I'm a horrible blogger....

it's been way too long, and I didn't even go to Vegas with the blogger army this last weekend. In my defense, I'm a pussy and was in Stateline the week before. It was fun but expect no trip report as I was in a bus with way too much booze, and not enough memory of the trip to do it justice.

Although I am not a good blogger (as you know), I actually am an extremely masterful pimp. Keeping this in mind, here's a site you should see:

JimmycampDotcom.

Its an interesting idea for a musician to actually record his own music in it's raw form, forgoing all the bullshit recording studio attitudes, people and methods. This is how the Blues, Country, and even Rock and Roll began. No million dollar studios with 18 year old engineers that think they're smarter than you, no expensive producers who actually ARE smarter than you, or others who make you sound different on record than you do live. ANYWAY.....check out the movie on his site, he tells the story better than I could. Oh...and he's a blogger....so give him some love.

I actually WILL post here a lot sooner next time.

Peace.

Diablo

been a while....

Ok, I know it's been a while, and there STILL is no part 3 of the trip report. I didn't see a lot of hits on the site so I didn't feel like putting myself through that 2 hour ordeal (yes, 2 hours....I'm not exactly Bukowski).

I may do it sometime, but only if I get a few requests. Believe me, that trip will be etched in my mind forever...is a better phrase scarred?? Maybe.

Update: been running a bit better as I am up about $900 for the last 2 trips. Now to put it in perspective, I was one of the five guys who benefitted from the Quad Aces over Aces full of Queens. $520....nice.

No limit is a different story. I played about 2 hours a few weeks ago and I don't think I should play cash game NL anymore. I don't think I want to endure the swings. Believe it or not in 3 out of 4 hands I was beaten by pocket Aces......in a row!!! Flush over straight, then Flush over Flush, then Trip Aces over a set of 9's....oh the humanity. I am proud of the fact that I didn't kill anyone, or even get pissed......no WSOP 21 yr old antics here.....just a bit of class couple of handshakes and off to play some 3/6 Limit where I did well.

Life goes on...lets hope I can get back soon.....until then I'll blog (as usual) whenever the fuck I feel like it......Don't like it?? send a msg and let me know you're reading, or a comment would work and maybe I'll get off my ass.

Diablo

For Peyton...help someone other than yourself today...DO IT

Want to do Something to help someone today??

Read below and click the banner

A Web Site For Peyton

Peyton Novoa is a beautiful little girl who faces an uphill battle in life after the loss of her mother. After reading Peyton's story, we welcome you to read about the April 2006 soccer fundraiser event that paid tribute to Natasha Novoa's life and to her daughter Peyton's future.

Donation Details

All donations will be directed two ways. 70% of funds will be used to ensure Petyon is afforded a bright future The remaining 30% will go towards small cell cancer research at the National Ovarian Cancer Association. Barbara Vanderhyden is a leading ovarian cancer researcher who is willing to start a model system for small cell ovarian cancer that she can distribute to labs across Canada for comparitive studies. This means that YOUR donations will help spearhead a brand new initiative in small cell research.

*******Huge props to all the poker players and people in the poker community for doing something wonderful like this to help a little girl*******

Diablo
(not so evil today) But STILL evil.....don't get any ideas.

Mmmmmm........Bea........

Hot.....

Day 2....Midget leprechauns and Courtney Love......

This is part two of " Vegas 6/ 8-11 1st TR, be gentle...light on Poker content"

Lunch and the Hangover from hell
After regaling the Mrs with my ridiculous phone story, she laughs a bit and is ready for lunch so the Mrs., Myself, and P decide on the Caribe' Cafe as made famous in the Tiltboys stories and several hundred other poker players trip reports. The food was as good as they say I guess, but I'm in no shape to eat, drink Coke, or apparently walk. So, as I stumble out of the cafe, it was good that I met up with some guy friends. Not that the ladies aren't great, but testosterone was needed in the room or I was going to be wearing a skirt within the next 10 minutes(and we don't want that....NO one wants that).

K and D
K and D are old bandmates and still friends from the last few years. K is my degenerate poker friend, since we are not able to visit a casino or card room without calling each other with chip counts, great hands, and beat stories. D is always fun to hang out with and can always be the brunt of jokes if need be (good to have someone else other than me in this role). These boys are in town for a bachelor party and apparently have a suite at the Aladdin/Planet Hollywood. Suite?.....Sweet, we'll be relaxing there and taking a break from the casino soon enough. Of course we haven't informed K&D, but they'll be game. Not a problem..... we're gold, Jerry.

We meet with them at the entrance to the Cafe and what do you know.....beers are in hand. I flinch at seeing a beer and opt for the Gatorade instead. Hydration is key. We have time to kill before we assemble the entire group of about 25 together for widescale domination and we decide to walk the strip towards the Aladdin to meet with K&D's friends and late arrivals into town.

