Poker Grub

Not wanting to leave The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas

2012-02-08T21:01:00.014-05:00

I went through a list of Las Vegas hotels, and I counted 43 different ones that I’ve stayed at – all for free.

That’s a lot of hotel rooms. Heck, that’s a lot of gambling to get those hotel rooms.

I can’t even guess how many total Vegas hotel rooms I’ve stayed in, but it’s in the hundreds.

Since I first visited The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas, it zoomed to the top of my list of hotel-casinos I need to stay in. Three others are up there – Bellagio, ARIA, and Wynn/Encore (I scratched that off in December but only ended up sleeping there one of three nights, because I passed out in my double-booked Treasure Island room after a slot-playing session that lasted till 6 a.m.).

As soon as I first walked into Cosmo last year, it grabbed me with a vibe that never let go. The elegance, the restaurants, the open space, the Chandelier Bar, the top-shelf spirits in expensive glasses for free, the rooftop pool, the community pool table, the secret pizza place on the top floor, the friendly staff with no nametags so you interact more, the entrance along the Strip, the windows you could peek into and see slot machines, the endless women with impossibly short skirts. It was unlike any other casino, seemingly built without gaming in mind.

And unfortunately, they’re losing so much money on their gaming that it’s almost assured they’ll foreclose or file bankruptcy and get MGM Resorts to buy out their debt (I say MGM because they wouldn’t want Caesars to encroach on their westside Strip monopoly).

So I was hoping for a room offer this year before one of the two Evil Empires took over and started rolling in the budget cuts.

At the end of December, I got a two-night offer but didn’t think I could afford a Vegas trip so soon after already being there early December. But then I got my first live royal flush on Jan. 1 and booked immediately.

grubette also loves Cosmo and was eager to see the hotel, and we decided to make a quick family trip as an extension of her December birthday.

Cosmo matched my player status at competing casinos, so I was at their highest tier of Platinum, which got me a separate check-in line, an upgraded room, a welcome gift, a free in-room movie, limo access, and other nice touches. Platinum normally requires $80,000 coin-in per year to maintain.

The front desk tried to get me on the 61st floor, but someone booked it at the same time, so I was stuck with her first choice of floor 16 in the east tower. East overlooks the Strip, West overlooks MGM Grand.

The Platinum card worked well, as she spent at least 20 minutes trying to find a good room. When she asked what I was looking for, I mentioned I usually stay at Encore (a white lie, though that’s where I stayed last time), and could she find me a room that would impress me enough to get me to return.

I sometimes do the $20 trick to upgrade the room, but it didn’t seem appropriate since I was already getting a free upgrade.

The room turned out to be even better than expected. The main plus is that it’s located in the main action of the casino. I don’t like to walk very far from the casino to the elevator and elevator to the room, and I’ll often scrap the view in favor of a room close to the elevator.

It was immediately comfortable and inviting. A large portion of the hotel was at one point geared toward hotel-condo owners, so they aren’t typical of the standard casino-hotel room.

If I won the lottery, I would stay at Cosmo.

The room was stocked with coffee table photography books, even a small shelf with a few books and bookends. The living room table had a candy jar. Soft lighting highlighted the decorations.

My welcome gift was a puzzle box of nuts and candy, a sort of preview of what I could get from the mini-bar.

The mini-bar had a small compartment at the bottom where you could store food. A nice touch, as most mini-bars are full of items for purchase.

I added a few martini glasses (from these Cosmopolitans) to the glassware.

If I had more dishes, I could use the compact Swedish dishwasher that had a top rack just for silverware.

The bedroom looked out onto the balcony, and I kept the sliding glass door open most of the time.

This was the view during the day, overlooking the Marquee Dayclub with floating pool.

The bed had windows into the bathroom, in case you want to watch your stripper girlfriend taking a shower.

From the bathroom, there was a window onto the balcony.

Television screens and a touch screen phone controlled climate, lighting, ambience, and the TV almost as an afterthought.

The shower and soaking tub were combined in one room, more like a spa than a shower.

What really made the room for me was the little touches. Like the large closet, with a separate door for the shelves. I actually wore the slippers and robe, and hung up all my clothes.

Here’s the toilet.

And a closeup of the wallpaper.

Because I double-booked at other hotels, I was spread out and didn’t get to concentrate play at Cosmo. So ultimately I played very little there, about $6000 coin-in across three days (by contrast, I spent the same in a concentrated session at Luxor within a few hours). That’s nothing for a casino like this, so I don’t expect to get future offers.

But the one saving grace is they’re hurting for players, so my fingers are crossed that I’ll get one more offer.

And then I’ll request the 61st floor.

The morning after

2012-02-06T19:53:00.002-05:00

Facing up to gambling losses is the hardest to do the morning after.

That’s when I wake up on the couch from whatever pleasant dream (such as mamagrub mailing me a half-eaten ham sandwich) and then recalling that yes, I really did dump that much into one slot machine the previous night.

It doesn’t much occur during the midst of the action, though there are usually various checkpoints along the way that I choose to ignore.

The first was visiting the bank to withdraw money, not because I would save on the ATM fee but because I could take out more than my ATM limit, and I could use the ATM as a further backup.

The second was using the ATM as that backup.

The third was using the ATM again after midnight.

The fourth was winning $750 in a bonus and then having a couple players cheer me on and tell me I should cash out, that it was a huge win, and me saying that I was already down a lot and this wouldn’t help. And that they should go away because it’ll be very sad when they see me run it down to zero.

Which is what happened.

The game that killed me was Free Spin Maximus Spinning Streak Progressive.

In the past couple weeks, I’ve played three sessions of this game, for a total of about 21,000 spins and $40k coin-in. All because of its high progressive.

During the first half of my gambling frenzy, a woman three games down wins $2600 on a $2 bet on Zeus III Reel Boost. Much of it occurred on one of her free spins when she turned reels 1-4 wild, and as the win incremented she kept saying “Oh my god” and that she was going to faint. The win drew a crowd (including me), and as another woman returned to her game, she passed me, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “Keep betting $4, maybe you’ll win.”

I said, “Fuck off.”

Then I realized she wasn’t being critical of my betting max (I was feeling fiscally irresponsible and guilty, but betting $2 gives me a 50/50 progressive pick, and I picked wrong 7 times in a row – betting $4 will give it to you immediately), but more sympathetic to a fellow slot player, that here I am betting $4 and putting $100 bill in after $100 bill to get nothing, and a woman “easily” hits 1300x her bet right after she sits down.

