|random thoughts and thoroughbred selections|
|"All life is 6-5 against" - Damon Runyon|
Saturday, April 17, 2004
From Various Places in the Archives of CNNSI.com
Mock Draft 1998 by "Dr. Z"
On Randy Moss: "Actually, I'm really sure—that Moss will be a bust—but I'm too polite to say it. I have yet to see him do one tough thing on the field."
Talking about Kevin Dyson to the Bucs: "Trent Dilfer is on the verge of becoming a serious NFL quarterback. He's one receiver away."
From 1999, also "Dr. Z"
"I think Tim Couch will be the most successful QB in the next few years because he'll have the best coaching."
"Detroit hasn't had a quality runner to spell Barry Sanders, but Sedrick Irvin qualifies."
From his mock draft, same topic:"28. PATRIOTS (FROM JETS) / Sedrick Irvin, RB, Michigan State
Kevin Faulk of LSU? Amos Zereoue of West Virginia? Both have been mentioned, but Pats prefer the bigger Irvin (223 pounds) to replace the injured Robert Edwards."
Same draft, a la Peter King
"Draft of the Year: I like what Arizona pulled off, with two starters plucked in the first round (David Boston and L.J. Shelton) and the leading sacker in college football (Wisconsin’s Tom Burke, in Round 3) coming aboard."
"5. I think Cade McNown’s going to be good. Really good."
2000 Draft, Peter King
"New England. J.R. Redmond will be the every-down back by Oct. 1. Not bad for the 76th overall pick."
"Courtney Brown is a draft."
"Shaun Alexander (who went 19th) will be a better pro than Jamal Lewis (fifth), by the way."
"Peter Warrick will be the offensive rookie of the year or my name is Giovanni Carmazzi."
Trev Alberts, same draft
"the biggest no-brainer of the day: Baltimore taking Jamal Lewis. Bob, this is a guy that, no doubt about it, if he goes back to Tennessee for his senior year he isn't going to even start. Travis Henry had effectively beaten this guy out. Now, all of a sudden, he's the fifth pick, simply because he runs a 4.3 40. A horrible pick."
"the running back who is the best running back in this draft fell right into their lap at No. 7, and that's Thomas Jones of Virginia. Here's a guy who does it all. He runs the football with a lot of power, he's got a lot of speed, and the most important thing, he catches the football out of the backfield. I think Arizona had a steal right there at the seventh pick."
Just thought that was fun...
90 minutes @ $1/$2
My variance, however, was through the roof. I started losing immediately and went down (off my original $50 buy-in) to $19. From there, I built it back up (thanks Hammer!) to $86. Finished with $65.
There was quite a stretch where I was getting playable hands, and whether or not I was landing anything, I could bet the rest of the table out of the hand. Lots and lots of bluffing today, but it was profitable.
I did take one pretty bad hit, which is why I'm only +$15 instead of +$30. I had AhKd dealt, and going into the river the board showed KQTh7s. I was one card from a royal, and had three betting and raising into the river. River showed an Td, and I had two pair, but still stayed in capping raises with another guy who had made his straight with an AJ down.
That one hurt.
A little Hammer lesson at the tables... edited for content, but notice after the win what I ended up with on my next hand!