O'Shea's - Midget leprechauns and Courteney Love
The five of us (Diablo, Mrs, P, K & D) roll up the strip heading towards the Aladdin where the boys say they have THE kick ass suite, and we're hijacked at the sight of O'Sheas. I don't know what it is about this place but out of the 50 trips to LV I've made, I've staggered in to this little white trash oasis at least once every trip. This time as we walk through to get out of the sun, we get phone calls wondering where to meet us. We decide that there is no place better than here to just hang, watch the World Cup and kill a bit of time til D, her friend Pam, and T and his girl can catch up.

We wander through the casino and I guess no one wants to feel the love of the dollar craps, dollar roulette or any one of the ten year old slots that they have inside, so we saunter up to the bar and we all get a drink. I didn't want to but after all, this is vegas and I'm not a pussy. Drinks are acquired and we hang just to the side of the bar near the doorway where we are about 10 feet from the street corner and just across from Caesars.

Now I personally don't notice it at first, but there is a MIDGET DRESSED AS A LEPRECHAUN in front of the casino passing out flyers and rockin the Mr. Microphone. Now usually this is a cute novelty to most people, but to myself and our group of degenerates, it's an absolute Home Run. All eyes are on "ML" now and I realize that in the state of this kind of hangover this is a scene straight from Twin Peaks. I don't mean to stare, but are you kidding me?? You can't be a midget in a leprechaun outfit with a Mr. Microphone and expect me not to stare, laugh a bit, and whatever else finds its way to my twisted mind. I didn't do this blatantly as it would be rude, but after a bit everyone else seems to move on from watching ML and all of a sudden I'm in a Midget Leprechaun trance.

It was amazing. He stood passing out flyers for God knows what in the 115 degree heat, and the evil blank stare could have cut through you like a knife. It was like watching a 80 year old carny on the goldfish booth at the midway. The amount of hatred in his eyes was unmeasurable, but as soon as someone asked to take a picture, he popped up with a huge smile (in which you could still see the hate, but huge nevertheless). It occurred to me that he was a lot like a poker player with his game face on and gettin the job done. Beautiful girls getting pictures with his head between their breasts and like a stud he just did his job. Props to you, Midget Leprechaun shill....(sing along to the tune of the"real men of genius" Bud Lite commercial) pass out the propaganda, and don't forget to smile for the pretty girls. Respect to the ML....gettin the job done through the hatred of people in general and pain. I needed to show the brother some love, so I walked up to the guy as we walked away and gave him the fist bump and the mandatory "respect" on the down low of course, didn't want to embarass him (like I could?).

Courteney Love Meets the gang
D finally meets up with us towards the end of the O'Sheas experience, and introduces her friend "Pam" to us. Again, I didn't see this coming but P gave me the elbow and said "oh crap, what's up with D's friend?? See that make up??"

I am always the first one who gets this nudge. Not that I'm slow, I'm just the only one that when someone does something stupid or looks silly is willing to call it out and most times it's quite entertaining to watch. So before D can introduce Pam around I notice that she's completely and utterly shit faced. I don't mean "I'm a bit drunk, I have to go to bed" drunk. I mean "rettihd bwanna getto pusshshhh brrratt!" drunk. Keep in mind that she's been in town for about 2 hours, and part of that was at breakfast, and it's about 2pm at this point. I make sure to introduce myself before D can. I extend my hand which she takes expecting "Hi, I'm Diablo", but instead she gets "Wow....you're really fucking drunk!". Her jaw drops as she laughs heartily, and you can basically hear a pin drop in the group...finally chuckles start flowing as I give her a hug and introduce myself and tell her I'll keep an eye on her (big mistake). She gets introduced around and after a bit of talking and getting comfortable in the group and trying to cut up on me for noticing her being drunk (another big mistake) I bust out the next volley...."what the fuck Pam, did you go to the Courtney Love school of makeup???" Howls everywhere, but She had no idea....it's a womans worst nightmare. Bad lipstick...a curse. It was smeared to the right like something had just come out of her mouth in a rubbing fashion. I call for the Mrs. compact, and she quickly remedies the situation...thank god, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. I give her a hug and make sure she knows I'm just giving her a hard time and I'll keep a watchful eye on her for the next 15-20 minutes as we walk down to the Aladdin. We arrive safely, and then it happens....she's gone. WTF???? It was like losing a little kid in the mall, flash....she's gone. Crap.

The inquisition begins....we look around for about 20 minutes to no avail and finally D gets a call. "D, I'm going back to my hotel. Which hotel is it again???" She is informed that in fact she's staying at the IP. "ohhhh....I'm there already, but can you come and get me?" This goes back and forth for several minutes while the rest of us decide that she in fact is D's friend and we're not spending the next two hours looking for a drunken Courtney Love(she is after all 35, and a big girl). D has a look of sheer frustration on her face, and we ask "what's up?" and the conversation goes a little like this.

