Kitchen Confidential

I just finished reading Kitchen Confidential while waiting for the GF to get home so we can leave for my buddy Paul's wedding tomorrow in Santa Monica. Anthony Bourdain's autobiographical account of the inner workings of the restaurant industry as he's seen it, was an interesting, funny trip into a universe which I admire immensely. His unique voice rich with vulgarity is a candid, honest revelation about what goes on behind the kitchen. Those people who prepare our overpriced meal at a fancy schmancy restaurant actually do work hard to make our food as presentable and edible as possible. Those unseen sous-chefs, patisseries, grill-men, sauciers actually have faces, lives and stories. Kitchen Confidential is a tell-all of how an ex-junkie, coke-head, pothead, alcoholic, food-snob made his bones in the fast world of good food, bad restaurants and off-hour debauchery.
Kitchen Confidential made me want to be a chef. To drop everything, learn spanish and enter the universe of oven-burned, blistered fingers, callused palms, truffle oil, fancy italian words, stainless steel blades, fresh fish, incredibly beautiful, delicious unaffordable food.
I've thought better of it though because I love to cook. Why ruin a good thing?

Fall: Football time!

SPORTS-MV-FB-22run
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

That's right, that time of year is here. I get to get out of the damn office for several hours at a time leisurely shooting my favorite sport to photograph; while my co-workers slave away in front of their computer screens.
My favorite time of year.

NEWS-SHOOTING-2

NEWS-SHOOTING-2
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

A "contractor" of hispanic descent went on a rampage with a machete Wednesday injuring another "contractor" and an old lady. When the police arrived, they cahsed him down the street where he apparently attacked an officer. The officer sprayed him with pepper spray which had no effect. Subsequently, the "contractor" was shot several times. He remains in serious condition at a local hospital.

My new poker table

I received my poker table I ordered from an Amazon.com seller.
It's exceeded my expectations. The table features metal supports to keep the table from sagging in the middle, giving it a really solid feel. It uses a high quality felt which won't pill-up later. Plus it's the perfect size for my room. I'm stoked and can't wait to break it in.

All for $179.48 shipped.

Movies of the Week

Here are some of the flicks I saw over the weekend.



Intacto
The first time I watched this film, I had no idea what to expect. I literally grabbed it off the Blockbuster shelf having only read the quotes on the box. I was immensely entertained.
I don't want to give away too much of the story, but it is roughly about luck. Some people have a gift that allows them to steal other people's luck. The more luck they steal, the luckier they become. Stylized, slick, beautifully photographed the director paints his unique vision of the world of gambling taken to extremes.

Watch this when you get the chance.


Crash
From the mind of Paul Haggis the writer of Million Dollar Baby, Crash is set in L.A., focussing on the relations and perceptions between ethnicities. Stereotypes and prejudices are explored, reinforced and destroyed in this less-than-uplifting story of individuals dealing with different individuals. It illustrates how everyone can be racist depending on who you ask. And how everyone can be right and wrong about each other.
Haggis coerces exceptional performances from the many big named stars who appear. Don Cheadle, Sandra Bullock, Larenze Tate, Matt Dillon, Brendon Fraser and even rapper Ludacris put forth successful, interesting appearances.

Assault on Precinct 13
I actually didn't make it through this movie. It sucked that bad. I made it about 20 minutes into it before I turned on Simpsons reruns.
It reminded me of Training Day, but a lot cheesier.
I advise you to skip this crap.

Gas

Last week I paid $52.25 for 17.658 gallons of gas. Tack on a $.35 ATM fee.
FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, ASSHOLES.

Aces no-good, Biloxi

Pate threw a poker night at his pad. $40 buy-in.
It was a short one for me. Two early flush suckouts led me to be short stacked when this happened (warning: bad beat story): I am in late position with Pocket Rockets (AA). An early player raises all-in. Air Force Eric in middle position raises all-in. Everyone else folds to me. "All-in" I call as I flip over my dominating hand. Early bettor flips over a pair of Jacks, Air FOrce Eric flips over pocket Kings.
Well, flop comes with a King and I get knocked out to the oooos and ahhhs of my fellow players. Oh well. A bad beat is better than a bad play.

Air Force Eric just got back from Qatar. Normally he should be in Biloxi, Mississippi. But since it was destroyed in the hurricane, he won't be able to go back for at least a couple months. So in the meantime, it's poker and malt whiskey for that kid. So as bad as it is in New Orleans, let's try and remember the unfortunate people in the neighboring areas which are also affected by the terror of Bin Laden's weather manipulation machine which he's had running in overdrive from his Pakistani underground complex.

A weekend with Paul

We started the weekend off with a round of golf at the Gilroy Golf Course. With our carts warmed up and loaded with plastic bag coolers of beer we tee'd off Paul's bachelorhood-is-over-weekend.
Immediately I shanked, hacked, sliced, hooked and whacked through, consuming an average of 1.5 beers per hole on the front 9. I also notably averaged 1 pee per every two holes. So that would mean I have a one-pee-per-every-three-beer (after a broken seal) capacity. Which is really below par for an ex-frat guy. At the end of our round of 18, our game had gradually disintegrated into a free-for all hack and putt; which is perfectly fine by me. By hole 17, I was thoroughly shithoused.
As we drove south toward Monterey I drifted into oblivion. By the time we arrived at the hotel, I was actually hungover. The rest of the night involved pitchers of beer and what the restaurant Knuckles calls "Sliders." I'm not sure what these things are, but they look like hamburgers only smaller and nastier. I cut out early from "dinner" to go heave in our bathroom, and nap off the residual beer funk. An hour later, I was up and at'm. Beer in hand.
Yup, the evening continued to devolve and despite having a 5am wake up call to go deep sea fishing, I didn't hit the sack until well after 3am.
So when 5am rolled around I was my chipper self. I happily dragged myself out of bed and crawled into my fishing clothes.

We loaded onto the Star of Monterey fishing boat. This crusty old boat took us south. Really south. 2.5 hours south. Past Pebble Bech, Carmel, Big Sur. After what seemed like an eternity, I woke up still sitting upright. It was time to cast our lines. The minute my sinker hit the water, we were getting bites. We pulled up Rock fish at an incredible rate. My burlap sack was filled in less than an hour.
Paul, who'd been anxiously awaiting the signal to drop our lines pulled up his third fish when the first wave of nausea hit him. Insta-vomit. His fishing trip was over and he spent the rest of the trip in the cabin, passed-out with his new best friend, "Mr. Blue Bucket."

Fishing is a brutal activity. Sure we throw back the little ones. But only after we hook them through their mouth into their skull, or through their eyeball. Then trying to remove the hook we rip off their jaw, or tear the lens off their eye, or pull the barbed hook through their face holes. Then toss their struggling bodies into a burlap sack to suffocate to death; only to be tossed back out onto the deck and spiked through their torso, head or gills and tossed back into a bloody bucket. THEN, they are layed out, still grasping for air, onto a cutting board to have their muscles filet'd off their bones and then tossed out into the ocean only to be torn apart and eaten by the awaiting gang of rabid seagulls tailing the boat.
Ah, the cycle of life. It's good to be at the top of the food chain.

That evening, after a long nap, we went over to Hefe's house where we had some really fresh fish tacos. Somehow food that we murdered to death with our bare hands is so much more enjoyable to eat than store-bought. These tacos were deeeelicious.

We did NOT go to a strip club that night, because there are NO strip clubs in Monterey. But we did manage to procure some entertainment despite that. Unfortunately for you, the details of that are to stay in the cramped quarters of my memory.
Let's just say this. None of us did anything that we weren't supposed to do.

Paul gets married on Sept. 17th. to Janice. May they live happily ever after.

Pablo's bachelor weekend pic

DSCF0084
Originally uploaded by !Habit Forming.

Deep Sea Fishing.
South of Carmel.

After cruising the Pacific Ocean for 2 hours along the Monterey Coast, past Pebble Beach golf course, Carmel, Big Sur, we dropped our lines to pull up a seemingly endless supply of fish. Here I hold an Olive Rockfish.
Rob keeps a photoblog on Flickr. You can see SOME of our Labor Day weekend events.

my weekend coming up

It's Paul's bachelor party weekend!
Golf Saturday somewhere in Gilroy. Hoteling it in Monterey. Then waking up early for deep sea fishing...
Wait, bachelor party weekend AND waking up early? WTF?!
And when do the strippers come into the picture? Strip clubs even? Hmf.

My intentions are to golf,... then drink a ridiculous amount of alcohol. Then try to NOT FAIL to go fishing. I'll let you know how that goes.

Wesley-intheface

Wesley-intheface
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

I snapped this photo just as this kid was trying to catch the bouncy ball... Right in his face.

herb-t-russell

herb-t-russell
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

Back in high school we used to cruise around town in Pete's old VW bus. We was affectionately named Herb T. Russell. After high school, the bus was sold and never seen again... Until now.

I caught a glimpse of ole Herb while driving around downtown. It was indeed Herb.

Wow. It brings back memories. Hazy, blurry, foggy memories.

Cancer and Mr. K

My good friends, Mark and Ingrid (brother and sister twins) found out about a week ago that their pop has advanced pancreatic cancer. The doctors gave him between 3-6 months to live.
I got a message from Mark that he needed help getting "supplies" for his dad. Apparently the nausea from chemo was getting bad, so they were willing to try anything to make him feel better. He asked if I could get him some weed. He had tried a couple joints and it seemed to really help. It got his appetite going and helped him sleep. So of course I did what I could and got him a sack. Ingrid even went out and bought him a bong, which was way too complicated for him. So they settled with getting him a pipe.