***** Hand History for Game 532577751 *****
1/2 TexasHTGameTable (Limit) - Sat Apr 17 14:23:44 EDT 2004
Table Rub of the Green (Real Money) -- Seat 3 is the button
Total number of players : 10
Seat 1: xxx ( $102.75)
Seat 2: xxx ( $91.75)
Seat 3: xxx ( $62.50)
Seat 4: xxx ( $41.50)
Seat 5: xxx ( $43)
Seat 6: Boygza ( $54.25)
Seat 7: xxx ( $100)
Seat 8: xxx ( $45)
Seat 9: xxx ( $50)
Seat 10: DeucesKicker ( $142.37)
xxx posts small blind (0.50)
xxx posts big blind (1)
** Dealing down cards **
Dealt to Boygza [ 2s, 7d ]
Boygza calls (1)
DeucesKicker raises (2) to 2
Boygza calls (1)
** Dealing Flop ** : [ 2c, Th, Kd ]
DeucesKicker bets (1)
Boygza calls (1)
** Dealing Turn ** : [ 2d ]
DeucesKicker bets (2)
Boygza raises (4) to 4
DeucesKicker calls (2)
** Dealing River ** : [ 6s ]
Boygza bets (2)
DeucesKicker raises (4) to 4
Boygza raises (4) to 6
DeucesKicker calls (2)
** Summary **
Main Pot: $31 | Rake: $1
Board: [ 2c Th Kd 2d 6s ]
Boygza balance $72.25, bet $13, collected $31, net +$18 [ 2s 7d ] [ three of a kind, twos -- Kd,Th,2s,2c,2d ]
DeucesKicker balance $129.37, lost $13 [ Qc Ks ] [ two pairs, kings and twos -- Ks,Kd,Qc,2c,2d ]
***** Hand History for Game 532579630 *****
1/2 TexasHTGameTable (Limit) - Sat Apr 17 14:24:50 EDT 2004
Table Rub of the Green (Real Money) -- Seat 4 is the button
Total number of players : 10
Seat 1: xxx ( $102.75)
Seat 2: xxx ( $91.75)
Seat 3: xxx ( $62.50)
Seat 4: xxx ( $39.50)
Seat 5: xxx ( $42)
Seat 6: Boygza ( $72.25)
Seat 7: xxx ( $100)
Seat 8: xxx ( $42)
Seat 9: xxx ( $50)
Seat 10: DeucesKicker ( $129.37)
xxx posts small blind (0.50)
Boygza posts big blind (1)
** Dealing down cards **
Dealt to Boygza [ 2s, 7h ]
DeucesKicker: why are you plaint that...UNDER THE GUN????
Boygza: go to www.pokergrub.com
Boygza: hammer challenge
DeucesKicker: whats that
Boygza: if you win with the hammer (27o), it's a pride thing
DeucesKicker: shows me how to play 2 7 OFF effectively??
Sexual Moments in Video Game History
Slow to load, but pretty damned amusing.
eBay item 4162363979 (Ends Apr-17-04 02:30:00 PDT) - Seduction Mind Control Hypnosis NLP Speed Hot:
"I learned that women actually want to get super freaky in the bedroom. They want to thrash around like an animal in heat. They want to try new things that they heard about or saw in pornos. Only YOU were not able to bring that part of them out, until now....
Unreal. This ebay item sold for $40. Don't you think that if mind control could actually work in my favor to get me laid that I would have tried that by now?
The part of this that is troubling is the "Age regression is a proven and powerful way to open the non judgemental part of the brain" thing. OK, so the objective is to connect with the inner four-year-old, and fuck her? Isn't this like pedophilia-by-proxy?
That is, assuming, this could work. Good god, what people will believe...
Foot In Mouth?
I said something yesterday that I immediately regretted saying when it came out of my mouth.
Now, we've got a front desk admin at work that happens to be in a wheelchair. I don't have any idea, and haven't asked, the whys, wherefores, and hows, but he's in the chair.
I went up into his area and it reeked of shit. Just reeked.
I said, "wow, smells awful up here."
He kind of (excuse the pun) pooh-poohed it and blamed it on the nearby bathroom.
It didn't dawn on me that maybe it was an embarrassing problem for him. I mean, it could have been the bathroom, but it just as easily could have been him.
I'm really hoping I didn't embarrass the guy.
ESPN.com: WNBA - ESPN.com's mock draft
I'm glad someone's paying attention. Here's my mock draft:
1. Mercury - Diana Taurasi
2. Mystics - Some tall girl from college
3. Sting - A freakishly large Eastern European chick
4. Sun - The one with the man-hands
5. Liberty - One of the lesbians
6. Lynx - Another lesbian
7. Lynx - A six footer whose first name ends in "-emeka"
8. Mercury - One of those bulldog looking chicks who's never been laid
9. Fever - The 6'8" girl whose teammates call her "Marfan"
10. Monarchs - The short chick with the mullet
11. Shock - Some chick so muscular, she's the only woman on the planet who wouldn't be insulted when the press calls her a "wide bodied power forward"
12. Sparks - The one with the porn name (Ebony, Vanessa, Armani, Mercedes, etc)
13. Shock - The twelfth straight player picked who will never be a household name in this joke of a league
Thursday, April 15, 2004
I’m Just Playin…
Last night at rehearsal (with T-minus eight days until opening night) was our first night with any semblance of props. One of the props I have is a “photostatic copy of Mrs. Botrelle’s medical charts.” I was given a top-bound folder with some plain white paper inside.