D--"P is back at the IP".....
Me--"Good"
D--"No, not good"
Me--"why not?"
D--"well, she IS in her own hotel but she stopped at a bar."
Me--"good for her, hopefully they'll pick up on her being wasted and escort her to her room"
D--"No, that didn't happen"
Me--"What DID happen....there's more????"
D--"Yep. She had a drink and apparently didn't want to ride the elevator because last time it was packed and she has claustrophobia"
Me--"oh shit, and........" (I have a bad feeling where this is going)
D--I don't know....."the phone just cut out and she won't answer"
Me--Dammit....."Do we need to go find her ass???"
D--"no, I'll do it. I brought her in and I'll take care of it."
Me--"that sucks....we can help you find her if you want"
D--"nope, I wouldn't do that to you guys. I should have met with her later and should have known better"
Me--"you sure...I'll look for her ass if you need.....I'm like fucking Matlock, I can find anything."
D--"no, it's cool. You're more like Magellan, you will look for 10 years and not find shit."
Me--"ok, you got me there but at least I'm offering"
D--"nah, you're good."

As we're in the middle of this, everyone else has spread out to the nickel slots and D's phone rings again. We find out that P is in fact safe, but now in a stairway sitting on a step on an unknown floor and unable to get up or out. I can't help but laugh my way into a chair and double up...I mean...A stairway....she can't get up off a stair??? BWWWHAHAHAHA.

I can now see the end of my participation at the end of the tunnel. D chats with her for a while and is confounded. No idea what to do, so she tells us she's going over to find her. "No you're not....we're not losing you for the day because your dumbass friend can't handle her liquor." I have a moment of clarity just then. "Call the IP, tell them what's up. They have cameras in those stairways. They'll find Courtney Foster Brooks and she's home free." Meanwhile P calls her husband in Phoenix as well, completely tilting him and he calls the police. She ends up falling asleep in the stairwell for just over an hour and a half as they all look for her, and finally they escort her to her room unharmed.

Aladdin Slots and the wait

===Tip of the day===
When playing nickel slots with women, if the women fill all the spots in a row of machines and you get stuck with a lame machine I.E.: "magic wand", "Ponies and Kitties", "Cupcakes in the Meadow" "Princess Daisy's dream" (you know what I'm saying....) DON'T DO IT....EVER. This is -EV every time.

As I learn this lesson on the slots, we are waiting for our buddies JG and PR to arrive via '32 coupe through the hot desert sun. They are about an hour away so the ladies start up the nickels...I don't know why, but I'm a sucker for these things. Cartoons that explode, Fish that talk, Monty Python, Austin Powers...I am under the spell.

Finally the boys arrive and we set out to start really drinking.....

Stay tuned for the next installment....Diablo meets the Planet of the Apes suite.....

test

Mmmmm....Toe-y goodness...

Sam the ugliest dog in the world...R.I.P.

2006 World Cup Recap and my own observations (absolute rant)

It's over. I dream about it every day for 3 years and 364 days, and when it's over I feel hungover and empty.

I don't know if I'm satisfied with this WC or not. I'm a bit confused about the whole thing. I had as my favorites (odds set by Caesars day before the start of the Tournament) Brazil and England and the obligatory USA patriot bet.

Brazil 6:5 (Diablo's investment-- $ 30.00)
Lost to a strong and overachieving French team in the Semi's with the match of a lifetime by the Legendary Zidane. Ronaldo never looked to be himself, Ronaldinho completely disappeared, and they missed more chances than they scored. Bright Spot: Robinho/Kaka/Cicinho-These kids are the future of Brazilian football, and unless Ronaldinho stops believing his own streetball style hype provided courtesy of Nike, he will only be a shadow of himself in every WC (If Ronaldinho and Robinho work well together we may see the resurgence of a dynasty much the the Pele/Garrincha era.

England 3:1 (Diablo $ 50.00, British friend of Diablo's $ 20 more)
Lost to Portugal in the Quarters with a sending off of the hot tempered Rooney. (Wayne.....stepping on the nuts of another man is never the solution). The backlash of this WC is Beckham stepping down as Captain of the team, and the demolishing of the hope of all England for the "Golden Generation". Poor Michael Owen....enough said. John Terry, Steven Gerrard and Rio Ferdinand all played well, but Frank Lampard is invisible for 88 minutes a match but then shows his brilliance for the other two minutes to justify his starting role. Owen Hargreaves also justified his selection with a strong showing in a utility role playing 3 different positions in this tournament. Once again, maybe next time.

USA 30:1 (Diablo $ 20....because I AM a Patriot)
Shit, why did I even bother? Oh yeah, because this is my country and I may have bought into the bullshit hype that they really were the 5th best team in the world. Rigggghhhhtt. I could go on and on about this team and probably will.
First of all, Bruce Arena has to be one of the worst coaches I've ever seen. He set up the boys to play defensively since he didn't believe in his strikers, and then what happens?? We don't SCORE!!! Idiot. Bruce....4-5-1 is for European teams who have either a very fast highly skilled striker, or a highly skilled strong striker who can hold the ball up and wait for support.
We have neither. Play two up top and let them run!