Here's a dude who up until this month was one of the healthiest old dudes I knew. An avid swimmer and runner, he was in excellent health. He'd been a pilot of United Airlines for many many years. His daughter Ingrid has since become a pilot and his son Mark, a Captain in the Marine Corps. Sadly, Mark will be leaving for Iraq in a couple weeks. He admits selfishly that he would prefer to be in Iraq rather than watch his pop die slowly at home. Luckily, Ingrid is taking a leave of absence to be at home and watch over mom and dad.

I asked Mark if there's any chance that he might survive. Though they will be trying to get a second opinion, the outlook is bleak. Apparently the cancer has spread throughout his abdomen and his pancreas is practically gone.

I hope the weed helps.

bad beat city

I tried to turn around my bad luck yesterday and played in two sit 'n gos.
I lost on the first one when some asshole caught his miracle inside straight draw on the turn. And lost the second one when my dominating AK fell when his dumbluck AQ caught a queen on the river. Another $10 down the tube.

bad bad playing

I played some poker this weekend. Surprise, surprise.
Actually it was a surprise because I played exceptionally SHITTY.
Nearly every session was a losing one, despite going into each game with a tremendous amount of confidence.
Saturday, we played short-handed tournaments. At first I dominated the game. Then lost a massive pot when my AQ was dominated by AK. From there it was all downhill. The second game, I came in second (not in the money.) BAH!
Sunday, everyone got sucked out on by Aaron. With two people all in (me included) he decided to call with his flush draw. I had 2 pair, and Luke had top pair. Of course the river brought a spade giving Aaron the winning suck. He sucked out on ScottO too sending him into a downward spiral of rage and bitterness. His agonizing tirade finally ended when I told him not-so-subtley, "Fucking, Get over it!"
Then miraculously he did, AND he apologized about getting heated up! WOW!

All in all my play, especially Sunday, was horrendous. I am not going to give up poker. Just bad poker.

San Jose to Guatemala

Our best friend Dana is officially leaving the country this week. After coming here to edumacate herself at UC Berkeley she decided to go and waste all that information she's learned in her third-world home country. ... BAH! I say.
We started the evening with cocktails. Then a drunken ScottO appeared at our house and instantly infused the occasion with an unhealthy dose of annoying negativity. That, spotted with a frequent outburst of "I'm wasted," was the soup of the day for us unfortunate souls.
As the evening progressed we made our way to Seven Bamboo, the local Karaoke Bar in Japantown.
Quickly my gf put me on the Karaoke list, much to my dismay. I was to sing "My Way." Immediately I subjected myself and Luke to a shot of Patron. When my turn came up, I reluctantly mumbled into the mic. The crowd reacted with, "LOUDER, LOUDER." I think the shot kicked in because suddenly I was wailing louder. Not quite "crooning" or even "singing"... I ended the song with a farewell announcement to everyone that our friend Dana was doing it "Her Way" by moving her ass out of the damn country and never coming back.

Meanwhile drunk-ass ScottO couldn't stop being annoying. You ever have a belligerent friend? The kind who you have to babysit EVERY time you go-a-drinking? Is he going to get himself in a fight? Is he going to insult your co-worker? Is he going to pass out AT the bar? Do I really have to deal with this fucker?

Later we cabbed it to the Temple Lounge. It was fucking hot in there. I had to piss, so I left the peeps at the bar to order our drinks. After waiting in the line, pissing and negotiating through the crowd, they had still not gotten their drinks. "Fuck it," I said, lets go to Dive Bar. As we walked out, we were suddenly jolted from behind as this huge islander busted past us. A commotion outside indicated a fight of some sort. Once out front of the bar, a bunch of dudes were chasing each other around outside. In the mix, ScottO was chasing the action up and down the street. He looked like a runt puppy chasing the pack around a dog park. "What the fuck are you doing, You idiot?" I asked. He had no reply but drunken gibberish.

As we strolled the 3-4 blocks to go to Dive Bar, I noticed the droves of people roaming the streets. Now, Santa Clara Street has always been a cruising strip. HoodRats from all over the south bay congregate here to flash their shiny rims, wear their gang colors, throw up their gang signs and be generally disrespectful toward women. But in the past couple years, the crowd has gotten more thuggish. With the fight outside Temple, and the thousands of thugs, downtown San Jose seems to have become MUCH more dangerous than when I went to school here. As much as we love San Jose, my GF actually suggested that we move to get away from the tough crowd. "Do we really want to raise kids here?" I could only reply, "No."
I can't help but have negative feelings towrad the gangsterization of downtown. I did see some college kids roaming around from bar to bar, but mostly young people who appeared to be gang-related were just standing around whistling and waving at carloads of underaged girls as they drove by.
The danger was probably perceived to be more than it actually was though. Because there were literally hundreds of cops in the middle of the road. Actually I was surprised to see so many gangsters. Starting shit on Santa Clara Ave. on Saturday night is not a good idea, you're basically begging to get arrested. They even had the patty wagon fired up and ready. One parking lot we passed was filled with probably a hundred cop cars. I'm sure they were ready for a full-blown riot.

We miraculously found a cab and made it home just in time to pass the fuck out.

See you in Guatelamexico Dana. That is unless the revolutionaries get me first.

a comeback

Poker last night.

Into the first game I was REALLY shortstacked. I was a hair from being knocked out. I'd been seeing 5-2 offsuit all night.
Scotty kept saying, "Joey's out. Joey's done... Somebody finish him off."
"Hell no. I'm coming after all you fucks." I said. "Just watch. Soon you guys are going to be saying, 'Wow Joe, you made a HUGE comeback.'"

A bit later, I got this amazing Hulk Hogan-esque rush of cards and aggression. Suddenly the final three players were on the ropes. I was making a run for the money! I caught Laurent trying to bluff and crippled him. A few hands later and it was down to me and my old nemesis: Chestnut. We battled heads-up for a while trading chip lead. Then in a blur of flying cards I caught the winning hand and took Chestnut's ass out. "Wow, Joey, you made a huge comeback!" He said. I called it.

In game 2, the rush continued. I bowled over the table taking control immediately with some big raises. It wasn't long before I knocked out ScottO. His anger rose from within to the point where I actually thought he might try and take a swing at me out of blind rage. He grabbed the nearest thing, which was a beer can, and squeezed this shit out of it. In his idiotic anger-outburst be managed to cut his finger with the torn edges of the can.
"What a dumbass." Someone said. It might have been me.

Luke and I went heads-up. I was raising almost every pot, winning some, losing some. We were pretty much even when this hand came up: I had 6-8 on the button. I raise, basically trying to get him to fold. He calls. Flop comes: 5-5-8. He checks, I bet. He thinks for a bit and goes all-in. Now I'm thinking he might have a 5, Or possibly an 8 with a big kicker. But he most likely has two overcards. Probably A-10 or A-9.
"I'm thinking I have you beat," I say. He shrugs. "I think you have two overcards."
He shrugs again.
"I call."
He flips over A-Q. The turn goes blank, river... blank. I win.

Bush's dumb war

Has anyone noticed that most of the anti-war protestors are middle aged ex-hippie women and their husbands? I photographed a vigil last night honoring Cindy Sheehan and her efforts to make Bush look the fool, and everyone who attended were ex-hippies, singing ex-hippie songs and war chants.
This must be like deja-vu for them. They must all be having flashbacks from 1969.

On one hand, I appreciate them being out there. Because frankly the war sucks balls. Bush really fucked up. We shouldn't be there in the first place, but we can't really leave and screw the Iraqis. So we are in a lose-lose situation. This was precisely the reason why Bush Sr. didn't finish the job the first time. No one wanted to relive Vietnam. I know a lot of people don't like comparing Iraq with Vietnam, but I fear that by not making the comparison, we will be doomed to repeat the outcome.
I think it's interesting that the only military man in Bush's administration, Colin Powell, opposed the war. And he's out. So what we have left is a bunch of political hawks who have no experience with war: Bush, Rice, Rumsfeld and Cheney. I can't believe that these are the people making war decisions. Politicians trying to run a war? Is this not Vietnam revisited?

poker chop and the Tourette's dude.

Poker last night.

I made it to the final three. One of my opponents was quite an interesting dude. When he introduced himself, he immediatley informed us that he has Tourette's Sydrome and that if he has occasional outbursts, not to freak out.
So throughout the evening he'd suddenly scream, "HEEEEYYY....!! FUUUCK!" and "YYOOOOUUU FUUUUUCCCCKKERRRRR!" and convulse. It wasn't a problem, we all talk like fucking truck drivers anyway. Plus, ScottO might as well have Tourette's with his infamous verbal outbursts, so we're used to it. But, it was startling when youd be in the middle of a conversation and someone blurts, "FFUUUCCCKKKEEENNN SHIT! .. HEEEEYY SHIT!" It was hysterical.
"OOOHHHH SSHIIIITT... FUUUUCK!"