Later after my first ATM visit, I hit free spins and filled the screen with a top symbol, covering all but one position for $750. I then got to make a pick for either an extra Spinning Streak (which would bump me up to the Diamond level and give me a 50/50 chance at picking the progressive), up to 3 extra spins, up to a 10x multiplier, or credits.

At this point I wanted the multiplier. That would be an instant $7500, which was almost twice the Diamond progressive.

Instead, I got extra credits and the adulation of two women who hugged and touched me and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t reacting. When I said I was going to keep playing it all until I got the Diamond, they said I was crazy but that they’d come back to check on me.

Thankfully, they didn’t, because I was in a pissed state, which included snapping at a woman standing behind me for chewing gum loudly.

If only I did this much play in Vegas. The only thing I squeezed out of the riverboats was a comped turkey club sandwich at 3 a.m.

The last time I hit bottom

2012-01-31T23:27:00.004-05:00

Three Vegas trips ago in October, I was at another rock bottom. (I used to number them, but I've lost count.)

I was playing $25 blackjack at Planet Hollywood. It was a great time until the losing started.

Which went until I was out $400 (not including $100 in table freeplay, which was gone in four hands).

I'm about to leave, but decide to go to the ATM for one more buy-in. I knew that this would leave me with less than $400 in my bank account.

I silently cursed the $4.99 ATM fee + $2 fee my bank charges. I curse any fee above $4, even though it's less than a bet.

Cash advances on my credit cards were maxed, so I was stuck.

This last $500 had to last until Oct. 7, which was payday.

Luck was already not on my side, when I returned to find they took away my drink, thinking I'd left for good.

I order another cranberry & Ketel, rebuy for $100, then lose that.

Then I do one more $100, figuring I could last on $300 for a few days as long as I didn't gamble.

Surprisingly, the table turned hot. Helped by the funny dealer who repeated everything we said (e.g., "Double for more!" and "Nobody home!" when checking for a blackjack) and a hot dancer behind us who had the perfect ass and didn't mind us staring at it.

I cashed out $700, which added to the $300 in my pocket, allowing me to last a few more days.

So I really try to keep this receipt in mind, when thinking about how bad things can get, and how I'm constantly flirting with that bottom again.

After I returned from that October trip, I cashed out all my stocks to have a little extra for the December trip and the weekend visits to the boats.

I thought after the three royals earlier this month that I'd seen the last of big losses, that I could coast for a few months at least, just on those wins.

Those wins were significant -- $4276, $4655, $1000.

A few months ago, I started to keep track of all my wins and losses through a spreadsheet, and isolating to just the month of January, it shows I'm down $2320. That includes the wins off those royals, as well as $1515 total freeplay.

Worse yet, next year I'll still owe taxes on those W2s.

I'm writing this post and tacking the receipt to my bulletin board in the hopes of reminding me how close I am to returning to October. Only this time, there's no more cushion of stocks.

Bikini bull riding is back

2012-01-25T20:05:00.005-05:00

Bikini bull riding in Las Vegas used to be at Gilley's Saloon at the New Frontier, until it was imploded.

Now Gilley's has moved to Treasure Island, with everything intact.

I went last year and thought the bull was pretty formidable.

Just look at that sneer.

Mechanical bulls are better made for women, and the cowboy would control the bull in such a way that it would cause the person to show off their best assets. A combination of subtle humiliation and schooling in why you should've worn underwear.

Not many came in bikinis, so during lulls, a server would hop a ride.

They were always the ones who lasted the longest.

The sexiness could probably only be improved if the bull kicked them into mud (which the old Gilley's also used to have).

We are one and the same

2012-01-24T19:53:00.003-05:00

Since slot machines moved to tickets, it’s much easier to move from machine to machine and I’m thankful for it, even though I don’t practice it.

Back when slots were coins only, I’d insert a $20 and not want to cash out, knowing I’d have to carry around a bucket of all those dirty quarters (or even nickels) as well as attract attention that I may have won big. I never like attention at a casino, or in life really.

In these ticket-in, ticket-out days, many slot players will insert $20, then if they have a good win, they’ll cash out, set the ticket aside, and put another $20 in.

I’m guessing this is money management, or a luck thing, or both.

Or it could be they just don’t want the attention. A large win could target them as a mark, and you never know what may happen in a darkened parking garage.

I keep everything in the game until cashing out, and then when moving to another game, I still use the same ticket.

But maybe I’ll change my ways.

The higher your credit meter, the more people will pass by and take notice, then watch you play. Atronic/Spielo introduced the ability to hide your credit meter. Some players will hide their credit meter by propping up a card over the screen.

For me, I start with $100, so my credit meter is already up there. Some will comment, “Hey, you look like you’re doing well,” without realizing I started with more.

It also doesn’t help that I can be particularly agitated while playing, cursing at the game, shaking a fist at the security cameras, etc. I suspect this makes entertaining viewing.

Last week while playing Cashman Tonight for a couple hours, I noticed a group of three elderly women had pulled up chairs and sat in a semi-circle behind me. I didn’t realize they were there until I heard them describing a big win I had to someone else. They explained exactly what happened and how much I’d won.

I was their show.

Of all casinos I’ve been to, Majestic Star (in Gary, Indiana) has the highest number of stragglers – people who just wander the casino. They’ll stroll around, they’ll check empty machines for credits left, they’ll park themselves at a machine but not play, they’ll sleep at a machine, they’ll watch others.

I’ve seen people stand behind and sit next to me, and just stare at my game. I’ve stared back, and in other casinos, this will get them to leave. (I did this at The California in downtown Vegas, when I sensed someone was staring at me while playing. I kept looking back, then finally was going to tell her off, when I realized she was a friend of mamagrub and had recognized me.)

People at Majestic Star just stare right back. It’s uncanny. Some people are preparing for the zombie apocalypse, I feel it’s already here at this casino.

They don’t have the social sense to realize they’re bothering you. It doesn’t even help when employing the gamblers’ shared understanding of luck by saying, “Do you mind not watching? It’s bad luck.”

Some are waiting for their shuttle bus to leave. Some are waiting for the people they came with. But mostly, some are seemingly just there to wait for you to win big, then maybe congratulate you, then maybe hope for some good luck money.

And that’s mostly what I’m guessing they’re there for.

Trouble is, they picked the wrong horse to watch, as I don’t win that often. Or if I do, it goes right back into the machine. Those two royals I posted? Last weekend I lost the equivalent of one of them. And I still have to pay taxes.

A week after my second royal, I hit a third.

It was quarter denom, and that money was gone by the next day.

So any potential beggars are lost on me, like I am on slots.