A good example of how Arena failed the US team is the Italy match. If you're not aware of what happened, I'll set it up for you.
Italy is the team who WON THE WC. Italy scores first after an evenly battled first 20 mins. The US team looks good before the goal and probably feels sorry for itself for a grand total of 10 seconds before battling back bravely and pressuring the rock solid Italian defense into an own goal. Who cares who scored it.....It's in....Against the mighty Italians...sweet, the US team DIDN'T FOLD!!! I can't begin to tell you how amazing this is....US team showing some balls....Go Sam's army!! By now I'm in full patriot mode, wife and son intelligently vacate the premises, and I flip on the surround sound and crank her up, screaming and cursing like a drunken sailor who hit the lottery.

Italy has a man sent off for elbowing our lone forward in the face and bloodying it after about 30 minutes in the first half(good call, referee). Arena still believes we should be on the defensive because Italy is better than the US even with 10 players. Hmmm....... he may be right, but please have some balls. Bruce, at this point you SCREAM.... YES....SCREAM at your players (who mostly play for Euro teams and should fucking know this as my Sunday pub team does) that you DO NOT FOUL Italy at this point. The Referee WILL send a US player off to make it even for the most marginal cynical foul. So what happens, Mathis barely misses with a 22 yard rocket and on the resulting goal kick, takes the ankles of the Italian from behind with his studs up....Cmon, Clint....you're a professional and an AYSO ref would have made that same call. Now usually, this would have been tough to handle, but on top of it our usually efficient central Defender Eddie Pope decides he wants in on the action. That's right, studs up tackle from behind right before the half. No wonder the world thinks we're idiots. Now we're in trouble...10 Italians v 9 US players. The only way we even get to stay even with this powerhouse is that we need to play absolutely perfectly in the 2nd half. This means that every US player is going to have to work at 150% just to keep the score even. Miracle of miracles then occurs.....The US plays out of it's socks in the second half and earns a draw (1-1).

To turn a long story in to an epic, the players do EVERYTHING humanly possible (even scoring in the 2nd half but then ruled offside as a player lifted his leg to dummy the keeper....correct call, bad player judgement) to get up in this match. The US then made a couple of substitutes and then a couple of mistakes.....first Sub was Demarcus Beasley who is usually very good challenging defenses with quick incisive runs(which is EXACTLY what we needed to rest some of our defenders), but after a couple of runs and the goal that was ruled offside, he completely disappeared only jogging slightly when we needed him most. Then Arena replaces Dempsey with Convey????? Are you kidding me??? I mean, no disrespect, but Convey? Where the hell is Eddie Johnson, the wonderkid who can terrorize defenses with a glance, and run until his lungs fall out.

Apparently in Bruces grand scheme of things he decides the US don't even need to use their 3rd substitute even with 2 different players cramping and most others gasping for breath the last 15 minutes. What a joke. Forget about scoring the winning goal which was possible but unlikely, save a few long balls and cutting runs by Beasley and Donavan, you DO NOT use your last sub???? IDIOT.....ABSOLUTE IDIOT. You F-ING use the sub if only to rest one more player and add a bit more energy to your midfield....blow's my mind how this guy still keeps his job. To add insult to injury, he tells the press that it's not his job to win the world cup, it's his job to get them ready for 2010. WTF?????? Oh.....my....god....where do I start? Hide the carbines, and lock him up before kick the eyes out of him. YOUR JOB IS TO WIN EVERY MATCH YOU PLAY. Scoring ONE GOAL in a world cup tournament is an absolute fucking FAILURE on your part. Drawing with a great team is NOT an accomplishment, it's an achievement and not really an impressive one at that when you look at how this team was coached.

GO AWAY ARENA....The MLS is calling, where mediocrity and planning for the future will keep your job.

I just can't go on.....it's already a rant, and I need a beer and a Valium.....

Congratulations Italy. It was ugly, but no one can take away your victory in the World Cup....Forza D'Ittalia......Gattuso is the MAN.


El Diablo Blanco
(praying for the future of US Soccer)


PS: Zidane.....God Bless him......Legendary player........ bad temperament. Doesn't matter what the defender said to you. You let France down.....A sad ending to an amazing career.

Vegas June 8th-11th..."Did you wash your ass?" Very Long, Comments welcome

Intro::::
Ok, so we're (the lovely Mrs and I) of to Vegas for the wedding of a couple of our closest and coolest friends, with most of our core group of 20 or so friends making the trip. Seperate from the wedding, there is a different bachelor party featuring 3 old bandmates of mine who are also part of the core group.

First day, Thurs 6-8::::
We wake up early (6 am) to take the boy to school and split for the aeropuerto (I will try to make the post as Bi-lingual as possible to help our ESL friends) for a 10 am flight. All goes well and we arrive nice and early with NO traffic to the fabulous Ontario International airport. Now, how Ontario is an "International" airport is beyond me but what the hell, I'll go with it. We get through security with no problems and go to the arrival and departure board. Now, usually the Mrs will handle all responsible duties as I'm a complete knucklehead, but this time I decided to step up. I find "Vegas Gate 4" and we go and get in the front of the line for "A" boarding. Since we were early and the security line is pretty light I can go smoke at will. On my second trip a woman sits next to us in the the chairs and the wife ends up in a conversation with her....fine, I'll go smoke. I light up downstairs and in no more than 2 minutes, I get a call on my cell, "idiot, we're at the wrong gate, I had to move the bags 2 gates down. Did you even look at the board?? Get your ass up here there's people in line....and you suck!" Well she's right, I do suck, but not in a bad man sort of way but in a cute absent minded guy sort of way.

