We at odds ‘til we even motherf*cker

Bonus points if you know where that’s from without Googling it.

Anyway, cracking kneecaps was the topic yesterday, and now I can get into it.

I got a call on my voicemail yesterday from my mom. She sounded distressed, asked me to call her back ASAP. I get her on the line, and she starts talking about getting me off the family auto insurance policy, and making sure she signs the title to my car over to me if she hadn’t already.

My brother and I had used this setup mainly to get auto insurance discounts. That’s basically it.

I knew that this had to be coming from somewhere, so I slowed her down and just asked her what was wrong.

Let me segway back about twelve months or so. My brother and his fiancée took a trip down south in his car on vacation. On their way through Tennessee, they found themselves on a mountain road when the weather turned on them in an instant. The fiancée was driving, and lost control of the car, sending it pinballing between guard rails, a truck, and another car before coming to a stop.

The car was totaled. So was the other car. Thankfully, there was no one hurt, beyond maybe my brother aggravating some back problems from which his weight and frame don’t help him bounce back easily.

Got this so far? The fiancée driving my brother’s car, on which my brother has his insurance co-signed by my mom gets in a nasty wreck.

On a vacation day from work yesterday, my mom gets a knock on her door at about 9AM. It’s a messenger, serving her with papers, suing her for over $200k for damages, both emotional and physical, and lost work by the driver of the other car.

The same driver who, by my brother’s recollection, hurdled a four foot tall guard wall between highway directions after the accident to hop in the car picking him up from the scene of the accident.

So, on the phone with my mom, completely unaware in regards to the direction from which this was coming, I slowed her down and asked her what was wrong.

She started bawling and choked her way through the tears to say, “I don’t want to lose my house.”

No one makes my mommy cry.

With my brother and his fiancée walking down the aisle in about five weeks, my mom asked me not to tell him what was going on, as this was a looming storm cloud she didn’t really need with wedding worries on her plate already.

But she got served yesterday as well.

Now, yes, we all understand this is a ploy to garner a settlement from the insurance company. But it’s still an incredibly shitty thing to do to my family, especially when we all know this accident didn’t result in anything but frazzled nerves, major inconvenience for a week of car rentals, and having to pay a deductible.

Lost work and emotional distress my ass.

The odds are overwhelmingly in my mom’s (and my brother’s fiancée’s) favor that the only real damage done to my family financially are some legal fees and an increased insurance rate. But there is that slim chance that something terrible does come of this, and they end up on the hook for the $200k in the end. Not likely, but the possibility exists.

I have an open proposition to the asshole pulling this scam in the Tennessee courts: You let me take four little swings at you, and I’ll let you sue the Louisville Slugger people for damages. I bet they have deep pockets.

Blowin’ like Shalimar in ‘81

-$11 and +$39, but I didn’t really deserve the -$11.

Well, maybe I did.

Those two figures represent my Monday and Tuesday night final tallies at the PartyPoker tables, and both come with a pretty decent story behind them.

Monday: I’m a grinder. Well, at least that’s what I’m telling myself tonight. About 7PM I log in to a 25NL table and start to bide my time, waiting for the monsters that will help me do some serious damage to those around me. I get my first nice sized pot swept to me when I see a short stack’s all-in preflop with JT for something like $7. I had JT suited, and he has Aces. 67Q on the flop, and then I go runner-runner with the 89 to put him away.

I’m geeked, I’ve got to tell someone, and The Blogfather just so happens to be online. “Hey ya Igs, you want to hear a good suckout story that features yours truly on the receiving end?”

Iggy started lurking my table, which also featured blogstalker (just kidding kiddo) Daddy providing a guest appearance on my table for the second night in a row. I’m either on his list because he enjoys my writing, or because he’s tagged me in PokerTracker. I’m hoping it’s the former. Soon enough, and surprisingly enough, Iggy grabbed the seat immediately to my right when it opened, and we had a veritable blogger triumvirate going on.

At the time Iggy grabbed a seat, I was actually sitting with $78 in my stack, having effectively tripled my buy-in. I was feeling REALLY good.

So, with three of us to the table, and two more of the support group (Scott and Hank) joining Iggy and I in the IM chat, I continued to bide my time at the table, taking a few hits when I missed the board with good cards, bringing me down to about $60.

1030PM hits, and I’m looking at 99 in the hole from middle position. Openers fold to Iggy, who makes it $2 to go. Immediately to his left, I raise to $3.50.

I taunted him in the IM chat we had on the side, “You like that?” Apparently, he did. It folded back around to him, and he typed “Wanna gamble?” in the IM box before pushing $35 into the middle.

All-in.