Well, since we’re still just rehearsing and all…
These are supposed to be medical charts detailing all of the “accidents” Mrs. Botrelle’s abusive bully of a husband has inflicted upon her for four years. So, in order to add that air of realisticalism to the proceedings and such, I took it upon myself to add the dastardly details of Mrs. Botrelle’s conditions on the charts without telling the other actor in the scene.
I did it “stick figure theatre” style. I worked up three pages of art, with each page broken into quarters with a different picture in each quadrant.
I was especially proud of the “skull crushed by anvil,” “pencil through the foot,” “Oops! Lost my thumb!,” and the “pirhanna on my arm.”
She almost completely lost it, but she’s better than I am. I did the rest of the scene choking back a chuckle, which I don’t think was quite right for the character.
I caught one of those spiraling sinking feelings about an hour ago here at work when I found an error that was overlooked in our system that resulted in a delay in issuing a purchase requisition. I thought for sure I’d get one of those “these are the types of little things you can’t miss” speeches from the boss.
Until I figured out it was his fault and not mine.
Bob would be thrilled to know I finally have acquired an iron and ironing board. Apparently, in his world, you can’t just “throw a sweater over it” and ignore the wrinkles in your shirts. Of course, with summer coming up, I couldn’t do that either.
He asked me “how I could live” without an ironing board on his trip over this past weekend.
“Slightly rumpled,” I believe is the appropriate response.
I got my mime hunting permit in the mail last week. Unfortunately, it’s just for catch-and-release hunting, which means I now have to go buy a big invisible box or one of those endlessly tall imaginary ladders.
That’s probably a really bad joke. I know every time some comedian brings up mimes, my brain just clicks right off and tunes out.
I’m freaking starving right now. I had two bagels this morning (bad bagels, West Michigan has terrible delis and even worse bagels – but one garlic and one salt, both toasted with butter), and didn’t feel hungry at Noon, so I didn’t bother eating. I don’t really want to go get a candy bar, as that will ruin my dinner. Maybe I’ll get Clover Bar pizza for pickup on the way home.
Mmmm… Clover Bar pizza. The food of my youth. Thin crust, homemade sauce recipe, and a unique mix of cheeses. If I were to only get one more meal on this planet, I’d get a Clover Bar pizza. Easy.
The only thing is, if I get a pizza tonight, I shouldn’t get another pizza for a couple of days at least. So that kinda ropes me in to not getting a pizza tomorrow. Which narrows my options.
But I do have rehearsal tonight, and don’t tomorrow, which means I could cook (and play poker simultaneously) if I wanted to, which is probably not a bad idea.
I got an email from my hippie friends, Jen and Steve, who decided to procreate. They named their kid Ivan. Right on!
This name works for this kid, and I’ll tell you why. First, Steve has a very Eastern European/Russian last name. Second, both Steve and Jen are big boned. This kid, if genetics pans out in this case, is going to be a Right Tackle. He’ll be huge. You can’t be 5’6” and 110 with size five feet and be named Ivan.
You can, of course, be 5’6” and 110 with size five feet and be living with my unbelievably attractive neighbor. But I think I’ve covered that.
He’s a Maniac…
I decided to spend an hour swimming with the fishies last night.
I saw Chris Halverson online at PartyPoker last night, and thought I’d join him for a few orbits.
He was playing at $.50/$1 though, which is not a limit level I’m used to tackling.
So I played goofball poker, seeing flops with any two suited cards, any two connecting cards, and generally most every face card I was dealt.
You know, it’s kinda fun to do that sort of thing every once in awhile. Chris was just grinding, but I was intent on getting as much variance out of my $25 buy in as possible.
After about an hour, I was only down $1.25, and had to get some sleep. Chris was working two tables for awhile, then down to just ours, all the while slowly but surely increasing his chip stack.
Honestly, I’m not sure how people can play lower limits than $1/$2. Maybe it’s just my preconceived notions about bottom limits, but the quality of play at $.50/$1 isn’t that enjoyable.