I need to mention what I am wearing not for any other reason than to explain this next part. I am wearing jeans, cons(Converse), and my Brazil Jersey (which some of you may not know is Yellow with green trim). As we board our Southwest flight that we expect will have some amateur flight crew comedians, I hear over the intercom.."Lance......Laaaaannnncceee", I hear laughter including the Mrs, and have NO idea what the hell is going on. Meanwhile it continues...."Laaaaannnccceee......Lance Armstrong?? Cmon Lance, give us a wave!" It's then that it hits me, "shit, the flying whore is talking shit on me?". "Cmon Lance give us a wave". Alright, you want a wave, you got it....the smiling, two handed, flying one finger salute all around.

I settle in the window seat, wife is riding bitch, and older very sweet lady in aisle seat. we get served our drinks and Lance and the Mrs get a beer (with coupon from SW, love it), and Aisle lady (hereto known as "AL") decides on a Tomato juice. Flying whore serves us our drinks and as AL picks up her boozeless drink, she drops it on the tray and down the Mrs's leg....this is NOT good.....you see, the wife is 6'0" tall and beautiful, but also can be flat out fucking evil when crossed (so I hear, wouldn't have much experience with that ;) ) and AL instantly apologizes says "it's ok, no problem" all the while turning to me and in an absolutely satanic tone of voice vents mercilessly. I don't remember spilling the drink on her, but apparently giving me a ration of shit is much better than beating AL until she's bleeding from the eyes....I don't condone that kind of action, but I sure as hell understand it. Luckily the flying whore is intelligent enough to see the incident and instantly brings a couple of towels and some Soda Water (?). For this reason alone I will now call her "Stewardess". The crisis is averted when said soda water solves problem after 20 minutes of scrubbing/bitching/saying it's ok, no problem. She finally chugs the beer, and I know we're home free.

We land, and the argument that is unspoken is finally won when Mrs. checks a bag and it takes 40 minutes for it to come down at McCarran. I hate checking bags....PERIOD.

====Tip of the day====
If you don't absolutely have to check a bag, then DON'T. That is unless you like wrestling with old ladies (I know...it's a fetish) and waiting for at least a half hour.

Still, we're in Vegas, it's all good. Couldn't wipe the smile off my face with a hammer.

We luckbox on our cab driver and he's a great guy, goes directly to the hotel without the usual attempt to take us to Henderson and back before we get to the hotel to jack up the fare, and we tip him 50% of the fare in appreciation. He also gives me a great tip on a british pub to watch the World Cup tomorrow AM.

We check in, drop off the bags in the room, freshen up and go down to the Casino and meet a friend to store her bags in our room. I decide to stay in the casino, get a beer and hang a bit while they go up to do the drop. I set myself down at a nickel cartoon-y slot (I think it was Ka-boom or some shit like that) that has a little excitement for me....things that blow up. I drop a 10 spot in, and enjoy the massive explosions and the $45 it pays after only 15 minutes. I'm up....cash out....set an example for the weekend. I call the Mrs, and she's just coming down and trying to get a beer, so I have at least 5 minutes to luckbox my way through the quickly filling Craps table adjacent to the machine. I drop $40 down, get the chips and after another 15 minutes, I'm up another $65.....WOOOO....seven out?? I'm out. So my first 30 minutes gambling I'm up $110. Not bad, but consistency is the key. Side Note::The Mrs is concerned before the trip that she was going to be a Poker widow, so I was really trying not to push to get to a table. Not a problem, these ladies are a lot of fun when they hit 3rd gear and they're just getting out of first so let's roll.

The girls decide to take a little walk over to the little restaurant bar on the strip in front of Caesars for what I'm told to expect is Pomagranite Margaritas. Woo!! Love pomagranites!!. I mention we should get a cab (since I have a knee that had surgery a year ago), but I'm over-ruled with chants of "Pussy!" "suck it up Sally, we're walking". Damn, these women are rough, I better just do what they say, lol.

After the short walk in the blistering sun we find the restaurant shut down and continue on to the other bar that looks open with misters all around....sweet, I'm in....Margarita's and misters. After slowly drinking my sour watermelon Margarita (no pomagranite, damn)and the worst fucking stomach ache in history, we settle down at some nickel Video poker ( I know, -EV, but I AM with two fun girls with tons of time to kill). No real results here, but at least 2 hours killed before part of the group arrives. -$ 20. F-U Video poker. The Mrs posts a small win here as I recall. The problem in Caesars is that there are very few bathrooms anywhere...underground?? You have to be Kidding me, right in front of where the Celine crowd comes out?? Damn...

