butchrosser.wordpress.com.
Keep your bookmarks close and your enemies closer. Sad. 10 posts away from 6g and I pull this. Then again, I gots it like that.
ADDENDUM: In an effort to facilitate traffic over to the new DUSL I have Hayden Panettiere licking some boob. Seriously. So by all means change your links and whatever else you got to. I'm bringing the almost legal lesboriffic overtone goodness at WordPress and you're over here missing it. Blogger is so '03.
4/11/07
Better Know A Hottie
Saw Grindhouse on Easter (because that's how I am. Plus, it was Aaron's idea) and since I didn't loathe it as much as the auteur did I do believe at the rate she's going Vanessa Ferlito is going to
make some deprived Asian kid damn happy in 2017:
make some deprived Asian kid damn happy in 2017:
4/10/07
Add It Up
"I will look at this award as...undeniable proof that I'm a bad-ass motherfucker."
--Jim Carrey
Yup. Give me two consecutive full houses. Let me stack up six final table eliminations. Keep Marky Mark, Georgey George and Cubey Cube at home while I get three kings heads-up. A win this week for two this month for four in under three weeks and six all year.
You think "Abandon Chips All Ye Who Enter Here" is too verbose a poker nickname?
the Cardigans[IRON MAN]
--Jim Carrey
Yup. Give me two consecutive full houses. Let me stack up six final table eliminations. Keep Marky Mark, Georgey George and Cubey Cube at home while I get three kings heads-up. A win this week for two this month for four in under three weeks and six all year.
You think "Abandon Chips All Ye Who Enter Here" is too verbose a poker nickname?
the Cardigans[IRON MAN]
4/9/07
Mic Check
I know I'm behind a few hours in the posting of my tremendous Saturday night, but I'm back on getting what I can when I can. So lay off, ya bastids.
Heh.
Anyhow, for the second time in two weeks I spent one night at a baller-ass club only to be immediately followed the next day by spending the next day in a dive bar. This says something about me but arsed if I can figure out what it is exactly.
I got there a little late, so I only got 3 songs. For everybody drooling in anticipation over the setlist, please make sure you are seated.
1) What I Diggity Say - Bangers And Mash ("What I Say", instrumental/"No Diggety", vocal)
2) Black Beatles - Loo & Placido ("Let's Get It Started" (i)/"Run For Your Life" (v))
3) Don't Stop Believin' In Planet Rock - A plus D ("Planet Rock" (i)/"Don't Stop Believin'" (v)
Tracks will be sent to interested parties upon request. Anyways, I met a few awesome, awesome people in the earlier part of the evening.
One of them is named Kallao, who in addition to spinning his own sets during the evening is a local DJ of one of the radio stations I actually liked before the Pod came. He got the fun shot of me above. (Note to self: next time you wear the Ramones shirt maybe you want to work Jimmi James' "Hey Ho Wonderwall" in there somewhere!)
Another one is DJ Riko, who moved here from Columbus in the recent past. In his defense, it was Columbus and this is San Diego. Anyway, Riko probably would get top billing for the evening trackwise, and was really low key and detached for someone who earned a spot in the '05 Best of Bootie mixtape that was #1 And The Best For The Year. I believe I'm going to get some shots from his camp of me getting down--and you may even get some video footage of yours truly doing a few seconds of breakdancing. Weep, puny mortals. Fucking weep.
Also, I met Adam from Cover Me Badd's Blasphemous Guitars. I'd talked to everybody through CrackSpace but this was the first time we'd all met met in the 3-D world and they couldn't've been more welcoming or awesome. Adam even had the class to be at least feigned upset when I mentioned after the show during the Johnny Cash cover medley (a reggae cover of "Hurt" which was worth the price of admission alone/"Personal Jesus"/"Rusty Cage") I'd expected the Depeche Mode homage portion to be accompanied by a HAPPY FUCKING EASTER! Hey, the man said during a Christmas medley on local TV "Do we have time to introduce our dancers, Misletoe and Camel--no?" I'd just assumed. But anyway, they blew the doors off the joint and outside of Danny & Victoria who are probably talking about this on the Uncast as I type the rest of the of the local crowd disguised themselves pretty effectively as vapor. Their fucking loss. Who needs action when you've got words, right?