I haven’t had anyone come right up to me and solicit, unlike Vegas where panhandlers will approach to ask for money for a bus ride home because their car broke down. All my money is usually in the machine that I’m angrily playing off to zero, and I have no qualms turning to them and saying, “Fuck off!” or “Security!” or “I said no!” in a loud voice. That’s better than saying, “Sorry.” I never give them anything.

(I don’t say “Fuck off” in real life, but when I’m in the midst of slot gambling, I’m already cursing at the machine, so it isn’t too much of a leap to direct the f-bomb at a person.)

Often I’m ignoring every comment I hear about a win I just had, as if I don’t speak English or I’m deaf. Best not to draw them into a conversation.

Sometimes they’re persistent and repeat, sometimes they touch me to make sure I’m paying attention.

Sometimes it’s even security watching and commenting on my game: “I just wanted to see the bonus.”

I don’t understand the whole mentality, but then, watching someone play a slot machine is not dissimilar to the mentality of playing a slot machine.

And if a game can attract a crowd, it’s probably done its job.

Thinking with a full bladder

2012-01-23T23:56:00.003-05:00

I always seem to be full of pee.

I’ve resolved to go to the gym ~~every other day~~ weekly to see if I can get rid of the 30 pounds I’ve gained since moving to Chicago. The thinking is that for every day I go to the casino, I will spend one day working out (not a one-for-one, as I tend to visit a bunch of casinos in one day).

Ever since working out, I’m drinking more water than usual, and I seem to always be in a state of needing to go to the bathroom.

A recent study in Psychological Science found you think better with a semi-full bladder.

I wonder if that works when being chased by a bear, though if that were to happen, I’d probably have evacuated most of that bladder while running.

And if you think better with a full bladder, what if you're full of shit?

The line of fire

2012-01-22T23:01:00.002-05:00

“Mind if I smoke?”

“No, mind if I fart?”

That Steve Martin joke always comes to mind whenever I’m playing slots and someone sits next to me and lights up a cigarette.

People never ask if I mind; if they did, I would say I do.

I don’t smoke, and I know gambling and smoking go hand in hand.

Banning smoking from a casino never works. The new casino Revel in Atlantic City opens on Memorial Day, and they’re talking about making it nonsmoking. Not a good idea.

The casinos in Illinois are nonsmoking, and since they went that way, they’ve seen not only a decline in players, but they’ve seen those players hopping the border to Indiana to gamble and smoke.

For me, breathing and smelling of smoke is one of the hazards of gambling.

Sometimes I’ll use a smoker to determine whether I sit down at a machine. If there’s an empty machine and the players on either side are not smoking, I’ll sit. If either one is smoking, I won’t sit (unless I really want to play).

The annoying part is when I’ve been playing for awhile, and then someone next to me decides to light up. Which isn’t bad in itself, but when the cigarette is particularly smelly, and when the ventilation drifts my way, I will sometimes leave.

I’m always watching players out of the corner of my eye. Either their screen, their reaction to a win, their reaction to my win, or when they’re digging in their purse for something. It looks like I’m snooping, but I’m just checking if they’re looking for cigarettes and if so, how much time I’ll have left to play.

mamagrub will hold her nose and wave her hand at the smoke. I’ll go as far as dodge the smoke as they exhale, or I’ll stand to avoid the smoke. It’s sort of a passive-aggressive ostentatious display, I realize.

This morning I was playing Double Bonus video poker. It was $1, and I’m guessing the progressive hadn’t hit since I was there last weekend when it was $5200. It was at $7000 and I felt it would be mine, especially when I was dealt two 4-to-a-royals.

I’m $800 into the game already and pretty frustrated, because I’m not hitting anything. I’m also coming from a big loss yesterday and the day before. I have $300 left before an ATM run, and I have two more casinos to hit for freeplay.

I also have to shit, not having gone since yesterday. At one casino, whenever I ask for a food comp, instead of the meal, I get the equivalent in peanut M&Ms. So the shit I needed to do was going to be full of peanuts.

The bank of games wasn’t full, and etiquette when sitting down at the same game is like a movie theater – leave a seat in between. A guy ignored that and sat right next to me.

Then he lit up.

Video poker players who smoke are more annoying to me, because they don’t use one hand to play, they use both hands and one hand holds the cigarette, which is waved all around as they play.

They also tend to wait until the very last minute to ash.

So in retaliation, I let out a particularly nasty silent but deadly, so much so that even I was repulsed by it. But also somewhat proud.

I gauged his reaction but couldn’t tell if it had wafted over his way.

I positioned myself in the chair so that he would get the maximum fart dosage from my ass.

I kept playing as normal, checking whether he noticed, but I couldn’t tell if he did. Perhaps his sense of smell was deadened from smoking.

Then another guy sat down on my other side. He inserted his card, let out a disgusted grunt, then grabbed his card and left.

My line of fire was misdirected and picked up some collateral damage.

I played faster until I was out of money, then headed to the men’s room where I had a different kind of royal flush.

Offers at The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas

2012-01-21T13:55:00.003-05:00

The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas (or Cosmo as they’re affectionately known, much to the chagrin of Cosmopolitan magazine, which unsuccessfully tried to get them to rename) is my favorite casino in Vegas.

There’s a vibe to it that feels what a young, hip casino should feel like. (Translation: young hot women dressed in short skirts swarm the joint.)

It opened December 2010 and will probably be the last big hotel-casino in Vegas for awhile.

It’s a mid-size casino – I judge size by the number of slot machines, and it has about 1500 (Harrah’s, for example, has about 1200; MGM Grand has 3500) – but feels small. It’s easy to navigate, with bars, gaming floor, and hotel accessible from one end to the other. No maze or circles or curves to confuse. As many times as I’ve been to Planet Hollywood, the layout still gets me lost, and I always end up where I started. Which is what the casino wants, but frustrating when it happens over and over.

Their hotel, restaurants, clubs, and bars are doing better business than their gaming, like most Las Vegas hotel-casinos have discovered these days. Native American casinos really took a hit on Vegas (and inevitable legalized online gambling will do further damage). If you can gamble by driving down the block to your local casino, you don’t need to gamble in Vegas. Vegas still has an allure as a destination, however, but going to gamble is now second.

Casinos scramble with promotions to draw in players, and two attracted me to Cosmo (though I was hanging out there without any promotions).

The first is $100 in slot freeplay if you lose $100 in slots and/or video poker. Once activating the promo at the Identity player’s club booth, I went straight to the high limit room and played four spins on a $25 slot. I figured if I won anything $200 or over, I didn’t need to do the promo. I whiffed on all four spins, so returned to the player’s club to get my $100 freeplay added to my card and grinded it in quarter video poker, recovering $82 while getting two free Ketel Ones & cranberry.

