That statement solidified my assertion that being a writer is like riding a rollercoaster. The arduous daily grind seems like harmless fun, yet it is akin to getting knocked in the noggin' one too many times.

Rollercoasters are the core of theme parks and rooted in childhood nostalgia. Fear and adrenaline. A perfect rollercoaster ride is an exhilarating thrill that begins with an anxiety-ridden, creaky, slow ride up to the top before the first terrifying drop, followed by a blur of ups and downs and upside-down swirls. Eventually all that head banging comes at a cost, according to the men and women of science.

Staying on the ride too long will lead to brain damage. I keep telling myself that Bill Hicks mantra about life is really just an amusement park ride, but even something fun can be detrimental to your health if you keep banging on your own coconuts.