For instance, I tagged one of the other players with a comment reading “Any Two Suited.” He saw a flop on one hand after a pre-flop raise that hit Q22. As he’s betting out all the way through the river, I’m thinking to myself “Q2 of hearts.” Sure enough, that’s what he turned over.
It’s wild and unpredictable down there.
I’m not asserting that $1/$2 is somehow a whole lot better, but the pre-flop raising at that level is certainly more significant, and thins the field much more effectively.
I guess it boils down to this: playing a game with a bunch of ATC calling stations, or playing with people with a slightly higher poker IQ. Even though the variance (Q2 in a raised pot, for instance, hitting a monster flop) and chasing at those low levels is a few degrees higher (leading to greater profitability measured in BB for a rock in an ideal circumstance), I think the $1/$2 games (and especially the $2/$4 games) are much easier to figure out. I’d rather not have to assume some idiot is chasing and landing his gutshot on the river after helping me cap raises on every turn of the cards. I’d like to think textbook raising helps the premium hole cards pay off. I kinda like knowing that if I’m raising pre-flop, that the chances of a 34o staying in the pot decreases. I just don’t see that at $.50/$1.
By the way, in a run of cards Grubby would have adored, there was about a twenty minute period where if you were holding THE HAMMER, you would have made a boat, HAMMER PAIRS, or a set on the flop seemingly once every three or four hands. It was ridiculous. The HAMMER FLOPS were hitting the table left and right. Chris and I were astounded.
That being said, even though I wasn’t catching premium hands (although I was playing most of them), I did continue my streak of picking up an inordinate amount of Treys in the pocket.
Does anyone else have a nemesis card or hand like I do? Q3o and 93o are the two hands I seemingly get dealt more than all others combined. I don’t care if it’s online or in the home game, I see far more than my fair share of Treys.
Is there someone I can write a nasty letter of complaint to about that?
Half Man Half Amazing
Couple of quick sports items…
Dontrelle Willis continues to amaze and astound. He’s 2-0, has something like twelve strikeouts so far, hasn’t given up a run, and is 6-6 at the plate with a monster home run last night.
“Monster” doesn’t do it justice. He knocked the ball over the right field wall, stands, and into the parking lot.
Let me repeat that - the pitcher hit a jack so big it cleared the stadium.
The Pistons landed the Bucks in round 1 of the NBA Playoffs. I like this matchup, especially because I think the Bucks really only have one legitimate offensive threat in Michael Redd, and I think Tayshaun Prince is a terrific defender of these slightly smaller guys that like to pull the trigger from outside. Pistons in five, but it’ll be a boring series.
I’m still pleading for the Lions to take Roy Williams or Larry Fitzgerald with the #6 pick, but that’s assuming one of the two, if not both, are still on the board. The NFL schedule for this coming year came out yesterday too, and in an interesting scheduling quirk, aside from the Thanksgiving Day game, every single one of our games has a 1PM Sunday start.
You know where to find me 1230PM-5PM for sixteen Sundays this fall.
Last draft item for the day… A columnist I read recently put it best when asked whether it was important if you were rebuilding to trade out of a top slot (not just the top slot) in order to acquire more picks and therefore hopefully more starting caliber players.
He said that you can build a solid team that way, but it’s those top five caliber talents that help you win championships.
Good god, I hope they don’t trade out of that slot.
One of the vendors recently added to our client’s list just hung me out to dry with my boss. What dicks. The pulled a bullshit move that they knew would only get them slapped on the wrist, then told my boss (when he was slapping) that I told them it’d be alright to do what they did.
Not even motherfucking close.
Let’s see how helpful I am to these guys from here on out.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
I’m an old, old man…
Well, you can add another malady to my laundry list of medical problems.
I just found out that I have psoriasis. In other words, if I don’t use prescription creams and balms for the rest of my natural life, I’ll be peeling off layer after layer of scaly skin until the day I die.
Freaking psoriasis. So, in addition to flat feet and liver problems, put psoriasis on the list of issues I shouldn’t have had to deal with until well into my fifties.