Ten players at two tables of five. $20 buy-in. Tables merge after two players get knocked out. I was playing super tight. A couple times I let my opponents off easy by checking the river. But otherwise I was catching some real crap. Meanwhile Luke was accumulating some serious ammo. The party host was the first to get knocked out when his 9 got taken out by ScottO when he made two pair on the river. After a long time, ScottO was the next victim and was out in 9th place.
When the tables merged I was middle stacked with Luke holding a massive chipstack. He was doing his best to bully the table around. Eventually it was down to the final four. Somehow the timekeeper only raised the blinds a couple times, so us little stacks had plenty of playing time to pick our moments. Down to four and this hand comes up:
Luke, under the gun, calls. I get 8-2 in the big blind, check. Everyone else folds. Flop comes QQ2. I bet out. He immediately goes all in.
Dilemma. I know Luke has garbage. He could easily have a Q. But I'm pretty sure he's got shit. Even if he's got shit though, any other pair would beat me. "Fuck it, I know you don't have shit." I call. He flips 8-6o. Turn comes blank. River blank. I double up making me pretty close to even with the big stacks. "Good Call," He says. Soon after, the small stack gets taken out and we're battling on the bubble. Winner takes $140, Runner-up gets $60. So One of us is S.O.L.
I had a chance to take Luke out. He was short stacked. Preflop, I raised with AK on the button, putting him all-in. He calls and flips A-10. He catches a ten on the turn and doubles up through me.
After a long time, I had a great idea. Chop-chop? House says, "No chopping. Thems the rules. ... Unless the house gets his buy-in back. ... $180 three ways to the winners."
We discussed it thoroughly, and finally they said ok." Three winners.

All the while, "Heeeeyy FUck YOU!..."

Pokerroom.com

I switched over to playing at pokerroom.com. Essentially, it's the same software that Hollywoodpoker.com uses, and I believe they even share some of the same tables. The main difference is that Pokerroom.com doesn't have as low limits. Their lowest limit tables are $.25-.50, where Hollywood's are .15-.30 limits. Also, they have a 1st deposit bonus I'm trying to clear.

Anyway I just made a serious comeback at a shorthanded TURBO tourney. For a while there I was almost out of the game, but somehow managed to stick around til the final two. Heads-up, I took the lead after maybe 5 hands and won in two hands later when my A9 dominated his A8. He was surprised to say the least, because he'd had at least 5 times my chipstack.

I've been making some huge comebacks lately and I feel that playing these small tourneys slow to start and turning on the juice in the later levels in the way to play. Anyone can get unlucky in the later rounds but you have to put yourself in a position to win some damn money.

Good luck to me.

It might be time for me to head out to the casinos soon for some real face-to-face action. This online bullshit is getting on my nerves.

Wil Wheaton

If you haven't already, check out Wil Wheaton's blog. He is not only the former co-star of Star Trek the Next Generation, but he also happens to be one of the most popular and prolific "bloggers" out in the "blogoland."
His writing about his life with wife, work and kids are touching, hilarious, sentimental and profound without being too cheesy. The trials and tribulations of an actor/writer, amateur poker player is surprisingly interesting in a mundane, everyday, every man way.
Wil Wheaton is your everyday guy. Struggling to find a voice, a job, a life, and play in the World Series of Poker.

Tourney contender

I played in a $10 buy-in multi-table tournament on Hollywoodpoker last night. After languishing in the small stack for nearly 2 hours, and playing as tight as Pam Anderson's bikini, I finally made my move when the 20th place finisher got knocked out. 19th place pays $22, so I figure screw it, either I finish doubling my money or I go all the way. I pushed all-in twice and since the blinds were so big, it basically doubled me up. Suddenly I was medium stacked and a real contender to finish pretty high in the money. Players were getting knocked out left and right and before I knew it I was at the final table.
Having beat more than 250 players, I was pretty stoked to have made it this far.
The final table was a blur. All I know is it was suddenly down to the final three. I was short stack, and the other two guys were battling out and trading first place. I had AQ, and got him all in after the flop, with an Ace on the board. He flips A-10. Yes. The turns comes blank. River shows a ten, and I'm out. Third place and $260 richer!

All in all I think I played well. Probably a bit too tight in the beginning, but I turned the heat on at the crucial moment, and put myself in the position to be a contender. I have to admit it was a close call there for a while. I was very much out of chips when I started my rush. So I'm patting myself on the back, cashing out $100 and going up a limit. Hopefully the rush can continue.

poker

I've been playing a bunch of poker online lately. It's been an up and down journey, so I've learned that easy money, it's not. Sure, I'm up all-in-all; but my hourly rate must be absurdly low because of the ridiculously low limits I've been playing. Hey, it's a hobby not a career.
I will say that the vast majority of poker players online SUCK. I mean they really suck balls. Calling huge bets with shit hands like 8-5, or K-4, and miraculousy catching flushes or straights is the ultimate "bad-mood" inducer. But that's the discipline. If I can maintain my composure through these situations, I can control the rage within, and master my emotions. Or at the very least TRY.
So you see, poker is not just a game. It's not like darts or bowling. The skills acquired through playing poker can be applied in life. Risk vs. reward, calculated bluffs, emotional control, opponent reading, and advertising are all tools and skills which can be honed and applied to everyday life. Try applying your bowling skills to your sales job; Or apply your dart throwing skills to your high paying position as a pencil pusher or desk jockey. Forget about it.
Today, I'll encourage you to play some poker. But first do your homework. Learn the general concepts of odds-calculation and basic strategy and attack the play money tables at the poker site of your choice. Once you've dominated the play money domain, deposit $20-$30 into the account and try your hand at the 10 cent tables. I guarantee with a little patience, and perseverance, you too can punk the little bitch on the other side of your monitor.

Good Luck.

Million Dollar Crybaby

I watched Million Dollar Baby finally.
Pretty good flick.
Though they shoulda called it Million Dollar Crybaby, because my GF bawled through the entire second half of the movie. That's an hour and a half of straight niagra falls. I'd give it a "rent-it" rating. The story was good, Swank was awesome, same with Freeman, but Clint's acting is lacking; and most of all, what ruined it for me was the hype. Of course it got hyped with the Oscars, and everyone at the water cooler was talking about it. So by the time I watched it I was expecting Raging Bull (which is on my top ten).
All in all it was very depressing. I felt like shit after watching it. Sort of like, no matter how well I do in life, someone could cold-cock me while my back is turned and I might snap my neck and be stuck in a goddamn hospital be with tubes sticking in every orofice.
Bleak.
Then my poor GF will be sitting next to me in the hospital reading me weird Irish Jig songs. Then she'll have to kill me, but instead of adrenaline, she'd have use something cheaper like Drano, because we're so poor.

How miserable.

Odoggie dog

Odoggie dog
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

I have this picture on my computer desktop. I can't stand looking at it, because it makes me want to go home and hug Odie.

Look at that pathetic mug... (sob)...

Heat

It's f-ing hot.
My house feels like a convection oven.
I have an ice pack strapped to my head right now.
It's ridiculous.

shorthanded

I entered a $5 shorthanded (5 players) sit & go tournament (single table) and won it last night. Cashed a whole $17 baby!

Small stakes I know, but after playing the REALLY small stakes (.15-.30 lmit), a $17 win seems like a lot.

New Melones Houseboat

The heat would've been unbearable if I wasn't submerged for the majority of the time. With the lifevests wrapped around groin like adult diapers, we floated near the houseboat, bobbing happily in the water, with only our beer and our heads exposed to the sweltering heat. It was all we could do to keep from melting under the 108 degree air.
We had 2 waverunners, 2 ski boats, the houseboat with a hot/cool tub and a seemingly limitless supply of tequila and beer. That and a potato-gun made this weekend excursion an ideal situation to escape the realities of civilization.
This was pure redneck fun. I was loving it. At least it would've been redneck fun except for the hippety-hoppety I was blasting from my iPod.
I made my first attempt at wakeboarding this weekend. At first it seemed as if this sport wasn't for me. My first 4 attempts resulted in a nose full of lake water. On my fifth attempt at getting up I finally was atop the water, skating unsteadily. I crossed the wake and ambitiously pulled myself toward the wake in a ridiculous attempt to catch air. I was greeted by more than a nose full of water this time as my face slapped the water at 20 mph. "One more time," I said as Mike pulled the Ski Centurion around. "Go!" He accelerated and as I began losing my balance I heard a familiar pop as my shoulder was yanked out of its socket. "OK, I'm good, that's it." I called it a day.
Blasting across the water at 50 mph on the waverunner was a blast. We took turns making the glassy waters rough, doing donuts and flooring the throttle. In the wide expanses of the lake, cruising on the waverunners was remarkably liberating.

More beer followed.
Then some Morton's Tri-Tip.

Day Two was more of the same as we traded waverunner for more diaper lounging. The sun was intense and despite constant reapplication of 36 spf, my shoulders were a toasty red, nice sunburn.

As night fell, someone decided it was time to play some poker. What a good idea. Steadily the players knocked each other out one by one... guess who made it to the final two. Yours truly and ScottO. On the first hand of heads-up play, Scott O went all-in with A3o. I instantly called with A4 of spades. The flop brought two spades and the turn brought another making me the New Melones Poker champion.

Houseboating was fun. Do it if you get a chance. And if you happen to own a ski boat, let me know when you are skiing, I could use a chance to redeem myself.

EXPLOSION-reporters

EXPLOSION-reporters
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

This is a week late, but it happens to be the biggest news to hit Los Altos in a long time.

A man was trapped under the rubble when his house literally blew up. His two children narrowly escaped the explosion with only minor injuries. It took 3 hours for firemen to rescue him from the wreckage.

Loooong weekend to come

Today is my Friday.
Tomorrow we'll be heading out to Lake New Melones to celebrate Chestnut's 30th with a long weekend houseboating, waterskiing, jet skiing, catching some rays, swimming and binge drinking.
YEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHAAAAAAAAA! This is going to be some real redneck fun and I can't wait.

Freeeeerooooolll

I stayed up late last night playing in a freeroll tournament on Hollywoodpoker.com. Through a field of more than 250 players, I managed to hang in there till the end. I finished in first place winning a whopping $10! WOOO HHOOOOOO! I can buy lunch now!