Do not taunt the BG. Of course I’m a gambler. I was a grinder and a poker player for three and a half hours. Now, I’m a gambler.

I push ‘em in.

99 versus his AQs. He caught his Ace, and that was that. In one fell swoop, all my profits for the evening went down the drain.

Iggy was apologetic in chat. He didn’t think I’d make the call, but sometimes it’s just more fun to make it than to not to. He almost went so far as to offer me my money back, but I wasn’t about to let him do that. If I had taken his cash, I would have done so with glee. This is, after all, gambling.

And if I’m going to lose to someone, I’d prefer it be someone who I know anyway.

Except Daddy. I think he’s stalking me.

Tuesday: I avoided logging in to PartyPoker early in the evening, as I didn’t much feel like three hours of folding bookending two or three hands of excitement. At about 10PM then, I hopped into bed with my laptop, killed the lights, and pulled up a $10SNG. With the loss I took yesterday, I really wanted to make the money, if not win the whole damn thing.

I played the role of “tight-ass rock” for the first few orbits of the game, playing exactly zero hands of the first 20 or so. To be fair, I did try to limp from the SB with the hammer, but was raised off of it by the BB. Asshole, he cost me a 77T flop on that one.

The obvious tight play I was exhibiting bought me some equity when I actually did catch a couple of hands, although I didn’t catch the nuts. I made a play at the pot from the button with a middle pair, and made another with four to the nut straight off the flop a couple of hands later where everyone folded.

Sitting with 850 or so with about eight players left, I found QQ in the SB. I had been effectively raised off of the blinds all game long so far, so I was praying someone would come in strong (blinds 25/50 at this point) to try to sweep. Sure enough, a loose-aggressive guy in MP brought it in for 400. Surprisingly, there was a short-stack (600 or so) caller, and I went over the top, hoping to isolate with the short-stack, moving all-in.

Both called, both had KJo, and both caught exactly nothing. With that hand, I nearly tripled up to 2500 or so, and was now swinging the big stick.

It wasn’t another full orbit until we were brought down to five handed, but with a couple of shorter stacks on the table, I continued to play tight until we could get rid of at least one more. I wanted the money, and I was hoping there’d be another three-way action pot that bounced two to bring me closer.

Well, one more did bounce out, and we were down to four.

This is where the fun started. Pauly as my witness, I was hit square in the face with the deck, and took full advantage.

I don’t have the hand history right in front of me, but I know that we went from four-handed, with no player under 1000, to my victory dance in exactly 11 hands.

And I didn’t win all of them. But I did go all-in nine out of eleven times to close it out, marking the most incredible run of shorthanded cards I’ve ever had concentrated in such a short span. Funny thing was, I didn’t even win all of the all-ins either. But every one was contested by another, and winning (something like) seven of the nine was good enough for the victory.

Just before moving all-in heads-up on the decisive hand, I typed in chat “the deck is CLOBBERING ME,” and it absolutely was.

So, +$39.

Iggy, don’t feel so bad about taking my cash on Monday. I got it back.

Am I a clown to you?

I feel like going all Joe Pesci on some people today. Nothing I can get into, at least not yet, but I can guarantee you that if life had no consequences, there’d be some crying ass people bawling over their broken fucking kneecaps right about now.

I’m not a violent guy, really. But some things just piss me off so bad that it brings out my mean streak. Of course, by “mean streak,” we’re really referring to my propensity to belittle the intellect of my target, and rile up their anger as a result. I’ve really only beat up one person ever, and he was three years younger and deserved it.

Still, pretty satisfying.

I’ll talk about this when I can, I just can’t right now. But it’s effed up, and it makes me wish my Italian uncles were of the track suit wearing variety, not the Wolverine work boot type.

I will tell you one thing that’s exacerbating the problem though. Over the cube wall behind me, the woman working there is wearing way too much perfume. I am getting seriously lightheaded. It’s been this way all day, and I don’t think there’s a tactful solution to the problem.

Baggage Claim

ESPN Radio’s “The Herd,” which I was listening to out to lunch today, had an interesting topic of conversation.

How much baggage is too much baggage?

The point the host was trying to make was that a guy like Bill Parcells can handle Keyshawn Johnson’s baggage because he’s worth the risk. Darrell Russell and his drug suspensions, no. This got tied over to, of course, hot girls. How much baggage for a hot girl is too much to deal with? I’m absolutely not talking about a lost weekend in a villa in Jamaica. What I’m referring to is marriage. When a woman’s problems become your problems. How much are you willing to deal with for a nice house and a famous piece of tail?