(Please don't point out the irony of me using that quote during a blog post.)
It got over 100 people to a dive bar, pretty remarkably. And there are talks about doing it again before the next scheduled one to kick off August.
So, in honor of one of my new friends, I would like for you to raise your fist in the air. Adam's having some relationship difficulties.
P.S. Don't be surprised to see another template change; Opera's been uppity and I get shanked on putting up picture sizes? Funk dat!
Cover Me Badd's Blasphemous Guitars[GIRLFRIEND WITH AN ADDICTION (live but not from Saturday night)]
Heh.
Anyhow, for the second time in two weeks I spent one night at a baller-ass club only to be immediately followed the next day by spending the next day in a dive bar. This says something about me but arsed if I can figure out what it is exactly.
I got there a little late, so I only got 3 songs. For everybody drooling in anticipation over the setlist, please make sure you are seated.
1) What I Diggity Say - Bangers And Mash ("What I Say", instrumental/"No Diggety", vocal)
2) Black Beatles - Loo & Placido ("Let's Get It Started" (i)/"Run For Your Life" (v))
3) Don't Stop Believin' In Planet Rock - A plus D ("Planet Rock" (i)/"Don't Stop Believin'" (v)
Tracks will be sent to interested parties upon request. Anyways, I met a few awesome, awesome people in the earlier part of the evening.
One of them is named Kallao, who in addition to spinning his own sets during the evening is a local DJ of one of the radio stations I actually liked before the Pod came. He got the fun shot of me above. (Note to self: next time you wear the Ramones shirt maybe you want to work Jimmi James' "Hey Ho Wonderwall" in there somewhere!)
Another one is DJ Riko, who moved here from Columbus in the recent past. In his defense, it was Columbus and this is San Diego. Anyway, Riko probably would get top billing for the evening trackwise, and was really low key and detached for someone who earned a spot in the '05 Best of Bootie mixtape that was #1 And The Best For The Year. I believe I'm going to get some shots from his camp of me getting down--and you may even get some video footage of yours truly doing a few seconds of breakdancing. Weep, puny mortals. Fucking weep.
Also, I met Adam from Cover Me Badd's Blasphemous Guitars. I'd talked to everybody through CrackSpace but this was the first time we'd all met met in the 3-D world and they couldn't've been more welcoming or awesome. Adam even had the class to be at least feigned upset when I mentioned after the show during the Johnny Cash cover medley (a reggae cover of "Hurt" which was worth the price of admission alone/"Personal Jesus"/"Rusty Cage") I'd expected the Depeche Mode homage portion to be accompanied by a HAPPY FUCKING EASTER! Hey, the man said during a Christmas medley on local TV "Do we have time to introduce our dancers, Misletoe and Camel--no?" I'd just assumed. But anyway, they blew the doors off the joint and outside of Danny & Victoria who are probably talking about this on the Uncast as I type the rest of the of the local crowd disguised themselves pretty effectively as vapor. Their fucking loss. Who needs action when you've got words, right?
(Please don't point out the irony of me using that quote during a blog post.)
It got over 100 people to a dive bar, pretty remarkably. And there are talks about doing it again before the next scheduled one to kick off August.
So, in honor of one of my new friends, I would like for you to raise your fist in the air. Adam's having some relationship difficulties.
P.S. Don't be surprised to see another template change; Opera's been uppity and I get shanked on putting up picture sizes? Funk dat!
Cover Me Badd's Blasphemous Guitars[GIRLFRIEND WITH AN ADDICTION (live but not from Saturday night)]
4/7/07
My Name's Not Mitchell Or Ness But I Throwback Like The Best Of Them
There is still a thin row of sweat going across my head. I keep coughing up what appears to slime in quarter and dime-sized increments. My neck is sore, and my back is a little off.