BTW, Hollywoodpoker.com is filled with fish. Along with a chance to play against such huge stars as James Woods as well as B-listers like Michael Woods (whoever that is) the donkeys at Hollywood can be easy money.

weekend

This weekend was mostly work.
Saturday I attended an awards banquet in which my newspaper won a second place prize for sports coverage. That's all fine and dandy, but the only thing I contributed to those pages were that I took the pictures for the section. So I drove an hour ($20 in gas), got lost for another 30 minutes, paid $3.25 to get money from the hotel ATM, paid $6 for parking to watch a slide show.
In the photo categories which I entered I won a measly honorable mention for a sports photo I shot. I won nifty "certificate"... Wooop-dee-doo.

Sunday I worked some more.
The Los Altos Arts and Wine festival was going off as per usual, but unlike every other year I've gone, I didn't get to drink a single beer. Photos only. And it was a hot one. Sweltering. Otherwise it was par for the course. Moms, Dads, Gramps... and art, or should I say crafts.
I followed this assignment up with a killer freelance gig. $500 for just over 3 hours of work.
Fundraisers are interesting to work. Because everyone there is rich. At least rich enough to dish out $200 just for a seat to the event. On top of that, theres the silent auction where rich peeps purchase wine for even MORE than they're worth. And then a live auction where they spend a SHITPILE more than the product is worth. But as great as these events are for the blind kids the money will go to help, it really destroys my self-worth. Here's a group of people who are willing to drop $5000 for a case of wine. Is that fucking ridiculous? Or $20,00 for a night on the town...
To those people willing to drop $1000 for a bottle... FUCK YOU.
That bottle will be gone in 20 minutes. With my friends, a bottle would last 3 minutes tops. But $1000 would last me at least a couple days. And $10,000 would last me months, or provide me with a top-of-the-line camera setup which will allow me to make a living for years

OK, fine. I'm jealous. So fucking what?

3rd of July at Utz's

I've been housesitting for my best buddy's mom for a couple months and I decided to throw a party.
It's a quaint home. Quaint in the Los Altos Hills way. That is, it's large, with a huge deck , swimming pool, pool house, and a 180 degree view of the bay area. Boo-yeah.
Swimming, cards, music, dancing, beer, beer, beer and more beer and some conversation later it was fireworks time. From here we were able to see at least 4 different fireworks shows. They aren't quite as exciting from that distance, but we all contributed to an ear-shattering rendition of the Star-Spangled-Banner anyway.
We then unleashed the full fury of one box of "safe-sane-and-weak" poppers (fake fireworks) into the air and at Luke. "Dance Bitch Dance!" Luke abliged with some sort of hilarious Irish Jig.
We moved the party indoor and played several rounds of Kings, an old favorite drinking game. Til, Daniel tried to leave, the table burst into a top-of-the-lungs version of, "NaNaNaNaa, NaNaNaNaa, HEY HEY! GOOOODDBYYYYEE!" With middle fingers raised and waving. I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

The party was a success, and I think everyone had a great time.
I know I did.

Party college style

We went to a friend's friend's house for a party Saturday. It was essentially a college party.
It was interesting because since college I've gone to very few "college-style" parties. Nowadays our "parties" usually will be attended by at least a couple married couples, probably a couple babies, a bunch of wine, possibly a board game some good food, and some quality beers. I guess we're starting to act like grown-ups. Kinda.
This party was a real throwback. 3 kegs, a bunch of ragged dope-smoking, acne-faced 18 year-olds, a DJ, hoochie-mamas, crooked baseball caps, red party cups, outdoor urination, and cops at the front door. Ah, just like the ole days.
I had a good time though. We drank our share of their beer, had some very funny conversations with some teenagers eager to be hazed like fraternity pledges.
When cops finally busted the party up, I almost had the urge to jump the fences.

Thinking back on my early college days; we were bad, bad kids.

Liam McEneaney Experience

While surfing I found this blog post:

MY 100% ORIGINAL FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND POEM
by Liam McEneaney

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints.
Other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life
When I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord, "You promised me, Lord,
That if I followed you, you would walk with me always.
But I noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
There have only been one set of prints in the sand.
Why, When I have needed you most, you have not been there for me?"
The Lord replied,
"The times when you have seen only one set of footprints
Is when I carried you."

Then I replied, "Yeah, but why didn't you carry me more? I mean my whole life was pretty bad and I could have used more of an assist."
And God replied, "What am I your mommy? I'm a very busy guy."
And I looked on the beach and I noticed that there was a point where there were footsteps and the outline of a body being dragged through the sand, and I said, "What the fuck is that?"
God looked at me and said, "Uh, yeah. You were drunk."
And I said, "No fucking way. I'd remember being that drunk."
And God said, "Okay, look, I didn't want to have to say this, but you could stand to lose a few pounds. I can't be carrying you all over the place if you keep eating Pop Tarts like they were communion wafers."
And I said, "Pop Tarts are healthy, they got fruit in th middle."
And God rolled his eyes and said "Whatever."
So I said, "Look, I don't know what kind of wacko goes carrying people around when they're asleep, but as far as I'm concerned, you can go to hell."
And then I looked further down the beach and saw elephant tracks, alongside which looked like the comically oversized prints of clown shoes.
But when I turned to ask God about them, he was gone.
Asshole.

Hilarious

Comics childhood

I admit it.
I'm a comic dork. What can I say?
It was Superman, Spiderman, the X-men, and Batman who taught me right from wrong, good vs. evil, heroics vs. villainy. I suppose comics improved my reading skills; and comics DEFINITELY improved my artistic skills.
I have one vivid memory of wanting to learn to draw. I was at a banquet party with my parents at the Sheraton near SFO airport. All the kids were playing in some room. There was an older kid there. He was doodling pictures of super heros. I disticly remember him drawing me a picture of Spiderman hanging upside down from a web. He gave it to me. I was stoked! After that I would spend ALL my freetime and all the miniscule minutes between homework and classwork trying to replicate that dude's drawing. I was probably in first grade or so. Just a tike. After that I immersed myself into any comic book I could find. I was influenced by artists such as Simon Bisely, Marc Silvestri, Mike Golden, John Romita Jr., John Byrne, Jim Lee, John Buscema, Art Adams, George Perez and even Bill Sienkiewicz.

I know what you're thinking... Who the fuck are they? Who cares? The point is I am into comics. The fantasy, the art, the creativity, the violence, and especially the female hero's huge boobs.

So on that note:
I watched Batman this weekend and was thoroughly impressed. It was established eary that Batman Begins needed to be REALLY good. After Joel Schumacher's bullshit version of Batman and Robin nearly ruined the entire franchise, someone did a good thing by bringing on Christopher Nolan (director of Memento) to direct this version starring Christian Bale.
Sure this film has it's faults. Like Qi Gong Jinn's appearance as a Jedi ninja... who the fuck is that??? I've read a million Batman comics and never has a Jedi appeared in any of them. So, that sucked. But otherwise this movie is scary, dark, gritty, funny, actio-packed and emotional (my gf actually cried when Bruce Wayne's parents were killed). The villains are quite villainous, the gadgets fantastic, Gotham menacing...

Catch this one. It's worth the ten bucks.

Golf

I played some golf with my pops for Father's Day. I haven't played golf in a couple years, literally. I wasn't expecting much from my play. By the time I was at San Jose Municipal Golf Course, I was downright nervous. But though I hadn't whipped out the Big Bertha in years, the minute I stepped up to the tee, I was ready. One relaxed swing and blammo, that ball took off... and made an abrupt right turn. Actually it was a slight right turn. Playable.
I had a decent day. Made a couple pars, several bogeys, many double bogeys, even more triple bogeys, but only lost count of my strokes on only two holes, not bad if you ask me. So in all, I have no idea what my score was. I can tell you I didn't lose a single ball. For me, that's not too shabby.

backpacking season is here.

Since backpacking season is here NOW,.. and We've already cancelled one trip, I'm posting this photo of me on top of the Emigrant Wilderness as a reminder to get outside.





Plus, my arms look damn good in this pic.

Stroker on the town.

Check out Stroker's photos from this week.
An excellent slice-o-life of the pretty people of San Francisco.

mom-joe

mom-joe
Originally uploaded by Joe_13.

Here's a pic of my mom, my brother and me back in the good ole days.

Too bad our musical talents never materialized. I'm sure my pops eventually destroyed that little piano. I distinctly remember making quite a racket with that thing.

Life Preserver

I don't know what branch of the military she's in,... but military life preservers are funnnnky.

Downing Street Memo

Though my conservative friends are basically in denial about the shadiness of Bush, here is an article from the "biased" mainstream news.
The Downing Stree Memo gets fresh attention

Hey can I get an UNBIASED news source list from you conservatives? (lemme guess Fox News is on that list). Since CBS, NPR, NBC, ABC, BBC, MSNBC, NYT, LA Times, Washington Post, and The Economist are all "liberal-media" what the fuck can I read to get the truth (that's sarcasm, genius)?

Debo's bachelorhood ends

When Scan picked me up from the Phoenix Airport, Paul instructed him to "Do not pass Go" and go directly to his apartment in Scottsdale. He insisted we pre-party before we head out to the James Hotel to meet up with the rest of the bachelor party.
By the time we got to the hotel, I was a bit fuzzy around the edges. But I did know one thing about Arizona already: It was fucking hot. Actually as soon as I got to the pool, I learned something else: Arizona chicks are all ridiculously hot too.