Unsurprisingly, I have a scale for this very purpose. From 0.0 (no problems whatsoever, a walk in the park) to 10.0 (would drive you to jump off a very tall building when the novelty of banging a celebrity wears off), here are some famous women, their problems, and the likelihood I’d want to marry them:

Angelina Jolie - One of the women they used as an example on the show, Angelina definitely has her issues. The tattoos, the blood-in-the-vial thing, the kissing of the brother, she’s a little messed up. That being said, she’s ridiculously sexy, seems to have a streak of being a good human being in her (with the refugee kids and all), and I would bet she’s not just going to lay there in bed. Problems? Absolutely. I just think they don’t tip the scale that far out of her favor. 3.7, and yes I’d marry her.

Tara Reid - The current embodiment of party girl sorority chick, she’s got Lizzie Grubman as a friend, and a dog named Stoli. She’s the type of girl that even if you got her to swear on a stack of bibles she’d stay eternally faithful, you’d always wonder what she was doing on girls’ night out at the bar. She also doesn’t exactly come across as Marilyn vos Savant, not that Marilyn vS is that attractive either. 2.8, mainly due to naming her dog after a liquor, and yes, I’d marry her.

Pam Anderson - Here’s another one of their examples from the show. Now, excusing the fact that she’s almost 40, if not over, and most certainly past her prime, look at the rest of the picture. First, she’s as plastic a woman as you can possibly find. Second, she’s got Hepatitis. Third, there’s not a straight man in the country that hasn’t seen her naked. Fourth, she’s strange. PETA and Tommy Lee strange. Let me be honest here for a minute. Even if a woman was nearly perfect in every other way, I don’t think I’m going anywhere Tommy Lee’s been before. I’m not winning any contests at the State Fair, let’s put it that way. Maybe it’s my problem, but I’m putting it on her. 7.4 – no way I’m marrying her.

Courtney Love - Deserves her own sliding scale, say from 0.0 to Apple, whatever that means. Still, she cleans up well (when she’s clean – I thought she was attractive in the Andy Kaufman movie), and I don’t know if she’s weirder than Anne Heche or not. Really. 9.2 – not a chance

Jennifer Lopez - Another nominee for consideration from “The Herd.” Rumor has it she and her entourage took a limo for a half block trip between luxury hotels. I believe it. Looks-wise, if she’s the girl running the register at the drugstore, she’s totally my type. But add the fancy clothes, the hundred man-servants at her beck and call, and her propensity to run through guys like we’re disposable, and I’m not buying into it. Not even for a three year / half her estate sort of deal. The “Enquirer” would fillet me on a weekly basis anyway: JENNY’S AVERAGE JOE! 6.6 – it’s not happening.

Mariah Carey - I don’t really know if her problems are that she’s dumb, she’s been used, she’s dumb and has been used, or some combination of the three. This is a woman that’s crying out for help. Seriously. She needs a steadying, grounding influence in her life. I don’t really think she has that many true problems, but one thing that would irk me to no end is when she calls her fans “lambs.” As far as women with problems go, she’s not doing that badly all things considered. 2.6 – absolutely would marry the woman.

Paris Hilton - Sex tape? Check. Warped perspective on life? Check. General disregard for the feelings of the common folk? Check. Hot body? Check, and check. As attractive as the “little girl lost” thing might be, I tend to think that no one could be more than an accessory to this girl, like a Prada handbag or a Gucci coat. Plus, doesn’t she carry the stigma – whether right or wrong – that she’s been used? No one likes to touch a dirty Kleenex. 4.7 – would really have to think about it.

Some Pop Culture Thoughts…

>> I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Reality TV is dumb and getting dumber. I’m really annoyed with the obviousness of the promos for the “Growing Up Gotti” show in particular, with the mom yelling at her kids, “If you got a problem with me, go tell your uncle.” Meaning, of course, mob boss John Gotti. If that’s not essentially just preening for the camera on her part, I don’t know what is. Do we really need cameras following people around like this instead of putting some effort into scripted comedies on TV?

>> Here’s something I’m now willing to admit. I haven’t watched more than five consecutive minutes of the Ashlee Simpson show on MTV, but I can tell you that if her and her sister were real people and not celebrities, I’d (of course) have the crush on Jessica initially, but could really get into Ashlee. She’s more interesting, even if the TV Jessica’s vapidity is overstated tremendously by intention.

>> Eric Bana is the new Bond, and if I were in charge of the franchise, I’d make Bond a little less smooth, and a little more like Jason Bourne. Reduce the gadgetry (never gonna happen) and focus on the physical mechanics of being an invisible uber-spy. Bana is just rough enough around the edges (compared to every other Bond they’ve trotted out) to make something like this work. Of course, they’re going to deliver what people expect, so it’s going to be same old, same old for this franchise. Never was a Bond fan.