Next thing I know the bride sends a text asking about where we're all going to hook up for the evenings events and mentions "I know you Lemons are at Fat Elvis right now". Well no, we're NOT at Fat Elvis. The girls hassled me about this when he was scheduled to go on, but why in the hell would I want to see an Elvii that can't even stand up?? I mean those fuckers are supposed to be in ok shape at least from all the fake Karate that Mike Stone taught them before stealing their wives. So I opted out. This is where the evil comes out, I figure if the girls go see loser fat Elvis, I'm sitting at a NL table before you can say Burnin Love. Win/Win situation sweetheart...it's all good. We continue playing Video Poker.

We end up getting dressed for the night, and meet up with the Bride and Groom in their suite. Damn, it has more Sq footage than my house....lol. After a bit of drinking we continue down to the casino and continue to imbibe and gamble a bit with more drinking than gambling. -$ 60.00 Things are getting fuzzy now....better hit the sports book before it's too late to bet on the Cup. Bet on Brazil, England and of course the U.S. (30-1 seems a bit low with this team, but what the hell)to win. At this point, there are about 10 of us and everyone but me is betting the ponies and doing well, but since Blinky the Mule or Spongebob Horsepants (real mule/Horse) aren't running I'm out. I'll just watch the Red Sox kick the crap out of the Yanks.

All thoughts of moderation were completely out the window at this point and we ended up tearing it up until 4:30 in the morning(thus putting any ideas of watching the opening match of the World Cup at a cool pub just off the strip completely in jeopardy). We get to bed and I tell the lovely Mrs. "make sure I'm up to watch the match, I don't want to miss this" and after a restful 3 hours of sleep, I'm awaken with "HEY....Get up, the match is on". Let's just say that there is no damn way I'm waking up for it....if it was Brazil or England playing then I'm in, but it was Germany and they had been playing boring soccer for 2 years so I'm napping. Ironically, the Mrs (who is NOT a fan by any means, but patiently puts up with me while I do watch) ends up
watching contentedly the entire match nudging me from time to time "oooh, you missed that", "damn, that must have hurt", "wow, what a goal!". Finally I can't take anymore and blurrily watch the last 15 minutes of Germany destroying their opponents. It's no pub match, but hey, I woke up which is a feat in itself. I scamper down into a little comdedy routine that will set the tone for the rest of the trip. You have to understand that this kind of thing is also normal operating procedure for all of us.

Since we have a no smoking room to keep our clothes from stinking, I stagger down to the casino near the shops where I can smoke without bothering anyone, and I call the girls, "D" and "P" to set up lunch. I get no answer on P's cell phone, so I call D and she's already out and about with another friend whos flown in to see her. She tells me that P is probably just getting out of the shower and to try again and we'll hook up later to hang on the strip.

I decide since the cell didn't get answered to use the house phone to catch her, and the operator asks me which room. How I remember the room I don't know but I did, and she asks me the name of the person, I give it to her and it begins to ring. I decide to start the day off in the right way,

Sounds Like P "Hello?"
Me: "wash your ass?"
....silence....
SL P: "excuse me?"
Me: "did you wash your ass!??"
....silence....
SL P: "I think you have the wrong number"
....silence....
Me: "that's fine, but did you wash your ass??"
pause.....click.....

I'm dying to try again, this is like mystery dialing.....

Dial 0, operator room inquiry, riiiiiinnnnnggg.

P: "Hello?"....
Me: "Did you wash your ass??",
P: "yeah, why?"
Me: "I'm the ass police and I needed to make sure"
P: "ok, what are we doing for lunch"
Me: Laughing my ass off......"don't know yet, but I gotta tell you about my last call.....BWAAHAHAH"

and this began Friday Day 2 (to be continued with tales of The Planet of the Apes, and more)

Sirius Satellite Radio Dr. Pauly, and the WSOP

For the best coverage anywhere you have a couple of options:

If you are lucky enough to have Sirius, the fabulous people at Bluff Magazine are going to start a live broadcast from the WSOP with Phil Gordon doing the final table on channel 125.

Check with the site HERE for more information.

And for the second straight year Dr. Pauly is doing commentary and background reports from the WSOP (as well as the ever favorite "pro's I peed next to top 5", "Hooker Bar reports", and the over/under on kissing Isabelle Mercier. This is a MUST read for anyone who loves poker in a Hunter S. Thompson inspired way.

As your lawyer, I advise you to drink heavily.

Diablo

Anyone there??

I have a feeling that no one other than myself reads this. I'd hate to think that I'm just being vain in having a blog, but it's also nice to write once in a while....send me a quick note or comment if you actually read this once in a while or think I should continue to post.

I DO have a nice Vegas trip report to post, but we'll see if I want to spend the time if there's no one there.

Diablo

Soccer, Lamb, and Extreme Violence....and a little poker

Memorial day started off very nicely with a 4-1 victory for us over our friendly but rival team. It was an especially nice win since I now have an old friend playing with us who is an amazing player, but the downside is that we had no substitutes....that means daddy has to run.....a lot. I am still apparently still in a scoring rut. Four shots, 3 saves, 1 bad miss. I have to get on track here as I'm taking WAY too much shite from the boys.