We lounged at the pool for a while under the blazing sun and the hotel's mist-sprays. After I had made my first purchase of beer from the bar, (which was $6, for an Amstel Light) I was kindly informed of the multiple-cases of beer at Clint's poolside room from which I was invited to indulge myself. That room became our "bar" for the rest of the weekend.

That night we headed to the Kona Grill. Of course it was packed to the brim with beautiful people. Rhinehart was suddenly being given shit for his ID. Rhinehart is the unfortunate recipient of a DUI and had since had his license taken away. So the manager says, "He can stay and hang out, but he can't drink, since we only accept out-of-state DRIVERS LICENSES... not Identification cards."
Of course we were blown away. "WHAT?!" We have dinner reservations for 17 people. We are all borderline alcoholics! We were about to drop some serious coin in this joint. Reluctantly, Rhinehart went to the booth and sat quietly.
"This is bullshit," I said and ordered two shots of Patron Silver. I passed one over to Rhinehart and said. "Fuck it dude. Drink it." He took the shot quickly and silently.
Two minutes later the manager comes to our table.
"The bartender just told me you ordered two patron shots, and you gave it to your friend. You guys are out."
Fuck you very much asshole.
Luckily for us, right next door at Z Tejas Grill welcomed us and our money happily. They let us all drink and everything. Plus, the food was incredible. I ordered pork medallions on mashed potatoes, which were perfectly cooked and tasted unbelievable.

After dinner we did what any bachelor party groups do. We hit up the strip club. A $20 ride in a Town Car took us to Christie's Cabaret. Christies resembles a Vegas style monster strip club. Fancy schmancy and all that. The girls were hot. The drinks expensive. Lap dances all around.

Day two:
We hoofed it to the Breakfast Club. Now this place proves that chicks are hotter in Arizona. The waitresses here were as good-looking as the strippers at Christie's. One looked like a 20 year-old Elizabeth Hurley. The hostess could've been her hotter sister. Oh yeah,.. the food was good too.
The rest of the morning was essentially a ghetto tour of the Scottsdale/Tempe/Phoenix area. I rolled with Paul while he ran errands around town, met some of his shady friends. We then headed back to the Hotel pool.
The rest of the day is hazy. I do remember laying out in the sun with a Stoli-water-and-lime on rocks. NWA was on the ipod. Natural Light in the cooler (because we're high rollers like that) and really hot waitresses delivering waters to us.

We went to the sushi joint RA that night. and the plan was to go to Suede afterwards. But when I got in the cab from the restaurant, Butz, Paul and Scan decided they wanted to go to Skin instead. Skin (I couldn't find a link) is a strip club in case you haven't guessed. It is significantly smaller than Christie's, but the talent was much better in my opinion. Butz literally fell in love with one dancer in particular who's time he monopolized for at least an hour and a half (or however many songs $200 would buy). Fired up, Paul dropped two stacks of ones on me to distribute to the dancers and promptly ran home to his fiance (for some lovin' no doubt)... Scan and I watched as the beautiful brunette with perfect (real) breasts held Butz lovingly. We laughed our asses off as he gently stroked her fingers and caressed her hair and whispered "I Love You" to her. We left him there and took off to Suede with just enough cash for the cab ride.

Suede was hopping. Tons of chicks. All of them as hot as the strippers we were just watching, but not as naked. After a few hours of drinking and I was done for.

So Arizona proved to be an excellent town for a bachelor party. There must be 15 strip clubs and a million bars in the Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tempe area. If you hate hot chicks and hot weather,... stay away from Arizona.

Masta Ace

I'm giving props to Masta Ace.

Since ScottyO burned me a copy of Masta Ace's A Long Hot Summer, it's been going almost non-stop on my ipod. His lyrical style is slow and smoothe and is devoid of the hip-hop phenomena called "hooks" or what I call "chanting." (Chanting is when a "rap" group finds a lyric and repeat it in unison a million times in a row.) Anyway, Masta Ace's album doesn't have it. What Summer does have is heart. He lays down soulful rhymes on ultra-smooth beats, without using pop-hop cliches. It's lyrics are also meaningful and darkly funny, which is a refreshing change from what we might be used to hearing on the hippety-hop stations. While super-stars like "Ludacris", "Little John" and the "Ying-Yang Twins" the deliver essentially meaningless, jibberish song after song, Masta lays down thoughtful narratives and offers advice and introspection on the industry.

excerpt from "The Ways"

Listen.
Life in rap is like a knife in the back...
This life attracts some of the trifleist cats...
Niggas getting deals with pipes and bats...
If that don't work, than they strike with gats...
I know a few dudes got label deals,
'cause they crew pack steel like Navy Seals.



A Long Hot Summer is in the same vein as the most soulful of rap. Think Tribe Called Quest meets Wu Tang meets Biggy. Check it out.

Deep Throat

Mr. Felt


Well if anything, it shows that one honest person can bring down a big time crook.
The Bush administration could use a 'Deep Throat" if you know what I mean...and not in the same way The Clinton administration needed one...

Adderall XR

A buddy of mine is a sales rep for Adderall XR.
Adderall is an amphetamine based ADD/ADHD medication. I suppose it works in a similar was as Ritalin. In other words, it is a stimulant which has an opposite effect on hyperactive kids.
There has been some controversy as to whether this drug is dangerous or not. Essentially it's a legalized speed. Obviously abuse is probably rampant with Adderall. To combat this, Shire Pharmacuticals, the makers of Adderall developed Adderall XR, which is basically a time-released version which cannot be crushed and snorted like the tablet form (Adderall).
So now, my friend isn't only schlanging this drug, but he is a user. Since being diagnosed with the increasingly common disorder, he has been able to give first hand recommendations of the drug.
Now I'm not sure that I have ADD though I definitley display the symptoms. I've been buggin him to give me a sample. Mainly because I feel it might give me an edge during my poker game.
He adamantly denied my requests because, "You don't need it dude, you don't have ADD."
My response is always, "If I don't need it neither do you! If it helps you concentrate and perform better, than it would help me too."..."Gimme some."
I argued my point that if he is prescribed it, and it makes him a better more productive employee, then it must be able to make me better too. So he brings in a survey. After "grading" it he says.
"According to this survey, Adderall would benefit you quite a bit."

Now I'm really wondering. What if I had this drug growing up? Would I have gotten better grades? That wouldn't be difficult to do. Would I have been a more accomplished student/photgraher/artist. Could I have done more with my life?

What if I were to try it now? Would I suddenly be able to dominate the poker tables. Would I instantly be a more motivated photographer? Would I be more successful? If it could help me, couldn't it help EVERYONE? What would a drug like this do to people who are already successful?

One co-worker compared this drug to steroids. It is essentially a performance enhancing drug. Some kids are allowed to take it and some aren't. Does this give the drugged kids an advantage? I'd say it does. Super-competitive parents might consider putting their kids on Adderall regardless of whether they need it or not. Then it begs the question: What is NEED?

The Sims

In an effort to curb my poker addiction, I've purchased a computer game.
The Sims is touted to be one of the best games ever made, so they say. OK, so it lacks a key ingredient to most games I like. Violence.
What the hell right? I need to kill some time with some kind of hobby. And since most of my poker buddies have pussed out of my weekly game, I need to find another THING to occupy my time while the woman is at class.
The first Sim I created is dead. Big Trouble died in a kitchen fire. His cooking skills were so poor that his attempt to make himself dinner ended tragically with his death.
His replacement, Izzy A. Loader has taken up the reigns and his well on his way to becoming a hardened criminal. He started as a pickpocket and has since moved up to the title of "bookie." My hope is for Izzy to become the Tony Montana of the Sim universe.

So far, The Sims has proven to be very addictive, despite it's lack of blood, guts, explosions, or anything else that usually makes for a good video game.

Australian drug smuggler gets 20 years

She was sentenced to 20 years. Wow. I guess that's good. Better than death I suppose.
Or is it?

I can't help but wonder why she would attempt to smuggle buds to Indonesia. If Andre's comments are true, and weed is really easy to get there, then why would she risk it? Does she look like someone who would intentionally smuggle 9 lbs. (aka "a shitpile") of weed?

I mean seriously 9 lbs.?! That's pretty much her entire surfboard bag FULL of dope. A tiny little sack of kind buds is enough to smell up an entire room with that odoriforous skunky funk. What would 9 lbs. smell like?

Won one

Dylan's weekly tourney. $50 buy-in, 10 players.

Whew, is all I can say on this one. I made it to the final two and we decided to split the winnings.

poker gibberish
It was a very close call for me on several occasions. Actually, I should've been the first one out but delivered a horrible beat to the guy on my right. I went all in short-stacked holding Ace-Ten. He called immediately and flipped Cowboys. DOH! I got up, ready to go home a poor loser. But then a miracle river card. ACE!
It kinda sucks doubling up like that but screw it, right?
Later, I doubled up again with I made trip tens on the river after my opponent made top pair on the turn.
The turning point came when the blinds were 300-600:
I started raising a lot of hands, probably 3 out of 4 hands. Since they were all good players, and played really tight for the most part, I was sure I could steal a ton of blinds. At this point we were basically on the bubble and everyone wanted to get in the money. Here, aggression is key. Eventually the blinds ate my opponent's stacks to the point where they had to go all-in. Luckily the cards started coming and I really put the heat on.

I felt I could've won this entire thing. But since at the end the stacks were pretty identical, we decided to chop.

I'll take it!

New toy

I bought a new toy.



So now I can be one of the cool kids. All the cool kids have one of these.
Right now I'm listening to "Got to give it up" by Marvin Gaye. I have to restrain myself from getting my groove on right here in the office.
I had to upgrade the computer with more ram, a USB 2.0 PCI card, upgrade a bunch of software...
I also purchased the Itrip FM tuner... and I need to buy a car charger,... and a protective skin, and some songs and a new set of good headphones... damn will it ever end?