>> That new Brittany Murphy movie where she goes through Ron Livingston’s PalmPilot to discover what happened with previous girlfriends is a terrible, terrible concept. The idea that “if you want to keep your man, find out what happened with his exes” is ridiculous. There are two movies that popped to mind when I first saw this preview. “High Fidelity,” of course, and Albert Brooks’ “Mother.” In both of these movies, the main characters had their neuroses and failures, and dove in to root cause why they happened by revisiting their past. In this probable piece of pandering tripe, of course the woman couldn’t possibly be the one with the personal problems. She absolutely must know everything about her man before they take the big leap. Sounds like neurotic trust issues to me. Put the PalmPilot down and see a fucking shrink, you obviously aren’t ready to have a face-value relationship. Of course, this movie simply caters to that 85% of the female population that look at every fucking relationship as a “fixer-upper.” I’m having a hard time thinking of a movie right now that I could equivocate with “High Fidelity.” It’s never the girl’s fault, oh no. Paint that rosy picture of romance all you want Hollywood, you’re just succeeding in increasing future divorce rates by chopping the male populace off at the knees before we even get into these relationships. No man is capable of delivering that sucrose-sweet bullshit happiness like Cusack in “Serendipity” or Gere in “Runaway Bride.” Women of America, put down your monthly “Cosmo” and trade in your lofty expectations for a willingness to work as a partner in a relationship, and we’ll all be better off.

Whew.

>> I met someone in the course of business named “Elvira” the other day. There’s only one excuse for naming your child “Elvira,” and that’s being an Oak Ridge Boy. Otherwise, you’ve got to realize people are always going to think of an enormously big breasted vampire whenever they hear your child’s name. I’m also confused by all the parents naming their daughters “Jenna” nowadays. Don’t they realize that Jenna Jameson has effectively spoiled that name for every other Jenna on the planet? Maybe that’s not as bad as giving your child a full-fledged stripper name though. I’m thinking of every child named after a car (Lexus, Mercedes), anything expensive (Diamond, Jewel), or just going with the old standby “Tiffany.” What sort of career options, besides bikini lap dancing in a rap video, does a child named “Lexus” have anyway?

>> I know I shouldn’t be one to talk, being about thirty pounds overweight, but I giggle when I see what a fat ass Robert Smith of the Cure has become. I guess all that depression leads to a few more Krispy Kremes than your metabolism can handle, eh? Do this dude and his band qualify as “emo?” I’m not really sure what “emo” is exactly, all I know is that I’m annoyed by it. I think those guys from “Good Charlotte” are “emo,” and I think that all those kids who dye their hair and get a weird piercing are “emo” too. I’m not “emo.” I’m pretty sure what “emo” is, is some sort of cop-out style where if you’re unsure what to do with your fashion, you just get a pair of horn rimmed glasses, dye your hair shocking purple, and wear a kilt. Something like that. I’m so out of touch…

>> There’s a headline on Google News this morning (thankfully, on the “Entertainment” tab) that states that the Prime Minister of Japan has called the Michael Moore movie, “politically biased.” He’s also gone on record to state that the sky is “unequivocally blue,” and that “water, while necessary in nature, could possibly get one wet.” Thanks for the report “Japan Today.”

300 hands

Taking the advice of a savvy veteran, I decided to try my hand this weekend at the $25NL tables on PartyPoker, with a newfound respect for position and hand strength.

In other words, my hole cards were really going to have to knock my socks off to play them from EP or MP, and they’d have to be pretty damn good to play them from late.

300 hands later, I’m down $19. Why?

Well, how many times can a man get dealt garbage in three hours? Really, I want to know. I think whatever record was in place before my run the past two days was shattered by my horrible hole cards.

So how does one lose $19? $2 here with ATs, catching nothing on the flop. $2 there with AJo, again catching nothing. $4 with KQs, hitting three to the flush, four to the straight on the flop and catching nothing else. Every pot I raked personally was small, as I would catch big enough that there was nothing left for anyone else.

It was depressing.

But, on the bright side, I can definitely see how these games, in the words of my esteemed colleague who steered me here, can be an ATM for a disciplined player. The level of play is atrocious. These guys are swinging sledgehammers around to kill a gnat. Here’s one play that sticks out in my mind that made my jaw hit the floor:

I’m in LP with 99, feeling pretty good about seeing a cheap flop. Five of us come into a raised pot for $1. On the button, dude clicks ALL-IN for $24. Now I’m not feeling so good about 99. One caller before it gets back to me, and I fold.

MP had AQo, Button had KQs.