From the match we got to go to the team BBQ at a beautiful house here in So Cal. Think of the Playboy mansion on a smaller scale without the girls. Our host had a great spread laid out for us with libations and great food such as homemade chili and rotisserie(sp?) Lamb.

To round out the day we were invited to watch the UFC matches at my old drummers house which is also very nice. Although I lost a dollar on the fight (can't help but bet the Legend/Dog here), the 16 person poker tourney was just around the corner. Now keep in mind that it had already been a long day for the wife and 8 year old spawn, and they were sleepy before it started. Not too much to comment here except I won the first hand and none thereafter. A nice girl to my right who plainly stated that she really didn't know how to play proved it by beating me in two hands with low pair lower kicker. Now, I know what you're going to say about my play but also keep in mind I'm trying to play fast and very loose to either #1 build a big stack, or #2 bust out and get the warden and spawn home. I didn't mind either way since I was completely dehydrated (had nothing to do with the beer I'm sure...lol) so playing a couple hands blind seemed like a good idea. I won the blinds on the first, but since I had one of my buddies on my left I knew it wouldn't last long. On the second blind hand he had about 1/2 of my stack and pushed on the flop. Now, I know I'm beat here, but have to call for the ETV (expected tilt value) and terror it would cause the rest of the beginners at my table. Of course you know what happened, he hit trips on the flop, pushed and my K8 didn't get help.

Ok, no biggie.....still on track with the great plan....still have a decent amount of chips. Hmmm....think I'll let the spawn play this one....Come here, boy!! Well, here's where it all goes horribly wrong for the first part of my plan. If you're going to let the spawn play, then let him play....did I mention he is eight? I'm UTG+1 and see J5o. Spawn says "play one bet dad". Ok, I limp in and the retards......errrr....players smell blood and buddy bets out 5x bb. Now this can go either way, I know he has the sense to push me off any hand here, but I don't think he's got anything at all. Spawn tells me, "throw it away dad". I, of course being of higher intellect and far superior poker skill decide to show the boy something...."Call". "DAD!!" he snaps...."Quiet boy, I know what I'm doing." Flop comes down and I get low pair no straight or flush draws out there but a Q is there. I check, he bets the pot, and I come over the top all in. He thinks for literally 30 seconds, looks at spawn and calls(I have to quit playing with my buddy, he's starting to get smart....lol). Long story short, Spawn asks me in so many words what the Hell I was thinking? I tell him that it's more important to get Mom home since she is the most important thing to us, and the money comes and goes in poker and we'll get it back when buddy comes over to play next time. Of course, he's 8 and buys this and I'm able to get the family home without having the warden drive which is always a plus. Spawn happy, Warden happy, Me....well, I have beer at home.

Two weeks and counting until Vegas......let me know if any of you will be there. I'd love for you to buy me a beer.

El Diablo Blanco

Constant Junk

Ok, so what the hell is going on. I have to seriously reconsider my game now.

I've spent the past month getting endless roundhouse kicks to my junk. I have dropped 1.7 mil in playchips on sit n go's that I usually will place in the money 80% of the time. I continue to have a good attitude about it, but apparently what everyone says about the play money practice sites may just be correct. I've always used the play chips as a place to practice against loose aggressive types and now I'm concerned that I've become one of them. I've lost 90% of my hands that were the nuts on the flop and turn only to be drawn out on with improbable hands. Now, I know that this is just the way the game works, but this is fucking brutal already. It's starting to make me rethink the WSOP this year. Any advice is appreciated....shit, I'll even beg. The only thing I can think of to do is get reading again.

Then to put an exclamation point on it, I get kicked sqaure in the nuts on Sunday at my soccer game. God hates me......

Scary

The Oscars.....

Who gives a crap??? Apparently not me...I slept through the whole thing. Seems like another example of Hollywood being completely out of touch with the public. I'm pretty sure all we want to see is what they're wearing, and how they interact with each other. Or maybe just the hot chicks....wait...no...instead they ought to broadcast the after-parties....THAT'S when I'd watch....

Punch Yourself.....

Punch Yourself.....NOW....don't be a pussy.

Call Blind??? Yeah, why not....

So, I'm somewhat recovered from my latest adventure in Laughlin, NV.

Since I was most likely overserved and under dealt during much of the stay, there is only one real standout hand to tell you about. We stayed at Harrahs and only played there during this trip.

Now, the table has been tight, but lots of verbal jabbing from a very sassy schoolteacher from the I.E. (Inland Empire for those of you not in SoCal). Apparently many of the 10 players at the table were also at the same table the night before and were yapping at each other all night. I decided to be a bit quiet and just listen and learn a little about them for the first couple of hours, but couldn't do it all night and became involved in some of the talk (I can't help it, I'm a better smartass than a poker player). I bought in for $100 at the 3/6 w/a kill table and like I said this happened after I had won about 3 hands in two hours. The pots were all pretty smallish in the $30 to $40 range, and I was pretty much seen as tight and aggressive at this point. I believe I was UTG +2 here as well, but like I said the memory is hazy from the other events that evening.