Make sure to get the person’s name, because I spoke to one who thought if you didn’t lose $100, you could do the promotion again 24 hours later. This doesn’t make a lot of sense, as you could easily advantage play it.

I was also able to participate in the promotion even though I wasn’t a new player. If someone tells you otherwise, keep persisting.

The second promotion is Cosmo will match a tier level to a Las Vegas competitor. Identity has three levels: Silver (when you sign up), Gold, and Platinum (80,000 points, or $80,000 coin-in in a year). I showed my Caesars Entertainment Diamond card, and they matched me to Gold (Seven Star will get you to Platinum). Then I showed my Boyd Gaming Emerald card, and they bumped me to Platinum. They don't know that Emerald at Boyd is much easier to get than Diamond at Caesars, but they stick to a list of tiers at various properties.

Tier level means nothing without play. In Atlantic City, the Borgata will also match status, and my last visit there I was upgraded to their Black card along with $100 freeplay. But then not a single offer after.

Platinum members at Cosmo get access to their limo, an upgrade to a balcony suite, a welcome gift, a free in-room movie, spa access, Marquee nightclub access, and a kitchen tour of their restaurants.

I played no more than usual, and early this month received 2 nights free. grubette also loves Cosmo and wants to see the rooms, so we coordinated a trip for next weekend. I plan to play at Cosmo to keep getting offers, but I won’t feel particular pressure to, because I can get free rooms at Planet Hollywood, which is an easy walk across the street.

How to play progressive slot machines

2012-01-20T17:34:00.002-05:00

Missed yesterday’s daily post because a friend and I went slot playing at a casino I don’t normally visit. I’ll try to double up posts over the weekend.

We went right after work, then stayed for 8 hours. Almost like a second job.

The Ameristar East Chicago has the newest slot games, particularly since they need to compete with two neighboring casinos (the ones I go to), two more casinos an hour away (also ones I go to), and the new Rivers Casino that opened last year that’s drawing all the coveted Chicago players.

Because of all the promotions, it’s a good time to be a player. More competition means more schemes to attract you to their casino. Just ignore the fact that it’s also more ways to lose.

For one reason or another, I just don’t go to Ameristar and don’t have offers there. At least not yet.

Walking around the casino, we spotted two Spinning Streak Progressive games with Diamond progressives at 3x to 5x what it normally is, so we settled in to play. My new rule is to not play a game (such as Cashman Tonight) unless the progressive is at least twice what it resets to. And I’m willing to put up 25 percent of that progressive to chase it (I’d been previously known to lose more than the progressive is worth, creating a bittersweet feeling when winning).

This is only on games with what I think are achievable standalone or banked progressives (where they reset from $250 to $1000), not the network-based progressives $10,000 and up that are much more difficult to hit, requiring many more spins.

For poker progressives, I’ll start playing whenever it’s 15 percent higher. So in quarter denomination, $1150 to $1199 (because anything $1200 and over would trigger a tax form, and you’d have to pay taxes on it, cutting down the final amount). In dollar denom, $4600 and up.

The main thing is, there’s no way to game the system. It’s still gambling. Each spin is still independent, and each spin still polls the random number generator and displays an outcome with win or loss.

I’m just trying to put myself into a position to win more, in the event that I do win.

Casinos will sometimes retire a game that contains a progressive. Generally when players play, a small percentage of their bet contributes to the progressive. That contribution cannot be kept by the casino, so they have to award it back to players in some way. When the Sahara closed in Las Vegas last year, they took all the progressive increments and awarded them to random people. In lieu of sweepstakes, usually what casinos will do is transfer the progressive over to another game with a progressive, making that progressive bigger. Last month at Spa Resort in Palm Springs, I saw a U-Spin Cash Spin game at $80,000. This progressive resets at $5000 or $10,000, and your expected value would be way up if you played.

Spinning Streak Progressive works like Spinning Streak (Survivor, Reel Rich Devil, John Wayne, Kingdom of the Titans, The Monkees), where any win is held and remaining symbols respin to try for a bigger win. Each streak advances you toward the progressives. If you streak 10 times, you can win the top progressive (if you’re betting max, you get it instantly; otherwise you receive a pick for the progressive). If all symbols are held (where you can’t streak anymore), you pick a gift box where you’re awarded a number of extra streaks. At least one of those gift boxes is guaranteed to contain enough streaks to boost you to the top.

It’s one of my favorite games, really feeding the action junkie in me.

I was down to my last $100 at 11 p.m., and I said I needed to make that last until midnight, when I could revisit the ATM. I drove this up to $700, and the next thing I knew it was 2 a.m. You tend to lose time when you gamble. For me, there’s no better feeling. I may be sick, I may be depressed, I may be tired, but when gambling all of that goes away.

And that’s when things took a bad turn and I lost that, went to the ATM, then lost that.

Sadly, lots of money later at an insane hour, we left the casino as losers. And, frustratingly, we drove up the progressives further for the next lucky person to hit.

I did about $10k coin-in, my friend did $24k. Between the two of us, we had a decent shot at getting it.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Until maybe Saturday, when I’ll go back to try again.

1 in 649,740

2012-01-18T00:00:00.001-05:00

After my New Year’s Day royal flush, I returned to my same triptych of riverboat casinos the next weekend with renewed confidence.

Maybe my bad luck had ended. Maybe the end of the world was really going to happen on Dec. 21, 2012, and this was the first sign.

Maybe I was just due.

On Jan. 6, I went drinking with some friends but broke away after drink #3 to go to the boats to get another royal, I said.

I ran my $75 freeplay up to $100 in Jacks or Better. Majestic Star (Gary, Indiana) is offering not just full pay on Jacks but on other games as well. And in quarter denom (as a general rule of thumb in video poker and slots, higher denoms offer better payback percentages). The one downside – they kill you on your points, with $100 playthrough earning 1 point.

But no matter, as I’ve already reconciled using freeplay and then abandoning the casino and not looking back.

I had a hankering for some blackjack and crossed the boats to Majestic Star II, which used to be Trump Casino.

Found Tanisha who was standing alone at her table. As I approached, she shook her head solemnly and said she busts everyone who plays.

I dug in my pockets for my player’s card, couldn’t find it, then walked on and said I’d be back.

I checked again, found my card, and kept my promise.

As usual with blackjack, I buy-in for $100, lose that, buy-in for another $100, lose that, and then do a final $100. Variance being what it is, I should begin with $300, because that third buy-in is where I generally make back what I lost. Or I lose and go home.

After getting crushed the first two buy-ins, with Tanisha somehow giving a nonjudgmental I-told-you-so look, I rallied with a series of wins on my last $30 and ended up with just over $300.