I can just hear Steve Jobs as I dish out the cashola to pay for all this shit. "Ipod, a real money pit! These things are genius."

speeding ticket

I got a speeding ticket over the weekend.
Just what I need.
I was picking up my GF from a party in Berkeley and took a jello shot just before we left so it was a minor miracle that I didn't get a DUI. When he pulled me over, it was clear by the way he was sniffing the air in my car that he smelled alcohol.
"Have you had anything to drink?" He asked me.
"None." I lied instantly.
"I smell alcohol sir, are you sure you haven't had anything to drink?"
"It's her." I pointed to my GF sitting shotgun.
She shrugged embarassingly, "Sorry."

Luckily somehow he didn't notice that my license is expired because I have an outstanding speeding ticket from like 2 years ago.

Whew.

Amy keeps thanking god that it wasn't worse. I say, it wasn't god. It was my amazing skills.

Bad, bad, bad, bad cards - It makes me feel so bad

This losing streak I'm on is getting ridiculous.
I haven't had a winning session at the cardroom in a very long time. I was hoping to break it today.
Sadly, today was illustrative of the last month of poker. Not one playable hand. Actually, one playable hand... the last one. It was pocket kings; I got so excited, I couldn't throw it away. Some bastard drew out a flush holding 5-6.

Bah.


_

Lion mutilates midgets

Oh my god...

Absolutely UN-believable.
Someone should definitely have snuck a video camera into this one.





OK,... I also am reading this story is fake...

Stupid internets

You have to know when to Hold 'Em at local poker clubs

I published a poker story in the newspaper I work for.
It's a "newbies trip to the poker room" story for our travel section.

Here's the link to it.

Dylans-poker

$50 tourney, no-rebuys, 10 players.

Sucked out on AGAIN. This time in sixth place.
Everyone flods to the small blind who calls. Shortstacked, I raise pre-flop with AQo from the big blind. He calls.
Flop comes: T78 rainbow. He checks. I go all-in. He reluctantly calls; shows 5-6. Turn comes... a fucking 9 of spades shows up, giving him a straight and me a flush draw. I miss a spade on the river and go home a LOOOOOOOOSSSEEEEEERRRR.

Another $50 down the friggin' toilet.

FIRE - San Jose garage

When my buddy Dave saw a column of smoke from the freeway, we decided to go check it out. Turns out some dude's garage had exploded. It had nearly burned to the ground by the time I had gotten there. While the rest of the neighborhood had to stay behind the yellow police line, I whipped out my press pass and walked directly up to the fire.



Possible arson, the battalion chief tells me. But basically its still under investigation.

Backpacking in the Cache Creek

Went backpacking for an overnighter this weekend. We drove our asses all the way to Ukiah, pass Clear Lake to Cache Creek. We hiked along the Redbud trail hoping to make it the 7.5 miles to Wilson Valley. Much to our dismay, the river was much to engourged to cross and we were resigned to make camp a mere 3 miles from the trail head, at the Cache Creek river. As much as I would have liked to cross, it was rushing much to fast to make an attempt. I guarantee we would've been swept away by the current.
The scenery was mediocre. Especially since we gotten somewhat accustomed to the dynamic and intensely spectacular views of the Sierra Nevadas, rolling oaken hills have become so,... blah.

We spent the afternoon lounging around the camp. We lounged somemore before we lounged again. Then I took a nap.

The flys were relentless. I should make a note that as much as I love backpacking; I despise bugs; Flying insects with teeth in particular. Fuck them. They finally subsided at around twilight time. But of course, that's when the mosquitos came out for their feast of backpackers du jour.

The ticks were in effect too. They are probably the most disgusting critters I've experienced in the outdoors. I applied the DEET liberally to dissuade attacks from these little fuckers, but my dog Otis wasn't so lucky. I pulled at least 5 ticks from him last night. I expect to find more later. It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about them.

Here's a pic of them:


At least the weater was nice. Warm all day,cool, and comfortable at night. I would've slept well if it wasn't for dreams of ticks crawling in my ears.
When I woke up I actually found a tick crawling on my hand. I promptly murdered it with a bic lighter.

Memorial day weekend. We're going camping. I intend to go somewhere where the ticks and poison oak are not. I'm resigned to the fact that mosquitos and flys are literally everywhere in the world, so I'll just have to endure. But the ticks,.... NEVER.

Poker: Dylan's

Poker report:
$50 buy-in freeze-out tournament. 9 players. Dylan's house.

This was the tightest game I've played in yet. Almost NO action for the first 5-6 levels. Everyone was folding to the blinds or a small raise would fold the table. BOOOOORRRIIINNNGGG!

Then, I lost half my stack with 7's to my opponent's AJ pre-flop. Then redeemed myself when I doubled up with pocket rockets. I was back in it. I stole a bunch of hands later until it was 4 handed. On the bubble, I caught pocket 4s. Flop came 4-6-3... I slowplay check. He checked. Turn came, 10. He bets out. I go all in. He instantly calls with a turn card flush. I go out a loser on the bubble.

Steaming, I proceed to lose another $20 in a side no-limit cash game.
A player to my right goes all in. I have AJd (ace-jack of diamonds) and go all-in. The player behind me goes all-in. Right, A9o... Left, pocket tens,... Me AJ diamonds. The flop misses me entirely and I lose another $20.

FUCK.

I am the worst loser.

Sriracha

I'd like to give it up for Sriracha.
You can find this delicious spicy sauce at any good Vietnamese restaurant. Please note that this stuff is highly addictive. My girlfriend had a taste of this stuff when we first got together and ever since, she's been hooked. She puts it not only in her pho,and rice plates, but also on her pizza, burritos, tacos, burgers and sandwiches.
I'm not sure what it is about the sauce that makes it so good. I think it's the crack they put in it.

Whatever it is, We love it, and wouldn't change a thing about it.

Return to Indonesian Express Palace

Wow, that'd really suck.

I really hope she's innocent, because you'd have to be a real dumbass to try sneaking in 6 pounds of weed into Indonesia.
Haven't we all seen Brokedown Palace or Return to Paradise or Midnight Express.

Note to self: Don't try sneaking 6 pounds of weed into a Islamic Country.

A Marine's story

I met with a close friend of mine from High School last week.

Mark is a captain in a Marine Corps artillery unit; second in command of 7 howitzers. He was directly involved in the battle of Fallujah delivering shells into the war torn town during the battle. He recalled some incidents.
One day, he was walking across the base when he heard a rocket. He took a knee as the rocket hissed over his head. "It makes a sound like sizzling bacon," he described. It landed with a boom about 100 meters away. He made his way toward a building and as he entered it, he heard another rocket approach and detonate just outside, where he had just took a knee. The explosion rocked the building. Quickly he ran outside and saw a large metal door blown into pieces by the rocket. An injured Marine lay bleeding in front of him. He quickly ran over, and along with another soldier, assessed the injured man's wounds. A puddle of blood pooled around the marine's head. As they lifted his head to look at the wound, they noticed the blood coming from his ears, nose and side of his face. He unbuttoned the injured man's shirt and ran his hands over his body, checking for blood. He found a shrapnel wound on the man's side. Just then medics and other soldiers ran over and took the injured man to the infirmary. They were sure he didn't make it.
Another close call came when they were travelling between Fallujah and Mosul in a mile long convoy one night. Watching the road through the green glow of his night vision goggles, he rode in the third Humvee from the front of the convoy, sitting shotgun. Suddenly, he heard a pop, followed by a flash of red. The car didn't get blown upward, but was engulfed in a fireball. Flames shot across the front and side of the car, and the sound like someone throwing handfuls of rocks at the side of the car. The explosion blew out a tire and smashed the headlights but, the armored Humvee was intact. The driver slammed on the gas and continued on. Immediately Mark thought the engine had blown up, but when a call from the rear of the convoy reported a large explosion and requested a casualty report, he knew he had been a victim of an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). Later, an unmanned aerial surveillance vehicle spotted a white pickup truck rapidly leaving the area. A while later the Marines raided the house where the pickup stopped and found evidence such as detonators, and explosives and arrested the suspect. He later inspected the damage on his armored Humvee. Besides the blown wheel, the car was marked up from shrapnel, some of it still sticking out of the armor. Had the Humvee not been armored, he surely would have been hit by shrapnel.

Capt. Mark will be returning to Iraq in September to complete his second tour.

Warehouse poker

Eager for some action last week, I sent Dylan an email, "My Thursday night poker game has evaporated, where's the action at?" He called me back about a $55 buy-in, with buy-ins. It was being held in this warehouse in Sunnyvale. He said the competition should be pretty soft. What the hell.
The warehouse was a screenprinting shop... 3 poker tables were set up. 27 players were in.

The format:
$55 buy-in, $30 unlimited rebuys for the first 5 levels, with one $20 add-on at the beginning of level 6. 20 minute levels, starting with 1500 in chips.

The game started rough for me, and my first rebuy came when everyone folded to me on the button. Big Blind calls. Flop comes J-8-8. BB checks, I go all in. Dumb move. He calls instantaneously and shows J-8. He flopped a full-boat. BASTARD.
"REBUY!"

Another rebuy later, we are down to the final add-on. $20 buys you 3000. This add-on is a no-brainer, so it is essentially a must have. 5 minutes into the "real" game (no-add-ons or rebuys) I go on a mad-rush. A string of good hands alloows me to eliminate 4 players in a row, and quickly we are consolidated to a final table. Patience gets me to the final four when a local pro named Pat offers a suggestion. "How about a chop?" The self proclaimed "chopologist" suggest a 4 way chop giving the chip leader (Dylan) $800, and the rest of us, (with even amount of chips) $320. We accept.