These are not stress-reduced ailments with the imminent return of the family; it's because I caught wreck again last night. I made a last second decision to go out again--empty house or not, it's still Friday night and I'm still 28, single, and semi-decent looking. I went to a one of my favorite usual spots and Jen the Hottest Bartender In the County had the night off at Confidential. Fortunately, the smoked bacon mini quesadillas were as good as ever. There was a cute girl named Megan in her place who's into baseball. (Previous sentence for Aaron.) I went down the block and as I stand on the corner someone asks me where Aubergine is. I happen to be going to Aubergine, so I get to lead them the rest of the way. It was hilarious for the four blocks we were together. I even pulled the "you kids back there better settle down or I'll turn this thing around and nobody'll go to Disneyland this year!" card.
And then we got there and then I had to pay. I hadn't paid a full cover in about 2 years. It blew. I jokingly brought it up to my DJing buddy, and he gave me half cover and hooked me up with some VIP stuff in the future. He put on "It Takes Two" when I asked for it, and I reciprocated with the Running Man.
Bitches loves the Running Man.
This sort of thing is what we in the writing industry call foreshadowing.
So Mikey kills his hour-and-a-half set, and the guys I made friends with bounce in the other room, and I make some friends in there, and I get my fill in before I'm about to bounce and catch the last bus back to the vicinity of here. But Mikey stops me, and then it happens.
We take a couple doors backstage, and then bang I'm on stage. The bass is ridonkulous. I can feel it vibrating through me. I gave a few head nods to my buddies at the front with a little "Hey, lookit me" smirk. And it's about 1, so the club is SRO at this point. Also at this point, I can see Mikey whispering to the DJ, Scooter, and he nods at me. In the immortal words of Tyler Durden, I knew the rest of the story before he even told it to me.
Let Us Take You Back To Earlier In The Night At Confidential, during which in conversation between pitches at the Padres game down the block I may have mentioned the Turk Dance seen earlier in the week at this site.
Now he slows down "Welcome To Jamrock" and naturally everybody starts looking towards the stage and it's Scooter on the decks, Mikey with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and me.
Fortunately for me, I'd had 4 beers.
The BBD groove hits and you'd think with like 500 people in front of you I would've focused on that but in my head it was all "Hit the steps. Hit the steps. Right over left." But I can say once I hit the hand clap and went behind the back the shit was officially on. It was nearly an out-of-body experience: the bass just creating a breeze, making sure early I hit the steps, hearing a metric shitload (scientific term) of people yelling GO GO GO at me. At that point, as everybody sang the bridge, it got to the chorus and it was Running Man time again.
This may be literally the most fun I've had with all my clothes on.
My friends in the front are about to fall over. This birthday girl Carmen who was friends with Scooter in this low-cut black top is jumping up and down so much I saw areola.
And I'm thinking to myself, "You know, I'm not the mayor, but I could probably fill in in a pinch."
So hopefully in a few hours, I get that feeling of joy back. And that first paragraph is going to magically disappear, if only for a while.
Alanis Morissette [MY HUMPS]
These are not stress-reduced ailments with the imminent return of the family; it's because I caught wreck again last night. I made a last second decision to go out again--empty house or not, it's still Friday night and I'm still 28, single, and semi-decent looking. I went to a one of my favorite usual spots and Jen the Hottest Bartender In the County had the night off at Confidential. Fortunately, the smoked bacon mini quesadillas were as good as ever. There was a cute girl named Megan in her place who's into baseball. (Previous sentence for Aaron.) I went down the block and as I stand on the corner someone asks me where Aubergine is. I happen to be going to Aubergine, so I get to lead them the rest of the way. It was hilarious for the four blocks we were together. I even pulled the "you kids back there better settle down or I'll turn this thing around and nobody'll go to Disneyland this year!" card.
And then we got there and then I had to pay. I hadn't paid a full cover in about 2 years. It blew. I jokingly brought it up to my DJing buddy, and he gave me half cover and hooked me up with some VIP stuff in the future. He put on "It Takes Two" when I asked for it, and I reciprocated with the Running Man.
Bitches loves the Running Man.
This sort of thing is what we in the writing industry call foreshadowing.
So Mikey kills his hour-and-a-half set, and the guys I made friends with bounce in the other room, and I make some friends in there, and I get my fill in before I'm about to bounce and catch the last bus back to the vicinity of here. But Mikey stops me, and then it happens.