K called last night, which was surprising. We hadn’t really talked in almost two weeks. I haven’t bothered calling her, and she was returning the favor. Turns out that she’s likely to be canned from her job (preschool teacher) because she chose to go see her brother’s graduation ceremony (college) with her family instead of attending a staff meeting.
Now, if she had been “on vacation,” meaning “out of town,” as opposed to “taking a vacation day,” and simply driving two hours south, they would have excused her from the meeting. Instead, she gets put on unpaid suspension.
This is the type of shit that happens when you’ve got nothing but women running a business.
I guarantee you that if there was one lousy man working in that facility (stereotypically gossipy effeminate gay men notwithstanding) to add just a touch of testosterone to the proceedings, crap like this wouldn’t happen.
Chris Rock had a great bit about women in the workplace. You could ask your girl, who works in a department store, how her day was and she’d tell you about “that bitch who’s trying to destroy me.”
This is what women do in the workplace. Without a man around, at least. It always turns into the scratch-and-claw fight between Linda Evans and Joan Collins. Or, for our younger readers, the pool fight between Heather Locklear and Courtney Thorne-Smith from “Melrose Place” (I think it was Courtney, could have been that “Sidney” chick).
I’m all for women owning businesses and creating opportunities for success for other women, but shouldn’t there be a law that puts at least one straight male into every work environment?
So anyway, K called and part of me was irritated because all she wanted to do was vent on the arbitrary suspension she got at work. Yeah, I know, when something like that happens we all get a little tunnel-visioned into what we’re talking about. That being said, I barely got two words in edge-wise, and wasn’t able to steer the conversation away. Then, as is par for the course, she cut the call after about fifteen minutes, saying “I’m going to go sit on the couch and talk to my roommates before I go to bed.”
Nice. Couldn’t come up with a better excuse?
On the plus side, she might be moving to Indianapolis if she loses her job. That probably would be a good thing for her. West Michigan has a way of putting you in a rut.
On a Detroit Lions fan forum, someone posed the following question:
“If you could go back and change one moment from recent Lions history, what moment would that be?”
Interesting… If we’re only talking one moment, and not going back and tossing a blueprint of all the moves for the next four years the GM needs to make into his lap to get to the Super Bowl, I’m popping into the Lions War Room on Draft Day 2002 and letting these guys know that this Portis kid from Miami has to be our top-of-round-two choice.
But it also got me thinking about changing a moment out of my own recent history. Let’s take away the obvious, like “never asking my ex-wife’s hand in marriage,” and “getting out of town when I got my first whiff that something was wrong.”
Keeping it more recent, about a year ago I was leaving work after one of those incredibly stressful yank-your-hair-out sort of days. I was low on gas, and pulled into a service station to fill up. As I’m just finishing up, this attractive brunette walks by on the way out of the store back to her car and just gives me the most heartwarming smile I could have hoped for. Took my day from a “2” to an “8” in an instant. I said, “Hi,” she said, “Hi,” and I got in my car and took off.
No name, no number, no thank-you-for-the-smile.
I really should have told her how much that impressed me, and at least have made an offer to buy her a drink.
That’s the moment for me in the recent past I’d go back and change.
I dropped in on my neighbor yesterday, as some of their mail made it back to my box.
Have I mentioned how astonishingly gorgeous this girl is?
(Yes, I know, every third day in this space since the day I moved in)
She, and sadly, her boyfriend, are really good people too. That’s a shame. I have to actually find little reasons to try to not like this guy. For example, he uses his middle name as his first name because his real first name is “Charles.”
I can hate him for that, right?
Or how about the fact that he’s got exceptionally and curiously small feet for a man?
That’s open season.
Well, the one thing that keeps the playing field level here is that she’s utterly out of my league. Totally and irretrievably out of my league. That means I don’t have to try to “be cool,” and really, I don’t have to hate “Charles,” because he’s actually a pretty cool guy.
It’s a dark, dark day…
If those two crazy Stamos kids can’t make a marriage work, what hope is there for any of the rest of us?