Part of me regrets not battling it out. Even though Dylan had a massive chip advantage, probably about 4 to 1 against us. I feel I had a chance to make a comeback. I spent $135 getting to this point so I guess clocking $320 walk-home isn't too bad.

Overall this operation seems like a pretty neat setup. They not only provide a relatively safe playing environment, plenty of chips, tournament direction, tables and chairs, but they actually sell custom poker tables, rent poker equipment, and apparently custom print t-shirts as well.

They also hold a Sit 'n Go Saturday all-day poker day. Hopefully they'll get that going again so I can get in on some more action.

P.S. Thank you Jebus for allowing the losing streak to end.

I told you so

I'd like to point out an article which will contradict conservative's view that Bush's terror policies is reducing the threat of terror.

I guess an "I told you so" would be pointless. Just like the "I told you so" about Saddam's WMDs were pointless.

Sorry. I'll digress from politics now.

Sneaky Leaker

OK, I'm admit I can be a lazy SOB sometimes.
Not nearly as one friend of mine inparticular. Let's call him "O."
'O' loves the bars. And he loves drinking. When one drinks, it is inevitable they'll need to urinate. Well, I recall 'O', the disgusting drunk that he is, while in mid-conversation, without the conversation participants knowing, urinated AT THE BAR. That is, he whipped it out, and pee'd on the side of the bar while we were talking to him. Sure, the bar was in the back area, outdoor, and we didn't actually see his thing, and no one around noticed, ... it's still no-less disgusting.

For you "Bar-pee'ers" or overactive bladder folks; Here you go: Sneaky Leaker

streak

The losing streak continues.
21 players, no-limit hold 'em, tourney. $50 buy-in.

I was playing pretty well. Up until I went all in with top pair after the flop, hoping to get Debo on my left to fold. Unfortunately my timeing couldn't be worse. He called immediately and flipped over a straight. I was drawing dead, and ended my tournament hopes 6th.

All I can say is. "motherfucker."

(sigh)

I have to find a way to shake the sinking feeling of losing.

I am a terrible loser. Absolutely terrible. Some people can take losing very gracefully. Tney nod their head, shake people's hands, wish everyone luck. Not me. I literally can't control myself. I instantly say either, "Son of a bitch," "Motherfucker," or "Goddammit." This is a totally natural, deep to the core of the being spontaneous reaction, and there is no conscious effort whatsoever. Usually I don't even remember actually making the words with my mouth. I just hear it.

It is so dissappointing to know that I didn't go out on a bad beat. That would've been consolation. I legitimately overplayed my hand. It was a straight-up bad play. (sigh)

This was not cathartic.

Lesson: Don't go all in on a bluff when you are near the bubble.

Prop

I suck at poker.
Either that or I'm just on a losing streak. A big losing streak. Oh man, it's depressing to think about.
There's a tourney this weekend. Bootie's brother, Eric the fireman, is holding his second tourney. I 'll need to ramp up or "cowboy up" as they say. ... I feel dirty for having just wrote "cowboy up." ggh ... I did it again. ...
At any rate, I've got to get my ass in gear and start, "Not Fucking Up," as they say.

Today was interesting. I sat down directly to the right of a prop player at the Garden City's $2-$4 table. I instantly felt tension in her. She was pissed. Apparently the two grey haired ladies across the table had been delivering continuous bad beats on her and the guy to my right. She started telling me, "Fuck them. She's raising with shit like 8-5 offsuit? I fucking hate that." She wasn't yelling it, just hissing it to us two.
"Really?" I said.
Sure enough the lady's favorite hand seemed to be 8-5. She turns over, straight... full house??? Two-pair? Straight again?! Zoiks! All with 8-5... or something like that.
Then she starts in on the dealer.
"I fucking hate this guy." She loses a hand. "Yup, I knew it. I only get flops like that with this guy. I have these," She shows me K-J-suited, then points at the flop showing 4-4-7. "And that shit comes down." Mucks her hand. "Fucking faggot." She says, meaning it.
I had on my best poker face.

Her story was entertaining if not fascinating. She's been playing here at the Garden City Casino for the past 25 years. No doubt if she spent every waking hour there or in the smoking yard. She ONLY plays at Garden City, NEVER at Bay 101. She can get comps in Vegas any time because they know her at ALL the casinos. She was superstitious, always playing certain cards like T-8-suited, as long as they were suited. Between the years 1989-91 she lost $1.9 million. BUT, right now she's just killing time at the $2-$4 table because she doesn't need the money. She already all set moneywise. She made it all back perhaps. Whatever. I let it go.

pet training

no puky!

I ate pizza last night. No middle of the night puking session followed. I guess I'm not allergic to milk afterall. For me, that's great news. That means I can get my pizza grub ON!

The house goes down

Well, it's official.
My fraternity just got kicked off campus.
Though I'm surprised that it didn't happen years earlier, it is still a very sad thing. Most of my best friends are ATOs, and we've shared many, many memories. Most which I will never fully remember.

The ATO Creed.
To bind men together in a brotherhood based upon eternal and immutable principles, with a bond as strong as right itself, and as lasting as humanity; to know no north, no south, no east, no west, but to know man as man, to teach that true men the world over should stand together and contend for supremacy of good over evil; to teach not politics, but morals; to foster not partisanship, but the recognition of true merit wherever found; to have no narrower limits within which to work together for the elevation of man than the outlines of the world; these were the thoughts and hopes uppermost in the minds of the founders of the Alpha Tau Omega Fraternity.

- Otis Allan Glazebrook, 1880

The newer generation, getting too creative made some very dumb decisions. The last four paragraphs of this link roughly illustrate.
It's a damn shame isn't it?

Double fisted

Going through my archives I found this gem.



Mia, double-fisted...
One-year-old going on 21.

Land of the Lost

Check it out... Here's a pic of the frat house days taken by my buddy Rob.

I believe this is the "Land of the Lost" party 1997. Of course it could be any of the parties we had. Over the years all the different parties sort of melted together into one huge rager.
That would explain my horrendous academic performance in college. Since the parties were usually to celebrate the end of finals the party set-up would take place during dead week (the week before finals). Which meant I didn't study, ever.

Hey, fuck it I say. If the president of the United States can be a "C" student, get trashed all the time instead of studying and screw up everything he touches, then so can I!

A recipe for love

I know some people despise the idea of boiling or braising ribs. Some say that smoking them for tens of hours is the only true way to prepare ribs.
I submit that boiled or braised ribs are some of the most tender, delicious ribs that you can make and at a fraction of the time it takes to smoke'm.

We used a pressure cooker for the first time for my ribs. That cut the cooking time from 3 hours to 50 minutes. From now on, it will always be pressure cooking. I didn't notice any loss of flavor or texture using this process.

Here it is.

Get your ribs.
Rub them with generously spices. A blend of salt, pepper, cayenne, etc will work great. Or just buy the McCormick pork rub and use a jar of it per two racks. When it comes to spices, use your imagination. Like cinnamon? Give your swine a sprinkle of it. And don't worry about overdoing it, the ribs love it. The ribs want it. Give it to them.
Pop these bad boys in your pressure cooker. On top of that, pour in your braising liquid. We used 2 cups of apple juice, a cup and a half of soy sauce, and then we dumped in a mish-mash of other herbs and seasonings. Again use your imagination. Eventually you'll get a combo you love... then you'll have your own "secret-recipe."

Strap the lid on tight and let that bad boy cook for 40 minutes under pressure.

Release the steam and pressure safely and move the ribs to a foil covered (non-stick foil perhaps) cooking sheet and place it into an oven preheated to 450 degrees. Save some of the braising liquid.

Mix a cup of liquid with a cup of your favorite BBQ sauce (I love Bulls Eye Original Sauce), and baste the ribs two or three times as the ribs finish in the hot oven.

These ribs will literally slide right off the bone...

You can remove the meat off the bones and place them on a toasted bun for some ridiculously delicious Pork Sand-o's...

Monty plays poker

Certificate of Achievment

I just found out one of my photos was a finalist in the 2004 CNPA Better Newspaper Contest. I didn't win, but I guess being a finalist ain't half bad.

Here's the pic in the catagory of "Sports Photo"

newbie poker

AaronM brought a bunch of his buddies over last night for some poker. It was sort of interesting playing with a couple dudes who'd never played poker before. Interesting in a really annoying way. It's difficult to play against them. Of course they were the first ones to get knocked out, but it really threw a monkey wrench in my concentration.
At any rate, I came in 4th. Taken out when I made a horrible read against two-pair. ...$30 in the shitter...

Lesson: Never call an all-in with only second pair unless you are sure your opponent is on a stone-cold bluff.

A Real Mans Drink

A Real Mans Drink
Originally uploaded by habitforming.

Check this out... an old drawing I did at a random bar years ago.

Garden City - cold cards

Garden City after work.
An obnoxious dude was giving poker lessons. He was playing the small limits with his buddies and giving them a constant barrage of insults and threats. It was pretty annoying actually. Also he was raising the pot on almost every hand. He was sitting to my immediate left, making it very painful to limp in every time. My stack dwindled.
Furthermore, the cards were coooold. No flops were landing. And obnoxious dude was raising on pure bluffs and managed to actually buy a couple pots with absolute shit. Finally obnoxious dude and his friends left. It was like a breath of fresh air. Unfortunately my cards were still cold and I had to rebuy a couple times. And alas, I was down $100, with one more hand worth of chips left. I was resigned to go all-in with K8 and a straight draw. On the turn, I hit my straight, took down the pot and was back to -$40. Cutting my losses, I called it.