We take a couple doors backstage, and then bang I'm on stage. The bass is ridonkulous. I can feel it vibrating through me. I gave a few head nods to my buddies at the front with a little "Hey, lookit me" smirk. And it's about 1, so the club is SRO at this point. Also at this point, I can see Mikey whispering to the DJ, Scooter, and he nods at me. In the immortal words of Tyler Durden, I knew the rest of the story before he even told it to me.
Let Us Take You Back To Earlier In The Night At Confidential, during which in conversation between pitches at the Padres game down the block I may have mentioned the Turk Dance seen earlier in the week at this site.
Now he slows down "Welcome To Jamrock" and naturally everybody starts looking towards the stage and it's Scooter on the decks, Mikey with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and me.
Fortunately for me, I'd had 4 beers.
The BBD groove hits and you'd think with like 500 people in front of you I would've focused on that but in my head it was all "Hit the steps. Hit the steps. Right over left." But I can say once I hit the hand clap and went behind the back the shit was officially on. It was nearly an out-of-body experience: the bass just creating a breeze, making sure early I hit the steps, hearing a metric shitload (scientific term) of people yelling GO GO GO at me. At that point, as everybody sang the bridge, it got to the chorus and it was Running Man time again.
This may be literally the most fun I've had with all my clothes on.
My friends in the front are about to fall over. This birthday girl Carmen who was friends with Scooter in this low-cut black top is jumping up and down so much I saw areola.
And I'm thinking to myself, "You know, I'm not the mayor, but I could probably fill in in a pinch."
So hopefully in a few hours, I get that feeling of joy back. And that first paragraph is going to magically disappear, if only for a while.
Alanis Morissette [MY HUMPS]
4/6/07
Yes, I Am Having A Good Friday Barometer
I'm really going to be bringing the video content on this one since KRS-One needs it for oh so very many things. Seriously, though, you 56k-using dial-up AOL.com e-mail having pranksters may want to join us in the 21st century and skip this go-round. As for the rest of y'all--
REGULAAAAAAATORS! Mount up!
ALBA: Mmm-MMM, this week has been freedomtastic. With the rest of the family going to the chick ball final four I have had the house to myself. You'd be surprised to find this out, but it turns out my family and the lack of money are the cause of all the lack-of-female stress in my life. Give me my tax return at the speed of light and autonomy? It turns out I can get around 30, almost 60, and sometimes 90 minutes of writing done a day while buffering it with practicing poker, keeping up on podcasts, wallowing in my own crapulence, and laughing as the creditors dial the house phone as the same time as my cell and I ignore both. I'll be broke by Monday giving them a little cash and paying off old rent, but that should settle my equilibrium.
Cheney: Why do I have to write the Friday Barometer with Firefox every week? It's like Opera has a thing against the content I bring specificially for FBs. Some Ghost in the Machine shit going on, I swears.
Cheney: And how the hell did I get a cold in this, the best of all possible times?
ALBA: Quality speakers for $20. First time I have the new tower alongside actual audio. Life is good.
ALBA: BundchenBundchenBundchen! It's fun to say and a million more times more fun to look at. Of course, thinking about things has sent me down a Lewis Black path that should be killing me in the course of the next week, but it's a fine way to go. Questions that need to be answered, if you ask me--how does she have 3 other sisters with no brothers, b) how is the Victoria's Secret supermodel not automatically the hottie of the family, c) what are the odds of having 6 girls, c.5) let alone six hawwwwwwwwwwwt ones, 4) how much of your soul would you give up to walk in that house with your best friend, look around at the Bundchens at the pool, poke him in the shoulder and go "I'll dive on the grenade here"?, e) is this the first time in recorded history you would push your family in traffic to dive on the grenade?
And right before I passed out in a pool of my own DNA and sweat, I remember thinking "If it weren't for my horse..."
Cheney: Tom Brady. Seriously, motherFUCK him.
ALBA: "So, about 10 years ago we're in London riding in an original Edsel, and then we got to go all the way to the left side of the road. We're in Great England, is why! And all of a sudden Brasky goes, 'Did that rich bitch in the limo just cut us off?!' and I look ahead and I see this logo for the royal family, so I say to Brasky, 'Bill! It's Princess Diana!' And Brasky stares a hole from me--which healed in 4 months--and he says to me, 'You mean was Princess Diana.' The next thing I know I'm flying through a windshield wondering if my passport just fell out my pants. I can tell that story now because the statue of limitations has expired."