The AJT rainbow flop sealed the deal for the button.

No way in hell I’m mixing it up for $25 on 99, and I was debating whether or not that was a legit steal technique by the button, but his play continued to be questionable (seeing a $2 raise with just about anything) all game long.

This is the competition there. They’re so excited to have paint, the all-in button beckons. Any Ace on an unraised pot, limping with as much as possible, but not hesitating to shrug off marginal pre-flop raises as “just another dollar or two.”

There’s money to be made here, you’ve just got to know what you’re waiting for. Here’s another good example of the quality of play here, with a bad laydown by me that seemed sensible at the time:

I’m in LP with A5s, and manage to limp in with four others. Flop comes AQK. Someone in EP makes it a dollar to go, and all but one of us call (four left). Second Queen on the turn. EP makes it $3 (about ½ pot size or so), and two call before me. Someone has to have the Queen, right? I fold. River is a blank. One player goes in for $5, another calls, last guy folds.

Any guesses as to what happened?

Both flipped over King-small, neither suited, and split the pot with KKQQA. I had the best hand, and I folded.

Part of my problem with these games right now is not having played them enough to get the nuance of a hand like that. Can you figure someone is playing a garbage middle pair to the river if there’s three showing down? Yeah, probably. But if the board pairs paint? Isn’t that usually a good enough warning sign?

I’ve got a lot of learning to do on this one, but I can see why these are the tables of preference. There’s a lot of money to be made here when you get the cards.

Although I Said I Wasn’t Going To…

I had a post written last week about my extended family that I scrapped, as I didn’t really think it was in good taste to rip on my aunts, uncles, and cousins the way I did. Although I’m disconnected from the vast majority of these people, they’re still family.

The one thing I will bring up is the dynamic between my cousin (the “Summer from the OC” clone) and her dad. I bring it up because it’s shitty what she has to deal with, but despite the crap she’s given, she is a surprisingly well-adjusted kid.

I mentioned a couple of things this uncle of mine has done, such as giving her access to one dryer cycle a week, and only allowing her to iron her clothes on Tuesdays. Things I didn’t mention include not supporting her in college at all, even though he’s able to help a bit (she asked for $10/week, not exactly breaking the bank), and not calling her at school to see how she’s doing.

This past week, though, was especially shitty.

He and his wife bought an RV last week. They bought the RV from a dealership 15 minutes from my town, which is where my cousin has been spending the summer. They were given the opportunity to “test-camp” in the RV for an entire week fifteen minutes from their daughter, and didn’t bother to tell her they were coming, didn’t bother to call her while they were here, and disappeared without making an effort to see her.

They did make time to see my dad. Just not my cousin.

What this girl has had to deal with is unbelievable. How a father can be so indifferent to his daughter, who’s a really good kid at that, is baffling to me. How he can’t just a little bit want the best for her and support her even 1% of the way is confusing. $10 a week and a monthly phone call apparently is just too goddamn much trouble.

I don’t get it at all.

BG’s NFL Preview

Sean did this already, so rather than duplicate his efforts, I’m going to trot out the old “Seven Words” technique for my capsule previews of each team. I’m also going to take a shot at guessing at their record, but don’t bother doing the math – it’s not going to work out to 256-256.

AFC East

Miami Dolphins – Fiedler safer in yarmulke than in helmet – 5-11
NY Jets – Anywhere but NY media, Pennington just average – 7-9
Buffalo – Could surprise if Bledsoe-Moulds combo produces – 9-7
New England – Can hurt you in so many ways – 12-4

NFC East

NY Giants – Ron Dayne’s involved? I’ll take a pass. 5-11
Washington – Too much work to right ship immediately – 8-8
Dallas – Vinny T. displaces Carter by Thanksgiving Day – 8-8
Philadelphia – Owens gives McNabb another receiver to overthrow – 11-5

AFC North

Cleveland – Dawg Pound can’t be satisfied with defense – 8-8
Baltimore – Boller provides hope, won’t produce this year – 10-6
Pittsburgh – Slowly rebuilding, renewing Cowher a terrific move – 8-8
Cincinnati – One more year and they’ll be dangerous – 9-7

NFC North

Chicago – It depends how quick Rex “gets it” – 5-11
Green Bay – It’s Ahman’s team now, defense getting better – 10-6
Minnesota – Young defense needs linebackers and two years – 9-7
Detroit – Offensive potential, with linebacker and safety problems – 7-9

AFC South

Jacksonville – Fred’s healthy groin gives Leftwich growth potential – 8-8
Houston – Carr gets better, but too many holes – 6-10
Indianapolis – Edgerrin about to bounce back real big – 11-5
Tennessee – Too many losses: George, McCareins, Smith, Kearse – 8-8