I decided to go have smoke just outside the room but in full view of the table and as I walked I asked to be dealt in. A couple of minutes later the Dealer (Victor) looked up and asked what I wanted to do. I yelled out "CALL", and got back into my conversation only for him to ask me again. "CALL AGAIN" I said, and I was now hearing a bit of laughter from the table as I knew I better get my ass back to the table before I called away too many chips on a lark. Since everyone is now giggling about my insanity calling blind I decided to go ahead and make the following announcement...."I'm going to go ahead and play this one blind". More laughter ensues and as you can imagine there are 8 players in this pot for two bets pre-flop. The flop comes KQ7 all hearts and everyone looks at me immediately. "WHAT??? I'm not UTG, look at him instead. I told you I'm not looking!" two bets to call when it gets to me, and so I decided to mess with them a bit and raised them.

Now the table comes alive...."YOU WHAT???", "Raise one more, you guys are finally coming to life and it's worth it". 6 callers but no re-raises and we see the turn....K. Again all eyes on me....and by this time I'm getting a bit nervous with the bets I've put in and decide to announce that I will go ahead and look, and what I see is the most beautiful thing I've seen on a table.....Two Black KINGS!!!! Once again there is two bets when I act and purposely act strong (since they would most likely think the strong means weak tell) and say "Raise!"

Two players drop, and one re raise later I call the capped bet......instantly everyone starts getting a bit noisy, and other tables are gathering araound ours. The smartass teacher asks... "so you got the flush, huh??" I answered that I didn't think I did, but I have a great hand, why else would I raise with it blind on the flop?? Everyone makes the call, but I was hoping the Flush to my right would raise...no such luck. The river was a rag, and by this time the room was humming....but surprisingly NO ONE put me on this hand, they were talking about everything else I could have but not my beautiful cowboys. Again two bets by the time it gets to me, and I pop it again but this time everyone just calls and as the last caller puts his bet out I toss the boys on the table and say, "don't bother showing kids, Daddy has Quads". Huge eruption from the entire room and the huge pot was pushed and I also get the $50 jackpot for one of their jewel hands.

Let's just say there was a LOT of conversation on that hand for the next hour or so, I got pretty much no callers for a while and everyone loosened up and started actually betting their hands.

So mission accomplished, they loosened up and I got the nice boost in chips, and a great memory.....

A great msg I got today, and damn if it isn't a fact!

THOSE BORN BEFORE 1980

According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were kids in the 60's, 70's and early 80's probably shouldn't have survived, because our baby cots were covered with brightly coloured lead-based paint which was promptly chewed and licked. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, or latches on doors or cabinets and it was fine to play with pans.

When we rode our bikes, we wore no helmets, just flip-flops and fluorescent 'spokey dokey's' on our wheels. As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or airbags - riding in the front passenger seat was a treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle and it tasted the same.

We ate chips/fries, stodgy puddings and drank fizzy juice with sugar in it, but we were never overweight because we were always outside playing.

We shared one drink with four friends, from one bottle or can and
no-one actually died from this.

We would spend hours building go-carts out of scraps and then went top speed down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into stinging bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We would leave home in the morning and could play all day, as long as we were back before it got dark. No one was able to reach us and no one minded.

We did not have Playstations or X-Boxes, no video games at all. No 99 channels on TV, no videotape movies, no surround sound, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no DVDs, no Internet chat rooms.

We had friends - we went outside and found them.

We played ball games, and sometimes that ball really hurt!

We fell out of trees, got cut, and broke bones but there were no law suits.

We had full on fist fights but no prosecution followed from other parents.

We played chap-the-door-run-away and were actually terrified of the owners catching us.

We walked to friends' homes. We also, believe it or not, WALKED to school; we didn't rely on mummy or daddy to drive us to school, which was just round the corner.

We made up games with sticks and tennis balls.

We rode bikes in packs of 7 and wore our coats by only the hood, even in winter.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of...They actually sided with the law.

This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever. The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.

>>>>For those born AFTER 1980<<<<

You are all Pussies, or at least the system turned you into a pussy.

Love, Diablo

Finally let loose on the poker room.....

Five words sum up my no limit experience on Friday night: Paddle Ball with my junk.

I didn't know it then, but apparently there is some conspiracy posted on either the internet or local network affiliates to make sure I get kicked in the junk when playing no limit. "Here he comes, shhh...wait for it....wait for it....kick him in the junk!!!!"

Two. Day. Hangover.

Well, it could have easily gone horribly wrong. A day of rest was sorely needed by the whole family the next day. Beer, Tequila, Wine, Champagne......four words that should never be uttered in one night......take it from me.

I have the Poker Jones something fierce right now. Haven't played live in over a month, and online has not been good to me lately. I GOTTA get out to a casino soon. Soccer season starts this weekend, and we're losing a couple of really good guys, so I hope I can pick up the slack before my mates drink themselves silly after losing matches this season. We should do pretty well, but not expecting huge victories.

I'm done writing....now beat it....

Have a good 06

Diablo