ALBA: Grindhouse. Just assuming. Now if there was only a way they could get cheap, awesome publicity and blow KMB's heart out his chest...naaaaaaaaaaah...
ALBA: In one of the greatest parodies of all time, Alanis will have you spending all your money on her, and spending time on her--her jiggling...it's oddly hypnotic...like a lava lamp...
ALBA: As the alleged table-setter the rest of the world takes their cues from, why the hell does our TV suck so much? Mexican TV owns us, and Brazilian TV owns everybody. Exhibit A.
And the defense motherfucking rests, because it's feeling oddly sleepy now.
ALBA: For everybody I'm dragging into the mashup world, Ramdom Thoughts brings an hour of bastard pop sweetness a week. And they shout me out in episode #50, which in no way, shape, or form influenced their position in this site. *cough*
ALBA: Girl Talk may not be the best DJ alive, but nobody's better. Almost an hour of phenaweomnal goddamn Gregg Gillis power, from his live New Year's Eve show in Chicago. There are singalongs from Tom Petty AND Tag Team. Paula Cole makes a 12-second appearance. Even the lowlight with the drunken moron screaming "GROOVE IS IN THE HEART" for the minute it's on is immediately assuaged with Jermaine Stewart. You read me right, Aaron. Jermaine Stewart. Anyhow, if I got to sell you on him after this, find yourself a new friend.
ALBA: San Diego's new mashup night is tomorrow night and thanks to his tireless grassroots promotional efforts certain people you know, love--well, tolerate and even take blog ideas from is getting a half-hour of requests to make heads turn, necks bruise, ears perks, and booties to decrease in horizontalality as if the surface is heated. I've been saying for months I'm going to throw it all away to become a DJ...and I might.
Cheney: Trying to narrow it down to 8 songs and a half-hour's worth of stuff when I have 200 songs and 12.4 hours worth.
ALBA: Libby had a few suggestions as I dropped a few of my favorites--stuff in the final pile of 30 that may make the cut and she's a fan of the Montell Jordan/GnR headbanger "This Is How We Do It In The Jungle" and the Most Evil And Wrong Song In the History Of Mankind That's Still Listenable, nin and Ace of Base bring together a rape baby in "She Wants Animals". I'm going with the fine folks at Uncast so you should have some pictures and I'll let y'all know how it goes.
REGULAAAAAAATORS! Mount up!
ALBA: Mmm-MMM, this week has been freedomtastic. With the rest of the family going to the chick ball final four I have had the house to myself. You'd be surprised to find this out, but it turns out my family and the lack of money are the cause of all the lack-of-female stress in my life. Give me my tax return at the speed of light and autonomy? It turns out I can get around 30, almost 60, and sometimes 90 minutes of writing done a day while buffering it with practicing poker, keeping up on podcasts, wallowing in my own crapulence, and laughing as the creditors dial the house phone as the same time as my cell and I ignore both. I'll be broke by Monday giving them a little cash and paying off old rent, but that should settle my equilibrium.
Cheney: Why do I have to write the Friday Barometer with Firefox every week? It's like Opera has a thing against the content I bring specificially for FBs. Some Ghost in the Machine shit going on, I swears.
Cheney: And how the hell did I get a cold in this, the best of all possible times?
ALBA: Quality speakers for $20. First time I have the new tower alongside actual audio. Life is good.
ALBA: BundchenBundchenBundchen! It's fun to say and a million more times more fun to look at. Of course, thinking about things has sent me down a Lewis Black path that should be killing me in the course of the next week, but it's a fine way to go. Questions that need to be answered, if you ask me--how does she have 3 other sisters with no brothers, b) how is the Victoria's Secret supermodel not automatically the hottie of the family, c) what are the odds of having 6 girls, c.5) let alone six hawwwwwwwwwwwt ones, 4) how much of your soul would you give up to walk in that house with your best friend, look around at the Bundchens at the pool, poke him in the shoulder and go "I'll dive on the grenade here"?, e) is this the first time in recorded history you would push your family in traffic to dive on the grenade?