I could leave, but who wants to leave even?

That same rally went the other direction, and I busted after losing seven hands in a row and did the walk of shame, another victim of Tanisha.

Went to the poker room, where only three tables were running. I put my name down, intending to do some big moves to try to get that $300 back.

Opposite the poker room is the video poker area, and I saw the $1 Double Bonus Progressive bank at over $4600.

With video poker, I’ll sit down at a progressive if it’s 20 percent or more, because I figure it’s statistically due. At $4000 for the royal, 2 cents contributing to the progressive per $5 bet, and 40,391 hands per royal, a royal will generally hit every $807.82 of increment, or when the progressive is $4807.82.

When I was at Encore Las Vegas in December, I was the only one on a lonely Monday morning playing a $1 Double Bonus Progressive at $5200. Played about 3 hours straight, lost a lot, and came away with nothing but brain freeze on several free strawberry juliuses (no longer with the strawberry stuck in the glass... budget cutbacks and all).

Really, I shouldn’t be playing poker progressives unless it’s over $4800.

I ignored the voice and sat down to play.

$500 down, I go to the ATM.

It’s after midnight, and that means I would only have $500 to spend not just the rest of the night but the whole next day.

Screw it, I thought. I won a royal on Jan. 1 and I can just go to the bank.

Every $100 I put in, I check my wallet to see how much further I could go. When I’m in this mode, usually with slots, I’ll spend everything I have. I remember in Atlantic City when slot machines accepted coins, I’d put in my last nickel before boarding the shuttle back to D.C. At least now, I leave myself with a few dollars.

I put in a fourth $100, leaving $100. I really don’t want to go below that, because what happens if my car breaks down and I need cash for a taxi somewhere, and being stranded in Gary, Indiana isn’t the most pleasant of places, unlike The Music Man and little Ronnie Howard would have you believe.

I’m losing losing losing, and then I get a dealt flush.

Only it’s not a flush.

It’s a dealt royal.

My first royal was holding two cards and getting three perfect, which happens 1 in 16,215 hands.

A dealt royal is every 649,740 hands. Or, a 0.00015391 percent chance.

Two royals in 6 days.

Maybe the world really will end in 2012.

My first royal

2012-01-17T03:56:00.001-05:00

I’ve never had a royal flush.

One caveat: I’ve never had a royal flush in a brick and mortar casino.

I’ve had three royals playing online video poker, back at the beginning of my online gambling days. This was when you could use your credit card to not only deposit but withdraw. One was a progressive for $8000, another was $2500, and both times I felt nothing because I was still down, and the win was gone within a couple days.

The third was when I was bonus whoring online casinos. After exhausting all the sites under my own name, I would set up a different account under grubette’s name (with her permission), take over her NETeller account, and sign up at all the online casinos that had the best bonuses. Then I’d tick off each, meeting the minimum playthrough requirements before cashing out.

Some online casinos had autoplay with perfect strategy, which meant I could get a 99.54 percent game at minimal risk (quarters), and not have to play each hand. The playthrough was 15x the deposit + bonus, and if started overnight it was done by morning.

But it wasn’t, because it paused on a royal for $1000.

In online poker cash games and tournaments, I’ve had between 5 and 7 royals. No bad beat jackpots, no extra money other than the pot.

As of Jan. 1, 2012, I switched over to video poker as my gambling machine of choice (with occasional cheats in slots here and there).

And the first day I switched was the first day I got my live royal.

I did my usual stint of collecting freeplay at the casinos, but instead of slots, I played it through on video poker. I was already up, then moved to blackjack, where I won $325.

I then played poker with mostly locals. $300 went fast on a flopped straight, a turned straight, and a flopped set. All lost.

One was to a kid who just turned 21 to my left. To my right was his father.

After he sucked out with his flush, he kept asking his father, “Dad? Dad, want to leave? I’m up. I won back what I lost. Dad?”

This irritated me enough that I left (after sincerely wishing the kid happy birthday) and saw a $1 Bonus Poker Progressive.

It was a bank of 10 machines, and after playing for 15 minutes, a woman sits down immediately to my right. She plays a little, and her son takes various pictures of her. I had to awkwardly adjust my seating so I wouldn’t be in their Facebook photos.

After she lost her $20, she left with her son and I was back to playing alone.

Down $300 later, I’ve hit about 9 four-to-a-flush hands and can’t connect. I’m cursing that I should at least be able to get one. I can’t even get one, yet three people playing poker against me were easily able to draw to theirs.

Then I’m dealt KcQc with rags plus Ah and wonder if strategy on Bonus Poker is to just hold the Ace and wonder again if it would make a difference if there were a gap, say KcJc or even KcTc. I know often in video poker, I don’t play perfect strategy when it comes to royal cards, but the percentage lost is probably small considering how little I play. I also figured by playing the progressive, it would make up for those mistakes (of course, I fool myself because the paytable hit on the full house and flush already took care of that).

I hold KcQc and deal, then I see all clubs and may have said out loud, “Finally, I get the flush.”

Then the machine locks and I hear quiet jackpot music that I’ve heard so often on other people’s machines.

And I sit there stunned as I see the jackpot message along with the progressive amount of $4276 (they round up to the nearest dollar).

I look around and thankfully no one is in the area. It’s almost midnight on New Year’s Day, and people are still nursing hangovers.

A slot attendant stops over immediately, congratulates me, does some obligatory small talk, then asks if I want a picture of it before I play it off. I ask for a check for the full amount, knowing I would be too tempted to spend a lot of it, but also I don’t care for the tradition of holding out your hand while they count out the money and while would-be thieves can mark and follow you.

I never like to draw any attention to myself whether winning or losing.

In 20 minutes, two different people come over to pay me, and I reluctantly tip them when I really wanted to tip the previous slot attendant.

The rest of the weekend was a little down, but I went home with most of it.

And I stuck with video poker the whole time.

Slots are so 2011

2012-01-16T20:52:00.007-05:00

Toward the end of last year, I was playing more and more video poker with the expectation that in 2012 I would switch over completely from slots.

You can’t win at slot machines. I have the win/loss statements last year and every year before then to prove it.

Like every other form of gambling, slot machines are a negative expectation game.

But what you can do by playing other games is lose less and not lose as fast.

I can still have fun playing video poker or blackjack or pai gow, but the main question is, will I still receive the same comps?

The short answer is: no. The long answer is: it doesn’t matter.

I decided I would be okay with foregoing the free food, rooms, gifts, shows, and freeplay. I’m a comps-oriented player; if I don’t receive some type of offer, I won’t play or go to that casino.

But oh that free food!

And the free gifts!