NFC South

Carolina – Can’t ignore “flash in the pan” feeling – 8-8
Atlanta – If running improves, defense won’t be exposed – 9-7
Tampa – Uncertain, but I know Landow sucks* – 9-7
New Orleans – Classic underachievers find a way to win – 10-6

AFC West

Oakland – If Tim Brown retires, we all win – 4-12
Denver – Cover corner in this division is irrelevant – 9-7
San Diego – Nice place to live, Chargers will blow – 3-13
Kansas City – If they can hang 40, they’ll survive – 10-6

NFC West

Seattle – Trendy pick, less talent than you think – 10-6
St. Louis – Even asleep, they could win this division – 11-5
Arizona – WR talent so you’ll ignore DL sucks – 6-10
San Francisco – Threatening to be worst in the league – 3-13

By the way? That does work out to 256-256. So there. And Landow does suck*. Take that too.

*Landow only sucks because Al says so. I’ve never met Landow, and I’m sure he’s a lovely man. Or he sucks. One of the two.

The Score

Work has been kicking my ass lately.

That's not altogether a bad thing. In my position, there is often a lot of downtime, which can come in big chunks. Sure, there are things I can do with that downtime, and I do, but there are only so many things to do with many more hours in a day in which to do them.

So it's work that I blame for the lack of effort I've devoted to good ol' RTATS over the past week or two.

I'm not intending to scale back, it's just how life is working out lately.

So it's Sunday morning, and below you'll see the results of the "I'm With Stupid" game, for which I received 22 returned questionnaires from readers I knew about, and some who spend their days lurking and reading without commenting.

Either way, welcome.

You'll also get at least one post I wrote earlier this week about a weird hour of $1/$2 Limit I played this week. I wrote another about my extended family, but I think I'm going to chuck that one as I take a crap on some of my aunts, uncles, and cousins unnecessarily. They're a different sort of people, that's for sure, but I don't think everyone needs to know that my aunt and her third husband (of at least three to five years at this point) still split restaurant bills to the penny between them, or that my uncle and his second wife prevent my cousin from using the dryer more than once per week, and only allow her to use the iron on Tuesdays.

Whoops.

I'm committing myself to putting forth the effort to put up something decent sized this morning, not so much for y'all (but not not so much either), but so I don't feel so goddamned guilty if I can't write during my shift on Monday either.

Enjoy.

And I'll throw in a Hernandez for good measure

There was a baseball trade yesterday that featured a player-for-player Seanez for Nunez trade between two teams.

Is that the first time that a player with a tilde has been traded for a player with a tilde? Baseball has stats for everything, and it seems like at least once a week you have a "first time ever" happening in some game (first nine hit fourth inning on a Tuesday under the lights against a left handed middle reliever at Shea Stadium in August). I would bet the tilde for tilde trade here was a baseball first.

By the way, with the Latin influx of players in MLB, I still giggle when I see the last name "Rodriguez," thanks to Les Nessman and golfer Chi Chi Rodriguez.

I spent part of my day yesterday at Barnes and Noble, sitting in an easy chair reading a book by a writer from the New York Times who put together two pages each on 100 classic jazz records from Kid Ory to present day. I really should have bought the book, and still might, as his understanding of some of these recordings and artists was so brilliantly stated in powerful words and imagery that I almost felt like never committing another phrase to page again. That's how good he was.

I have a jealous admiration for some of my fellow bloggers out there, specifically calling out Pauly for not only being talented, but giving his writing the time and dedication necessary to really create something of substance and worth.

Me? I just type. I know I am at least readable, or else I wouldn't have 60+ return visitors to this spot every day, but I'm not capable of explaining Wayne Shorter's particular genius the way the author of that book, Ben Ratilff, is. And that's frustrating.

Yes, I know he's a professional and I'm not, and I know he's a trained music critic who understands complex musical theory far better than I, but I'd give anything to be able to deliver words as pointed and eloquent as some of those phrases and paragraphs were.

Most of the time, I don't really care if I suck or don't, or if I'm interesting or not. It's just that sometimes words can be so wonderfully powerful in their artful construction that they make me feel mundane by comparison. Which I am, by comparison of this music critic when you put our expertise and training side by side (me=none, he=lots).

That being said, even with the jealousy, admiration, and frustration factored in, I'm as inspired as I am anything else.

Why do you think I write so damn much? I want one great paragraph. Just one. Someday, I hope.