And right before I passed out in a pool of my own DNA and sweat, I remember thinking "If it weren't for my horse..."
Cheney: Tom Brady. Seriously, motherFUCK him.
ALBA: "So, about 10 years ago we're in London riding in an original Edsel, and then we got to go all the way to the left side of the road. We're in Great England, is why! And all of a sudden Brasky goes, 'Did that rich bitch in the limo just cut us off?!' and I look ahead and I see this logo for the royal family, so I say to Brasky, 'Bill! It's Princess Diana!' And Brasky stares a hole from me--which healed in 4 months--and he says to me, 'You mean was Princess Diana.' The next thing I know I'm flying through a windshield wondering if my passport just fell out my pants. I can tell that story now because the statue of limitations has expired."
ALBA: Grindhouse. Just assuming. Now if there was only a way they could get cheap, awesome publicity and blow KMB's heart out his chest...naaaaaaaaaaah...
ALBA: In one of the greatest parodies of all time, Alanis will have you spending all your money on her, and spending time on her--her jiggling...it's oddly hypnotic...like a lava lamp...
ALBA: As the alleged table-setter the rest of the world takes their cues from, why the hell does our TV suck so much? Mexican TV owns us, and Brazilian TV owns everybody. Exhibit A.
And the defense motherfucking rests, because it's feeling oddly sleepy now.
ALBA: For everybody I'm dragging into the mashup world, Ramdom Thoughts brings an hour of bastard pop sweetness a week. And they shout me out in episode #50, which in no way, shape, or form influenced their position in this site. *cough*
ALBA: Girl Talk may not be the best DJ alive, but nobody's better. Almost an hour of phenaweomnal goddamn Gregg Gillis power, from his live New Year's Eve show in Chicago. There are singalongs from Tom Petty AND Tag Team. Paula Cole makes a 12-second appearance. Even the lowlight with the drunken moron screaming "GROOVE IS IN THE HEART" for the minute it's on is immediately assuaged with Jermaine Stewart. You read me right, Aaron. Jermaine Stewart. Anyhow, if I got to sell you on him after this, find yourself a new friend.
ALBA: San Diego's new mashup night is tomorrow night and thanks to his tireless grassroots promotional efforts certain people you know, love--well, tolerate and even take blog ideas from is getting a half-hour of requests to make heads turn, necks bruise, ears perks, and booties to decrease in horizontalality as if the surface is heated. I've been saying for months I'm going to throw it all away to become a DJ...and I might.
Cheney: Trying to narrow it down to 8 songs and a half-hour's worth of stuff when I have 200 songs and 12.4 hours worth.
ALBA: Libby had a few suggestions as I dropped a few of my favorites--stuff in the final pile of 30 that may make the cut and she's a fan of the Montell Jordan/GnR headbanger "This Is How We Do It In The Jungle" and the Most Evil And Wrong Song In the History Of Mankind That's Still Listenable, nin and Ace of Base bring together a rape baby in "She Wants Animals". I'm going with the fine folks at Uncast so you should have some pictures and I'll let y'all know how it goes.
4/4/07
4/3/07
Impervious To Bullets, But Keep Her Highness Away, Please
So it's down to heads-up as I go for another tournament win. Trust me, you bust a guy with runner-runner to make a straight with your 58off, you start feeling good.
I've got K6 off.
Flop has a King.
All-in.
My opponent had Siegfried & Roy (pocket Queens).
I am 2 cards away from winning tournament #4 in a fortnight.
One card away.
Freddy Goddamn Mercury, and I'm out in 2nd.
Pwamp.
ADDENDUM: 2 seconds in 12 hours. This is officially a fuck.
DJ AM[A.D.D. Mix II]
I've got K6 off.
Flop has a King.
All-in.
My opponent had Siegfried & Roy (pocket Queens).
I am 2 cards away from winning tournament #4 in a fortnight.
One card away.
Freddy Goddamn Mercury, and I'm out in 2nd.
Pwamp.
ADDENDUM: 2 seconds in 12 hours. This is officially a fuck.