My ex-wife’s brother had a girlfriend who was about one month of non-stop Pilates away from a swimsuit model-caliber body. She had a face that was kind of a cross between Anna Chlumsky from the “My Girl” movies and Rebecca Romijin-Stamos. I remember being in a hot tub with her and my ex’s friend KW, who were both nearly 6’ blondes with enormous racks and both awfully freaking hot. And here’s me with my ex, knowing that in some respects I certainly got the short (and chubby) end of the stick. It was all I could do not to stare at the inner side-boob cleavage staring me right in the face. Both the brother-in-law and the friend’s husband were kind of those short-fuse type big guys, so staring with jaw agape wasn’t really an option.
Not really fair. She also had a couple other hot friends, none of whom I got to see in bikinis like these two. Dammit.
Speaking of attractive women, if you click my link for “100 Things” over to your right, and open up the comments, I got a comment from a chick with a blog from Boston. This is precisely the type of girl over which I would have drooled uncontrollably in college. Artsy, funky, and urban (not referring to her ethnicity, but to where she’s from) are three traits in a woman that I really dig. By the way, if you put 100 guys in a room and asked me to pick out her boyfriend, the guy she has a picture of on her website is precisely the guy I would have guessed. Stupid good looking artsy guys get all the hot and funky artsy women.
By the way, I could say she’s “my type,” but I think if I am going to call a girl “my type,” then she should probably be willing to go out with me in return. I could have gotten that girl in college, maybe, but not now. No way. I’m way too white bread for that. I think my type is probably from Iowa with light brown hair and an appliqué cat on her sweater. That’s the type of woman I know I could get. Anything else is a crapshoot.
You know, while I think that Laetitia Casta is probably the most perfect specimen of the female form on the planet, if I had a Star Trek-style Holodeck and could only load one female form into there for, uh, fun and enjoyment, it’d probably be the body of Aria Giovanni. God bless thick Italian-looking pornstars. Either her or Anna Nicole Smith in her prime. Actually a foursome with those two, myself, and Lisa Nicole Carson from the early days of “Ally McBeal” would be perfection. Yes, I like them thick.
Speaking of women, in this play I’m doing (and currently rehearsing) I have four scenes, most of the time interacting with one other character. Last night she had terrible breath. I’ve been smoking again, so I’ve tried to be more conscious of my breath, even rinsing with mouthwash on my way out the door to rehearsal each night. You see, even though there’s no kissing or anything, I have to get quite close to the other actors onstage. And they, in return, have to get close to me.
Could it hurt to use a toothbrush before you leave the house if you insist on gargling with spoiled milk (at least that’s what it smelled like last night) before rehearsal?
Disclaimer – I’m just having fun, if anyone reads this who shouldn’t be, don’t take it personally, it wasn’t that bad. It’s called hyperbole. You’re a lovely girl, and one night of bad breath is excusable.
Actually, one thing that makes me quite a bit uncomfortable about this play is the close proximity I’m keeping to some of the other actors. I’m a sociophobe. I get uptight and nervous when I’m too close to other people. As a matter of fact, if you take my unnatural fear of ranch dressing and sour cream out of the equation, Dante’s Hell for me might be an endless shuffle around the perimeter of a Blockbuster Video, reviewing the tapes on the wall, with someone about eighteen inches away who is reading the titles as fast as I am, and side-stepping their way around the New Releases wall at the same speed as I am, never more than eighteen inches away from me the whole time. As soon as I hit the H’s, I’m ready to get the hell out of the store I’m that uncomfortable. I’ve almost yelled at people to back off after a couple sections of shelves are passed.
Yeah, yeah, I’m a freak. Actually, the worst environment for me were those crowded house parties in college. Too loud, too dark, too many people, and I’d just need to scoot right the hell on out of there.
So anyway, I’ve got two scenes where I’m so close to the other actor standing face-to-face in front of me that I could probably touch them with my elbow without leaning in.
For a guy with my hang-ups, that’s pretty rough.
I like to keep a good solid distance from other people generally. Especially when we’re talking. There’s no reason someone has to be that close to me unless we’re dating or dancing. Ever.
Hopefully, my uneasiness won’t show. That’s what being a hack actor is all about, getting over yourself and into your character.
Monday night’s take at the $1/$2 tables (+$54) was a sign. An omen.