Random Search Strings

A few comments, should the people who found me using the following search terms reappear looking for answers:

hottest sitcom moms - I may be rethinking my position on early Florence Henderson. Oh yeah...

george thorogood one bourbon scotch and beer mpeg - I have evidence George Thorogood was a member of Hitler's SS, and helped load Polish Jews on trains in the war. Oh, and he picks his nose and eats it.

black cow steely dan ingredients - Take two math nerds with instruments, add capable session musicians and indecipherable lyrics. Place in a studio and shake well.

did owen in a prayer for owen meany leave john a broken and ruined man by killing his mother - Not exactly. But sort of. Owen Meany gave John Wheelwright reasons to doubt his faith, and reasons to explore his faith. He put him in situations that made him think, "Why would a god ever..." and also essentially "proved" to John that Owen was an instrument of his (god's) will. When a young man has so much taken and given to him at the same time, it can leave him in a constant state of questioning his relationship with god and faith. That's where John was. Yes, he was broken and ruined, but it was because Owen Meany gave him access to so many answers, which only generated even more in the way of questions.

maria sharpova nipple - jesuschrist people. I should have you arrested. I know your IP address.

royal prestige cookware richard simmons - I had to investigate this one. Sometimes with nearly 400,000 searchable words to my credit, I worry that I actually accidentally endorsed Richard Simmons' line of QVC cookware or something. "Royal," however, was used in the "poker flush" sense. "Prestige" in the "Miles' early record label" way, and I have something about cookware for some reason too. I'm trying to figure out why I mentioned Richard Simmons on that archive page, and I'm re-reading some of my old stuff. Here's something I was giggling at when talking about the "Bottom Ten Books on my Bookshelf:"

9) "Don't Sweat The Small Stuff At Work" by whoever is responsible for this travesty - I got this book as a "thanks for playing" present from the people with whom I used to work. I could make a top ten list of what they should have spent $14 on instead of this bullshit I'll never read, but let's just say they should have bought me a bottle of wine, and left me to get drunk on my own. Although, that's probably me just getting angry because they moved my cheese or something. I need a little Chicken Soup for the Sniper with the High Powered Rifle on the Clock Tower or something.

And I can't find Richard Simmons anywhere on the page. Thank god.

blues panties - That's what I get for mentioning those "man p@ntiez" (spelling changed to prevent porn googling) about two weeks ago.

$2.33 an Hour

Good god almighty, another $5/$1 PartyPoker multi, another Saturday afternoon down the drain.

I don't mean that in the negative sense. I'm just saying that three hours of multi-play is enough to drive anyone to bleary-eyed frustration.

But hell, somewhere between "I played pretty well," and "Thank god I caught those cards" lies the truth about my finish yesterday.

1039 entrants, I placed 71st, good for +$6.99 ($12.99 total). After three hours.

Nothing like doubling your money on three hours of effort I guess.

Anyway, I went up early when a BB limp on 67o flopped the open-ended rainbow, and I caught the high cap on the turn, still managing to drag two through the river to showdown with the nuts. I gave it all back about ten minutes later, knocking my stack from 1400 to 400 when a TPTK move on the flop with Offsuit Slick got called (shit) by two pair on the board, which held up.

That's where the fun began. There were still about 800+ people in the tournament when my kneecaps were shattered by that blow, so from that point, I never limped outside the BB again. It was the Mean Gene School of ShortStack Play ("That was my idea... But I never thought to get a patent.") from then on.

And the cards just kept holding up for me. I would either steal blinds or double up, as I tried to tread water and make the money.

I managed to only get to T600 or so with 200 players left (how's that for treading water?), but by the time we hit a point 20 players out of the money, I was sitting with nearly T8000, an average stack for the tournament.

99 held up twice, KK got no action but swept up a bunch of limpers pretty good, you get the picture.

With Al playing the role of cheerleader, I pushed and folded my way into the money.

I think breaking out the Mean Gene strategy for the better part of 90 minutes against the same players really worked against me ultimately though. I got KK again with T7500 or so, with the blinds at 500/1000, and raised 2XBB from MP after one EP player limped, and everybody folded to me. Yes, even the EP limper.

Sigh... Would I have been better off just pushing there? I mean, a 2XBB raise there was far more suspicious than pushing all-in for me. I could have had anything pushing all-in, but I guess they thought (knew) I had a monster with the "come on, give me some action" raise.

As soon as I made the money and had a just-below-average stack (which I hear the ladies still can work with, as long as you know how to use it) to show for my efforts, I knew that the difference between 50th and 90th place wasn't so drastic that I should tighten up tremendously, so I kept pushing ('cept for KK that one time).

I got caught in 71st place when I pushed 66 from the BB against one limper, a big stack who gleefully called and flipped AA.

Well, whatareyagonnado?