Pretty much every weekend I go on a free mini-vacation: staying at an elegant hotel, sleeping in a comfortable bed, eating as much as I want, getting a nice massage (once a month), picking up a couple free gifts that I won’t use, and basically just relaxing to the extent that I can while losing money.

When I take an offer, though, even if it’s a free room, I feel obligated to play. Although the offer is a result of past play, I feel bad by not playing.

And that’s how they getcha. Preying on my sense of guilt.

I’m in credit card debt, my weekends are sacrificed by spending all my time at casinos, relationships have suffered, I’ve gained 35 pounds, I don’t write anymore.

I no longer feel guilty about not playing anymore.

The more casinos I stiff by not doing the same level of play, the more my offers will reduce or disappear. This is positive, because no offers = no casino visits for me.

So video poker is in, and hopefully I can gradually wean myself off going to casinos so often.

The 12 Days of Vegas

2012-01-15T23:08:00.000-05:00

I’ve gotten out of the habit of posting, so figured I would try 12 daily postings leading up to my Vegas trip on Jan. 26.

I was just in Vegas last month and don’t particularly want to go back so soon, but it’s continuing grubette’s birthday celebration, which began after Christmas. Vegas was her first choice, and she wanted to rent a house for a week but couldn’t find one that accepted pets.

So instead, the whole grub clan went to the very pet-friendly Palm Springs as a mini-vacation, in lieu of any money we would’ve spent on gifts.

And gambling, as there was a casino right across the street from the hotel.

We’re a family of gamblers, and the past few Christmases have been devoid of presents, with any money instead going to casinos.

It’s not the thought that counts, it’s the winning.

Her birthday dinner was at a Mexican restaurant, and after a few of us downed huge $25 margaritas with a few Cabo Wabo shots in each, we walked back to the hotel. The casino was another 50 yards further.

In the valet area, though, there was an 8-seater golf cart, presumably to transport the elderly to and from the casino.

But it looked too tempting, so I got in and everyone else followed.

We waited for the valet to arrive, and he was a good sport, as some of us raised our hands and screamed like we were in a roller coaster.

While at a stop sign, I saw two older women walking across the street (perhaps because we were in their ride), and I yelled, “Show us your tits!”

I didn’t have the luxury of escaping their mean looks, as we just had to travel another 10 feet before we reached our destination.

grubette generously tipped the valet and thanked him for putting up with us, and we headed into the casino.

2011 Loss/Loss statements

2012-01-10T20:13:00.008-05:00

Warning: this is a shameful post.

In November, I decided 2012 would be the year I would try as long as I could to not play slots, instead sticking to video poker, blackjack (and other table games), poker, and poker tournaments. I gave myself to March to resume slotplay, but judging from these forms below, I should never play slots again.

Win/Loss statements are slowly trickling in from the casinos, and rather than having to visit them in person to request receiving by mail, many are now providing the service online.

I'd thought they'd keep it difficult to obtain, because who really wants to see an entire year's worth of losses that might then smack players into reality?

But perhaps the trade-off in administration to automating it online was too great.

I haven't requested every win/loss statement. I'm discounting those where I've lost under $500.

Casinos where I have a $500 or more loss that haven't yet updated are Venetian/Palazzo, Treasure Island, The Palms, The Cosmopolitan, the MGM Mirage properties, Wynn/Encore, and Majestic Star.

Here are the others:

I visited Sunset Station twice last year and Red Rock once.

Stations as well as any off-Strip casinos are supposed to have better slot payback percentages, but I never felt that way.

As much as I've dropped in as few visits, my offers just haven't been up to par, especially for being a non-local. So my guess is they don't just take Average Daily Theoretical loss per visit but by another equation. When I lived in Vegas, Sunset was my home casino and I received promos and gift offers three times a week. Now I just receive hotel offers, free buffets, and $70 freeplay. Not enough.

I plan to stiff them (taking an offer and not playing, or doing very little play) next time I'm there.

Silverton used to be on my favorite list, but I've since stiffed them and no longer receive offers. Last time I was in Vegas in December, I had to use up $450 in comps or else it would expire by the end of the year. They were switching to a new system, and no amount of pleading (I took it past my slot host to his manager) could make them see how bad a business decision this was to expire comp dollars rather than transfer them over to the new system. They would rather alienate loyal players (without notification -- had I not gone to Silverton on a whim, I would've returned to find that $450 gone) than find a way to convert. I never received one hint of compassion from anyone but Rose, the front desk clerk. Rick Funke, the host I spoke to, was incredibly dismissive without bothering to look up my account to see if there was anything he could do.

I have no reason to visit Silverton again, and I hope locals stop visiting their casino and they file Chapter 11 soon.

Since I was there to meet a friend when I found out about the expiration, I tried to find the most expensive meal I could find, but it ended up being the buffet. Then I picked up grubette and Doug from the airport, explained my comp situation, and returned to Silverton to pick up a steakhouse dinner for all of us. Before that, I picked up drinks for random strangers anonymously.

grubette and I were drinking at the Mermaid Lounge, and whenever someone came up to the bar, I'd signal to the bartender to put whatever they were ordering on my tab. It was a fun way to pay it forward.

Then I put the rest on a Starbucks gift card (which converted at an awful 50 cents on the dollar).

This is Gold Coast, which I'm now stiffing. I was at the suite RFB (room-food-beverage) level, but their suites are old school and all-smoking. I counted seven ashtrays and smelled of smoke just walking through, before dropping to a renovated room, which was better. I do like their rooms and the vibe of the place. Plus the Chinese restaurant is the most authentic on the Strip that it might as well be in Chinatown. And the location couldn't be beat, being next door to Rio during World Series of Poker time, and across from The Palms. But I can get free rooms at Rio anytime, and my play at The Palms has increased so I can just stay there (despite their insane $15/day resort fee that is not waived for free rooms like other hotel-casinos).

Gold Coast is a Boyd property, and I've been lucky enough to win a couple promotions, including $1,000 and $200 (which was originally $400 with a 1 in 5 pick to win $4,000). I suspect perhaps they skewed winners to Emerald players or to those who were their higher players (not hard to do in a locals casino), but of course that wouldn't be legal, right?

This is Four Winds, which is in New Buffalo, Michigan, and I go at least twice a month. This month, it's been every week because I'm now using up freeplay and collecting gifts without playing. They've already dropped me to a small amount of freeplay, so I have no reason to keep going. I get free rooms, but they're worthless because they make you arrive by 6 p.m. (Eastern time) or else give it up to someone else since they have such a long wait list.

This is Blue Chip, also a Boyd property (I won $500 here in a promotion, furthering my theory that higher players are more likely to win their drawings), and about 25 minutes away from Four Winds. It makes sense to cut this casino out of my "tour" along with Four Winds, and I've already started to.