I’d been drooling over this 5CD box set by Miles Davis called “The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions.” The original album, “A Tribute to Jack Johnson,” was a movie soundtrack put together to accompany the movie about the famous boxer from the 1920s. I’d be really interested to see the movie, as I can’t for my life imagine how the music could possibly fit the time period. It rocks. Hard. Electric guitar and driving drums rock. It’s quite probably the most stripped down energetic music Miles ever made.
And for years when I’d listen to this album I’d find myself thinking, “Man, I wish they’d stay on that groove and play for awhile.” Well, thank god for this box set. The original album is two songs over 45 minutes, but it was put together the same way “Bitches Brew” was, which is basically taking the best parts of a whole bunch of different songs and editing them seamlessly together.
This box set is all those songs, in their entirety, before they took snippets out to edit. Over five discs I get six versions of one song, five of another, four each of two songs, and another half dozen songs at least twice each. In other words, it’s all those grooves I wanted to hear stretched out probably more than 45 minutes in some cases.
I’d been wanting to buy this, but $60 is steep. I did find it for $54 yesterday though, and what do you know, I won $54 on the tables. I cashed it out and bought the damn set.
Now I just have to get over to Best Buy and pick up “Kill Bill” on my way home. Whoo hoo.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
I wrote a couple good solid blog posts today, and tried to email them to myself as usual. Somehow they haven't reached my email at home yet. Grrr...
Update tomorrow methinks...
Monday, April 12, 2004
Happy April Ham Day Weekend
As someone who doesn't celebrate Easter might say, "enjoy the ham."
Just a quickie tonight, hopefully I'll have more time to write tomorrow, as I was struggling to catch up all day at work today.
Saturday was a home game hosted by yours truly. Originally, Bob was supposed to wrangle four or five friends into the game, as they were all home for April Ham Day, but five turned into two, who turned into one when Al half-assed his way to a sixth place finish.
Bob, again, got busted out by M, the other little brother, who he just can't humanly bear the thought of losing to. To be fair, M sucked out trips when he flopped low pair threes against one big overcard which Bob was holding. Bob bet hard pre-flop, and then again on the flop, but M's logic was, "I've seen low pair make sets way too often to get out."
Uh, OK. File that away for future reference.
When we numbered but three at the table, I was dealt KK on consecutive hands. After winning just the blinds on the second deal, I turned my cards over and told M and Ray (Bob's friend) that I had landed them twice consecutively. As the dealer is shuffling, Ray remarks that he's never seen a pocket pair bigger than tens (I don't know about that, but whatever). As the cards are dealing he says, "It'd be nice to get Aces just once." As he's picking up his cards I say, "there they are for you."
He was dealt Aces. Eerie.
I went heads-up with M, who had a 5500-1500 (or so) chip lead on me with $100/$200 blinds. Twenty minutes later my 88 takes out his AJ, when his short stack almost pot committed him with any decent hand pre-flop.
Decimation, the 88 holds, and I win. +$100. Nice.
When I asked M if he thought I was hard to figure out short-handed (I'd like to think I mix it up pretty good), he said that it doesn't take long to figure me out. He thought that if he could hold his own for more than a half an hour, then he thinks the playing field might level.
Of course, I haven't lost heads-up to him yet. As a matter of fact, if I were to guess, my heads-up record in our home game is something like 12-1. I'm pretty sure I haven't lost twice. Of course, sometimes I go home in the first hour too. Life's a bitch.
But not on PartyPoker tonight. Even with StudioGlyphic and Iceyburnz chatting with me for about ten minutes, I managed to rake in +27BB in 30-35 minutes on the $1/$2 tables. I raised pre-flop with anything playable, and hit a lot of hands. Hell, even when I thought I was beat I was best. One hand I had 88 down, and a J and a Q were both on the board, and I thought that if I lost this hand it'd be OK to the bankroll (was way up), and would establish an image of a guy that will ride junk way too far. I got one caller all the way through the river and still somehow took the pot down. That's the type of night I had.
And I'll bury the congrats way down here at the end of the poker post, because I know she'll get annoyed and won't read that far. Congrats to my cousin Rachelle, the Rachel Bilson lookalike, who just landed the incredibly plum summer job of "beer cart girl" at my dad's country club. Must be nice. I'd swap with her for the summer. Hell, she might do better than me this summer if she can stand the flirting with old drunk dudes in plaid pants.
Bill Simmons @ ESPN
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