DJ AM[A.D.D. Mix II]
4/2/07
"At Which Point Did You Realize You Were The Chosen One?"
I need to forget about everything I hold dear in this town, in this county, in this state, pack my meager belongings the fuck up, and get to Vegas.
Now.
This would be an awesome April Fool's joke, except it's about half an hour into day 2 of April.
It turns out, it's very easy to win also when it comes to heads-up post-river showdowns, if you go 14 out of 15 before the end.
It also turns out when people go all-in and don't make their flush draws, or their high pair is dwarfed by your pocket Kings, that that also assists in busting the last two people who aren't you and adding to what Junior M.A.F.I.A. so eloquently called "fuck bitches, get money".
So to update from the last time, this makes it three tournament wins and a cash payoff in 11 days for the fifth win of the year.
Yeah, I may be halfway decent.
Only one way to really celebrate this--
Now.
This would be an awesome April Fool's joke, except it's about half an hour into day 2 of April.
It turns out, it's very easy to win also when it comes to heads-up post-river showdowns, if you go 14 out of 15 before the end.
It also turns out when people go all-in and don't make their flush draws, or their high pair is dwarfed by your pocket Kings, that that also assists in busting the last two people who aren't you and adding to what Junior M.A.F.I.A. so eloquently called "fuck bitches, get money".
So to update from the last time, this makes it three tournament wins and a cash payoff in 11 days for the fifth win of the year.
Yeah, I may be halfway decent.
Only one way to really celebrate this--
4/1/07
You Don't Need To Follow Baseball To Know Cards
Around this time last year--possibly '05, I can't be arsed to remember at this point--Topps released a very limited edition poker set with NBA legends, rookies, and current all-stars. While I didn't have enough to cop the whole set I did have the pocket change to score a George Gervin for my dad and a Clyde Frazier for myself.
Last time I lost in a cash game for the first time since I started playing. I'm usually not superstitious. But then tonight happened, and I'm not so sure.
Clyde ran his undefeated streak to seven or eight with some muhfuggin AUTHORITAH behind it, as I quadrupled up off of my original buy-in to make $40 in my second-biggest profit ever.
Let me amend: I'm usually not superstitious, except when it comes to poker 8x in a row.
There weren't any spectacular plays on my part, and I'm sorry to say for those of you who try to following my quote/unquote career I don't remember a lot of hands. (Mainly just the all-in two pair against my unbeatable nut Ace-high flush.) I played loose-passive, but I'm proud because my original plan was loose-aggressive and then when I got out ahead of the pack I managed to slow myself down and get some straights and flushes on lackluster hands I usually don't fuck with. After that, it was just a big fat hurry up and wait.
Add this with all the freedom, the brand new speakers that work, and my tax refund coming in? Yeah, today rocked the house.
Bring April to me, and I will make it kneel.
Especially if she's pretty.
Son Of A Preacher Man Dusty Springfield
Last time I lost in a cash game for the first time since I started playing. I'm usually not superstitious. But then tonight happened, and I'm not so sure.
Clyde ran his undefeated streak to seven or eight with some muhfuggin AUTHORITAH behind it, as I quadrupled up off of my original buy-in to make $40 in my second-biggest profit ever.
Let me amend: I'm usually not superstitious, except when it comes to poker 8x in a row.
There weren't any spectacular plays on my part, and I'm sorry to say for those of you who try to following my quote/unquote career I don't remember a lot of hands. (Mainly just the all-in two pair against my unbeatable nut Ace-high flush.) I played loose-passive, but I'm proud because my original plan was loose-aggressive and then when I got out ahead of the pack I managed to slow myself down and get some straights and flushes on lackluster hands I usually don't fuck with. After that, it was just a big fat hurry up and wait.
Add this with all the freedom, the brand new speakers that work, and my tax refund coming in? Yeah, today rocked the house.
Bring April to me, and I will make it kneel.
Especially if she's pretty.
Son Of A Preacher Man Dusty Springfield
3/29/07
Y Mi Palabra Es La Ley
To anybody I offend in the the following 76-minute podcast: from the bottom of my heart, y'all can eat this dick.
Tres Delinquentes Deliquent Habits
Tres Delinquentes Deliquent Habits
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