This one is tough, because I was getting free steakhouse dinners and free $100 toward the spa (including massages) in addition to the rooms and freeplay. They also always gave me suites, and I love their hotel (and I can check-in way past 6 p.m. -- one time I checked in at 6:30 a.m.).

But I'll also love not driving 90 minutes each way for a mini-vacation of losing.

This is Caesars Entertainment, and the only winners are casinos I haven't actually been to.

grubette used my card to play 1 point in order to enter their Great Race to Rewards promotion in St. Louis. mamagrub did the same in Laughlin. By swiping in different locations, $150 each in comp dollars was added to my account. Someone should've definitely been fired for that promotion because of how easy it was to advantage play it.

Caesars Entertainment is difficult to cut off completely.

The Diamond card is useful for skipping lines and getting priority service, particularly in Vegas. Offers are all dependent on play, but I'd been getting rooms at any of their properties nationwide, and at Horseshoe Hammond, I get free gifts and shows.

I called my new Executive Host requesting Kelly Clarkson tickets, and he wasn't able to get them. I was going so much that my freeplay has dropped, but with the winter months coming it'll be a good excuse to try to keep away.

Or I can consolidate everything into Harrah's and try for Seven Stars status. Diamond is 11,000 points, or $55,000 playthrough in one year. That's easy to do, and I've been Diamond the past eight years now. Seven Stars is 100,000 points, or $500,000 playthrough. Double the requirements for video poker.

So $1 million playthrough in video poker means an expected $10,000 loss for every payback percentage. Even playing a 97.3 percent game of Jacks or Better 8/5, I'd be in a better position than my slot losses, plus I would be Seven Stars.

That'd be 800,000 hands of poker at quarter denom, or the same number of hands Bob Dancer plays every year.

Or I could just sit at home and watch porn.

In 2011, I won five W2-G handpays off slots totaling $9,642.09. I can write federal taxes off against the losses, but I still need to pay state tax.

By the way, this doesn't even include what I lost online up through Black Friday, April 15. Slotplay and casino visits definitely picked up after I was no longer able to play poker or blackjack online (and after I got a car).

I cannot afford to continue losing this much. My credit cards are maxed, my 401(k) is depleted, and all stocks and options are cashed out.

The next post will be a bit of good news of a couple very lucky and unexpected wins, and hopefully a sign of what 2012 has in store.

Just as long as I stay away from slot machines.

Memories of freeplay

2011-11-27T09:43:00.002-05:00

One thing constantly on my mind while on Thanksgiving vacation in San Diego is the $910 in freeplay that I’m missing out on at the Indiana/Michigan casinos that I usually hop every weekend. Now this would probably end up saving me money, as I rarely leave a slot machine without going through all of that freeplay and more. If it were all in one lump, I’d have a better shot of walking. But in $40, $50, and $60 increments per casino, there’s no chance. I need to have at least $200 before I can even think about going to the next casino.

I’m a freeplay/comps type of player, where I won’t play unless I’m getting something back. I rarely play without a card. By playing on that card, I get comps, which gets me back to the casino. If I were to stop play, I wouldn’t get comps, and I wouldn’t have any reason to go.

So that’s what I’ll be attempting, as hard as it is. The one upside is it will be during the winter months, when I’m also less likely to make the effort to go.

One day I’ll look back on this time and think how could I ever have gotten in this mess. But in the midst of it, I just think one casino to the next.

And speaking of, while on the break, I dragged my family to the Barona casino (no comps, yet I played anyway).

And in two minutes, I’m about to disembark to Harrah’s Rincon.

And I’m heading to Las Vegas tonight, a full four days before the blogger tournament.

Yeah, I have problems.

Signs you're a gambling addict

2011-11-21T08:54:00.003-05:00

Here's how to tell you're addicted to gambling (or, a rundown of my weekend in order):

You drive 40 miles to the riverboat casino to pick up a free $20 coupon off a Butterball turkey and you don’t cook.

You visit and play at 4 casinos twice each over the course of the weekend.

You have a combined $400 in slot freeplay and you don’t come home with any of it.

Even though you never end up playing poker, you need the casino to have a poker room so you can have a pretense to go.

You play video poker in the bar even though drinks aren’t free.

You’re down $200 in blackjack and make it all back plus $200. And you feel alive.

You see that Kelly Clarkson is coming to Horseshoe Hammond (I know, girlfriend!) and ask to speak to a host for free tickets. At 4 a.m.

You play in the Asian room of the casino so you can suck on the free Jolly Ranchers and get free food at the noodle bar that the white devil doesn’t know about.

There’s a gray hair in your stack of chips, but you think of it as a lucky hair and leave it.

You’re down $200 in pai gow and make it all back. And you feel alive.

You eat at the buffet. Then you eat a second dinner at 4:30 a.m. Because it's all free.

You gamble for 10 hours and then drive to another casino to gamble another 3.

During those 3 hours, you put $5,000 coin-in into the Win It Again slot machine. And you lose what you expect to lose.

You stare back at a slot player who’s been watching you play and say, “Are you some type of Mongoloid?” (no offense to the Mongoloids)

Last week, after you won a $938 progressive on Cashman Tonight, another player staring at you said, “I deserve a percentage of that.” You asked why, and she said, “Because most of that’s my money.” You know that most of that is not her money, and that you were responsible for $28 of that progressive increment, which at 1.5 percent coin-in (1.5 cents goes to the progressive for every $1 playthrough), is a lot. You consider various responses, including “You deserve a bath,” but instead you just say, “Fuck off.”

After those 3 hours of heavy slot play, you ask for a food comp and use it to get a Cobb salad, peanut M&Ms, and a Diet Coke. And a second meal of a submarine sandwich, peanut M&Ms, and a Diet Coke. But they say you can’t get the M&Ms because the price of the candy went up. So you say skip the Cobb salad and sandwich, and just give me the M&Ms and Diet Cokes.

You get a hotel room at 10 a.m. and ask for a late checkout, but you only need the room to crash for 4 hours.

It’s a handicapped room because you checked in so late, but you don’t care because you won’t be showering.

One contact lens won’t come out, and that’s how you fall asleep.

You eat the free food in the player’s lounge to save money for gambling.

You’re down $200 in blackjack and make it all back plus $400. And you feel alive.

You call a cocktail server “baby.”

You kick yourself for forgetting to use a $40 freeplay ticket and consider an hour’s detour and a 40-mile roundtrip plus tolls to take advantage of it. Ultimately you don’t, but it bothers you the rest of the night.