Side note on chatting with Al during the tournament (he busted out in the 250 range, good showing): To me, there's not much funnier than asking Al not what he would do in a scenario, but asking him what his wife would do. That's comedy.

I'm pretty pleased, all things considered. 71st out of 1039 means that I'm in the top 7% of all poker players worldwide, right? Take that fellow poker bloggers. That's right, I'm calling you out. We'll see you in the next poker blogger multi my friends.

(uh... please make sure those last three sentences are read with sarcasm, and not smack. We all know how bad in general I stink, right?)

It's Ovah! Pauly v. BG Week 9 Challenge!

Oh yeah! By a score of 139-111, BG takes Week 9 of our Challenge in the "I'm With Stupid" game.

He came up light on "#1 Box Office Movie," picking "Shrek2" instead of "Spidey2," and by guessing "The Who," instead of "The Stones" on "Best British Band Not Named The Beatles."

Thanks to all who played, here are the most common answers, some dumb answers, and a scorecard for the match.

Max point total possible on any question would have been 22, had we all guessed something the exact same way.

Q1 - Fruit you don't eat the seeds of - "APPLE - 10 pts" - while watermelon and orange were good guesses, I'd have to say CubanLinx's guess of "Banana" was a little off the beaten path. I'm also docking Mike T from GM 4.5 cool points for the answer of "strawberry." Good luck avoiding the seeds of that one.

Q2 - NBA Cali team - "Lakers - 21 pts" Sorry Otis, the Kings weren't a popular choice.

Q3 - Celeb Sex Tape - "Paris Hilton - 16" - even though I think I was more astounded by Pam's (6), and enjoyed Jenna Lewis' quite a bit too. By the way, have you seen the Gena Lee Nolin one? She's not having a good time.

Q4 - Pro Poker Author - "Phil Hellmuth - 10 pts" - Doyle Brunson (9) and Sklansky (3) were the only other guesses.

Q5 - Non-burgercentric Fast Food - "Taco Bell - 13 pts" - KFC (8) was the second most popular, and apologies to NemoD for having both a bad guess (Domino's) and getting the "Samir Nagheenanajar" Memorial Award for Most Unpronouceable Last Name in the game. ("No one in this country can ever pronounce my name right. It's not that hard: Samir Na-gheen-an-a-jar. Nagheenanajar." "Yeah, well at least your name isn't Michael Bolton.")

Q6 - #1 Box Office Movie - "Spidey2 - 18 pts" - Two said "Shrek2," and one each for the Moore movie and the Bourne movie. Sorry again Otis.

Q7 - Rocky's Nemesis - "Apollo Creed - 18 pts" - I really didn't see this one as the slam dunk that it became. You've got Drago (3 pts) and Clubber Lang (CE our Defense Department Intern - 1 pt) for chrissakes!

Q8 - Last Place NFL 2004-05 - "Cardinals - 15pts" - another one that shouldn't have been a slam dunk. Or ended up this way. No way they finish behind the Niners (NemoD, meet Daddy, who you may now kick in the shins), Chargers (2), or maybe even Miami (The Poker Genius, all by himself on this one). I'm going to give Matt L (dedicated reader) "Worst Guess" award for picking Jacksonville, who are serious sleepers this year.

Q9 - Best British non-Beatles Band - "Stones - 15 pts" - CE the Intern needs to listen to a little classic rock in West Lafayette this semester. Or start hanging around some people with taste in music. He guessed "The Beatles," upon admitting he didn't know. Then again, Kyle S didn't know anyone either. If you need me to, I'll send you some suggestions. There's no excuse for not knowing an answer here. By the way, most underrated non-Beatles British Band? Jethro Tull. Seriously. Classic rock radio only plays "Aqualung," which is a fun song, but go buy "Stand Up" and tell me that's not an extremely listenable and interesting album.

Q10 - Final Table at WSOP 2003 - "Sam Farha - 14 pts" - Phil, from Studio Glyphic tried to suck up to me and said he thought one of the guys at the WSOP Final Table was, in fact, yours truly. I like suckups. Doesn't earn you bonus game points, but he just shot up nicely in cool points. Nice job.

Final Scores:

BadBlood - 145
BG - 139
Luke - 132
Al - 132
Bret - 131
The Commish - 131
Johnny Flopboot - 130
Daddy - 130
NemoD - 125
PokerGenius - 124
KyleS - 122
MattL - 120
Phil - 116
Maudie - 113
Pauly - 111
Halverson - 106
CubanLinx - 104
M7 - 102
JasonW - 98
MikeT from GM - 97
Otis - 92
CE the Intern - 85

Thanks again for playing!