By the way,
Check out The Shield... It's a great fucking show. It's worth renting the first two seasons... Ultra gritty, violent, intense.

Speaking of FX, July the cable network will be airing a series by Steven Bochco called Over There, a show about the Iraq War. The commercials look fantastic, and the show will most likely be a huge hit.

FX is stepping up television. It's intense shows such as The Shield and Nip/Tuck have given new life to TV. It has made it worthwhile to stay up late and to finally relinquish the remote control.

Garden City

I took a shot at the Garden City Casino Sunday.
I had a slow start and played a total of one hand in the first 30 minutes. The following 30 minutes would bring my total up to 100x the big blind. I caught a rush, my suited connectors turned into a full house to my opponent's straight; I chopped a huge pot when a dude to my left and I both caught the nut straight. My set of 4's destroyed two high pairs on another hand.
Just as the dealer was changing, and they searched for a cut-card, I got up from my seat and logged a $300 win,... for less than 2 hours of play.

I'm on a streak...

The ultimate beat down

The season finale of The Ultimate Fighter was fantastic.
As popular as The Contender is, The Ultimate Fighter is much, much better. On one hand, The Contender, starring by Sly Stallone and Sugar Ray Leonard and produced by Mark Burnett (Survivor) is a very slick boxing reality contest. It is extremely produced to maximize it's dramatic effect. The fights are over edited and cut down to about a minute.
The Ultimate Fighter feels more like MTV's The Real World. It feels more real. The people seem more real. The fights are way more brutal.
The season finale of The Ultimate Fighter made for some of the best television I've seen in a long time. I would rate it at the TOP of the reality TV spectrum, and also at the top of the sports spectrum as well. The finale featured 2 final battles between the top competitors of the 2 weight classes. The highlight was easily the bloody contest between Stephen Bonnar, and Forrest Griffin. It was a good ole fashioned slugg-o-rama. These guys really beat the shit out of each other. I was on the edge of my seat. At the end, the fight was so exciting, both fighters were awarded a six-figure contracts to fight on the Ultimate Fighting Championship.
After that, the legend Ken Shamrock took on some tough guy named Richardson. Shamrock got his ass beat down. Inexplicably, he slipped twice giving Richardson the opportunity to mount and beat Shamrock's face in. Shamrock's professional fighting days should be over. Today's fighters, all of whom, are influenced by Shamrock, have officially exceeded him in fighting skills.
Being a huge fan of the "mixed-martial-arts" or what I call, "Ass-kicking," I'm stoked to see these dudes beat each other up in the future.

Four-peat baby!

Tourney at Dylan's house:
2 tables, 15 players, $30 buy-in freezeout (no rebuys or add-ons)... top 3 get paid.

I won.

Whew,...
It was a miracle. I was shortstacked from the get-go, and maintained last place until the table merged, at which point only SamD was shorter-stacked than me. I was able to stay in the game only by stealing blinds from late position and the occasional early position bluff.
By the time the final table slimmed to the top 5, I was still almost worthless in last place.
Patience brought me to the final 4 when everyone gambled against each other and knocked each other out. Having doubled up once or twice kept me barely alive and I squeaked into the final two.
A few all-ins, double ups and BBOOOOOYYYEAAAH!!
Somehow, I won the damn thing; giving me a jackpot of $300!

I'm not a fluke, I'm not a fluke!

4 tournaments in a row. Wow.

a little poker lesson

I had a losing night at Bay 101 last night.
Sucks.
I played poorly early on. Probably just a bit antzy. Upon reflection, I played too loose after the flop. Tight is right... after the flop. Fine, a $60 lesson learned.
At least it was a small loss. But the worst part isn't losing the money, it's logging it on my poker record, because it makes the loss permanent. Anyway, I dread it. Of course when I win, I run home and log it immediately. I might wait another day before I log this loss.
All in all, I'm up more than a $grand$ playing poker these last couple months, so what's a $60 loss right?
Oh well, time to move forward. Anyhow, the game's at Dylans tonight... $30 rebuy tourney... We'll see how this "re-buy" crap works. Looking to four-peat tonight.

Good Luck to me.

A landwalker

Check this thing out.

A real landwalker...

I found it at Cinematical.com while surfing.

Honestly, even though I am a bonfide nerd... what would one do with a contraption like this. Besides being an overgrown weed whacker, what service would it provide?

Sin City

Caught Sin City last night.

Loved it.
First, I'd like to say that I am a comic book fan, therefore I was a Frank Miller fan. Miller created some of the grittiest stories ever. He embraced the crime thriller genre for comics and eventually gave titles like Daredevil and Batman the dark flavor of violence that they needed. His reiventions of those characters marked a turning point in comics. Miller really turned popular comics on its head with The Dark Knight Returns. This is a MUST READ for comic book fans.
Sin City retains that spirit. Director Robert Rodriguez holds so true to the Sin City comic book and to Miller's vision, Rodriquez defied the Director's Guild and has a double director credit with Miller.
The ultra-cheeze was Sin City's only negative aspect. Brittney Murphy's line delivery is an especially bitter pill.
Mickey Roarke makes a show-stealing, career invigorating performance as Marv, the ugly, ruthless, meathead, and does the best narration in the movie. Frodo also makes an appearance as Kevin, the agile, silent-but-deadly mass murderer nemesis.

I left the film feeling as if I lived in this crazy world of sex, extreme violence and brutal grit and didn't have any desire to leave.

my ankle, and ole Bill

I rolled my ankle last night while walking in downtown Mountain View.
I heard the 'pip-pop' as my ankle folded onto itself. With backpacking season approaching, ain't it just what I need?


Had dinner at my buddy Dave's house. His dad, Bill, died this weekend. We talked about the old days when Bill grew up in the 50's. His widow and best friend told about his shennanigans as a teenager, how he loved a good party. He loved adventure. When I was a teenager my pal Dave would have parties at his house, and ole Bill would always come out and mingle with our friends. He would partake in the meat on the grill, and have a beer.

During his last days at the nursing home, he tried to escape. His widow Margie got a call in the middle of the night saying, "Your husband is giving us some problems, come right away." She got to the facility and as the elevator doors opened she saw two old ladies in their wheelchair blocking the door. Ole Bill in his wheelchair was trying to get through.
"Get outta my way, I'm goin home" he says. "If you don't get out of my way, I'm calling the sheriff!" I could just picture him in a mexican standoff with 2 old wheelchair bound ladies.

He was a great guy. We'll all miss ole Bill.

a home somewhere, anywhere

Housing is a problem here. A huge problem.
I make a decent living. I guess that's relative. Between the GF and me, we make enough that we should be able to own our own home. Except that we live in the bay area of California, which makes homeowning an extreme unlikelyhood.
My pops says that it actually makes fmore sense for us to rent a house than to buy one; that you would actually LOSE money buying a home because the prices are so prohibitively high. That's such BULLSHIT!
My buddy just bought a house down in Gilroy. It's about 40 minutes south of San Jose. They bought their house (3BR, 1900 sq ft) for somewhere around $500,000. That was a year ago. Now, the house is probably worth near $700,000. I bet in Arizona, it'd be worth $300,000,... tops.

They say that in order to buy a home a family needs to make an average combined income of $120,000 a year... that's for an average priced home.

If anyone is reading this from another state, country etc... what could a couple making $80,000 a year buy where you live? And are there any job openings for a newspaper photographer in your area?

3 time winner

Did I mention that I played 3 sit'n go tourneys at my weekly home game last night? I might have mentioned it in an earlier post. Did I mention that I won all three?

Well I won all three! Ha!

That's right! I'm no fluke. I'm not dumb, I'm smart! Not like everybody says.

So with a $30, $20 and $20 buy-ins I was up $310 at the end of the night.

yup,... gooood stuff.

Frat-party Flyers

My buddy Rob has a page on his photo blog which has a bunch of my old fraternity party flyers.
It's so fucking sweet. Like a dumbass, I never archived my old drawings, so seeing these is really a blast from the past for me.
These flyers each took me a couple hours to draw. Each flyer represents a legendary party. ATO SJSU used to throw the biggest and best parties... (sigh) ah, the good ole days.
Habit-Forming

3 in a row

I'm not a fluke! I'm not a fluke.

We started with a $30, 10-handed, freezeout tourney. I won. Next, we did $20, 7 handed. I won. After that, again we did $20 buy-in, 7-handed. I won that too.
Pretty unbelievable. Especially because these players weren't jokers. Or maybe that's why I performed better. Players weren't making ridiculous calls. They were considering pot odds and generally playing solid poker, which made the game better. It allowed more bluffing for me and less sucking out by my opponents.

The truth is, I played some of my best poker last night. My opponents were unable to put me on a hand. I pushed hard from the button and stole a bunch of blinds. I never "did anything stupid," which is what usually kills me.

Making a conscious effort to change gears at different points in the game also helped. This is important aspect of tourney play. An early loose pre-flop call set me up with two-pair which gave made me the strong stack early in game one, and set my table image up for the duration. I mixed up my game quite a bit, and though my opponents did call my hand a couple times,... they weren't really sure what I had most of the time. A couple of my opponent's bluff all-ins resulted in disaster for them when I flipped a hand.

All in all, it was a good night of poker. We had a ton of fun,.. which is the point after all. And I made money. AND I redeemed myself from my last place finish against these guys last time.

3 in a row baby.