I'm swamped with freelance work and other crapola today, including a trip to the dreaded NYC DMV. But at least I get to see my lovely assistant Jessica today for lunch. I hope she's buying. She's got a real job.
Last night I spent several hours purchasing my flights to Europe. I'm booked, baby. First leg: New York City to Amsterdam, where I'll spend two days there and meet up with Briana. Second leg: Amsterdam to Barcelona to cover the opening event on the European Poker Tour. Otis' lovely assistant, Mad, lives in Barcelona and she will be my tour guide out there. Oh, and I get to see Otis too. Crushing.
Then when it's over in order to come home, I have to fly Barcelona to Paris, Paris to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to New York City... all in one day. Then I'll have less than 12 hours before I report to Atlantic City to cover the WPT Borgata Open. It's gonna be a hectic two plus weeks ending with the infamous Bash at the Boathouse.
Happy blog birthday to the Poker Geek. He also posted a hilarious trailer of him and yours truly. If you have seen Wedding Crashers, it's even more funny. Take a peek at our cinematic debut.
Congrats to Joaquin who won a free roll at a club here in NYC. His prize... a $2300 flatscreen TV. You fuckin' rock. The rooster has a big cock today.
Check out Spaceman. He's in Tunica doing live blogging updates of the WSOP circuit event. The Spaceman rules Mississippi.
Lastly, thanks to Wil who dug his new nickname that I blurted out to him while we were in Las Vegas... Hamlet. Here's what he said:
Dr. Pauly and I sat beneath a cloud of smoke that had drifted from the craps table, over the velvet rope, and into the "smoke free" poker area. We drank scotch and talked about cool poker nicknames.Wil rocks. By the way I saw Wil on NBC early on Sunday morning at Casa de Bad Blood. He was talking about being a geek.
"I don't have one," I said, "really." I folded a hand I call "Michael Jackson," which is any Queen with a little kicker.
"They should call you 'Hamlet,'" Pauly said. He flashed me The Hammer and raised.
"Why?" I said.
"Because your kings always get killed."
It was folded around to him, and he folded face up.
"HAMMER!" He shouted. The locals were not amused.
We laughed and laughed, clinked our glasses, and laughed some more. Life was good, we were young, in Vegas, and kicking the shit out of the locals in the 4-8 Hold 'Em game at the Plaza . . .
That's it for now. I'm heading to the Townehouse tonight to play in a tournament. See ya.
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