You’re upset you can’t use points to pay cash advance fees.

You say “fuck” a lot to the slot machine.

A security guard begins watching you after you hit the slot machine button too hard a few times.

You’re down $400 in blackjack and make it all back plus $100. And you feel alive.

You get an $18 food comp for the kiosk in the bus loading area, but you continued to play after the food comp was issued, and the kiosk closed.

While switching the food comp, the player’s club rep says, “$18 sure is a lot for the kiosk.” You refrain from saying how much you’ve lost to their casino and how you’re probably paying for their salary so don’t give me that smug look you fat fuck, and instead just say, “I take what I can get.”

You know that the deli takes forever, so you use the comp on 12 bags of Miss Vickie’s Sea Salt and Vinegar chips.

You call the casino hotel to say you’ll be late. And you’re calling from another casino.

You check-in to the casino’s hotel at 11:05 p.m., which is early for you considering last weekend you checked in at 5:30 a.m. and the front desk asked if you were checking out.

Your hotel room is again a handicapped room, because you checked in so late. But it’s nicer at this casino because of the handheld enema shower wand.

You play too late at one casino and you call another casino’s steakhouse to place an order that will be ready by the time you get there 10 minutes after they close. They stay open for you and greet you by name with a handshake at the door.

You don’t eat the full amount of your $120 steakhouse comp, because tipping is still on the full amount, and you want to save that for gambling.

This casino dropped your offers for December so you plan to drop it from your casino hopping, but then you dump everything you have into Win It Again and do $10,000 coin-in.

You’re a 99 percenter because of income and also because you haven’t showered yet.

You break a lunch date so that you can stay at the casino longer.

You’re down $200 in blackjack and make it all back plus $280. And you feel alive.

You don’t mind the $5.99 ATM fee.

You don’t mind losing $600 in Win It Again, because you know one spin could get it all back.

You vow never to play Wint It Again again, and you Twitter it too.

You stay and play at the final casino until 3 p.m. so you can pick up a free turkey, but you left the coupon at home because you didn’t expect to be at the casino through Sunday. And you get upset at the player’s club for not giving you a substitute coupon. And you don’t really need a turkey because you’re going away for Thanksgiving anyway.

You win all sessions in blackjack, lose all sessions in slots, come out down $900 overall, and think it was a good weekend.

Making out with a stripper

2011-09-30T20:11:00.002-04:00

Last year I got a stripper fired for making out with her.

We were in Vegas at Cheetah’s, we were in heavy chat mode about life and movies for an hour, and when she found out how long I was in town, she said we should get together for a movie.

If this were said after throwing money at her for dances, I’d take it to mean something else. But I did think it was innocent.

There are certain codes in a strip club where you can ask without asking, and it’s all understood. For example, ask a stripper (or anyone really), “What time do you get off?” That implies you want to see them after their shift. If she responds with, “I can leave anytime I want,” you’re golden.

Thumper (named because of a small rabbit tattoo on her back) had just started in the dancing industry and didn’t upsell (or even sell) at all. It was a nice flirty conversation with her happening to be on my lap.

A friend had enough watching the two of us and said, “I think grubby needs a dance,” and threw her $20.

She said, “I don’t think grubby needs a dance,” and gave the money back.

But we went to the back corner anyway, and when the next song started, she got on my lap and went into full French kissing.

And it was the hottest kissing I’ve ever had.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and the bouncer gave the no-no sign with his fingers.

When he left, we went back to kissing. She got the tap and this time left to talk to him. She came back and said, “We can’t make out anymore.”

Back to the lapdance, I started nibbling on her ear. She took off her earrings for better access.

The bouncer called her over again, and she returned and said, “I just got fired and have to leave.”

My first thought was that it would be pretty inappropriate to ask how to get in touch with her, but I did anyway. She said she was okay with leaving, that she danced at another club (an all-nude club, so she may not have been as innocent as I thought). I gave her some money and she was scooted off.

Later the story became apocraphyl, as other strippers gossiped, “Did you hear what happened to Thumper? She sucked a guy off and was fired.” And, “I heard the guy had his dick out.”

And it really couldn’t have been more innocent. Our hands didn’t roam, there wasn’t even any grinding. Just kissing.

But that’s a no-no at Cheetah’s, or they needed to make an example out of the new girl, or they just wanted a reason to get rid of her. Because you can always spot strippers kissing guys.

Later the valet told me that she wasn’t really fired but given a three-week probation.

But I never saw Thumper again.

Advantage-playing Harrah's Great Race to Rewards

2011-09-15T20:27:00.003-04:00

Harrah’s (now officially Caesars Entertainment, but I’m resistant because Harrah’s sounds friendlier) is running a terrific promotion called the Great Race to Rewards.

But they aren’t advertising it too much, I suspect because it’s such a good offer that maybe they messed up the requirements, weren’t able to correct it, and now are trying to bury it.

The promo is: visit 3 different Harrah’s destinations (in different cities, so any Harrah’s property in Las Vegas counts as one) and you’ll receive 15,000 rewards credits. This is equivalent to a $150 comp, which you can use at any Harrah’s nationwide for food, hotel, shows, spa, gift shop, etc. At some casinos you can get cashback at 50 cents on the dollar, so $75 cash.

If you visit a fourth Harrah’s casino, you’ll get another 15,000. And so on, with a max of six destinations and 60,000 total credits. There are 20 total destinations.

The kicker is, they only require earning 1 point ($5 coin-in on slots, $10 coin-in on video poker) to register your destination. And some casinos have kiosks set up, so you just swipe your card to register without playing at all.

(At your first destination, you do need to opt-in to the promo, which can be done at the TR desk, a kiosk, or online.)

Didn’t anyone at Harrah’s think that this new social network era would facilitate players exchanging cards across cities? When redeeming points, the casinos (almost) always check for I.D., and you can easily get another free card at the Total Rewards desk, so the only hassle is mailing cards around.

Why didn’t they require a minimum 100 points? That would at least get players to play $500 coin-in.

Or why wouldn’t they require you to check-in at the Total Rewards desk, to verify you are who you say you are?

And why so much? People would do this if it were 10x less, at just $15 for each destination.

It really does seem they’re giving money away.

The one downside is it will hurt future offers by slashing your Average Daily Theoretical if you hit-and-run without playing. But for those who don’t care about that or for those who are unrated, it’s an easy way to grab $600 in comps... that’s enough to pay for a couple nights at Planet Hollywood during the blogger get-together in December. And right across Las Vegas Blvd. is Aria, where the tourney is taking place.

The offer expires Sept. 30, and comps will be credited to accounts on Oct. 3.

More information -- with all 20 destinations -- is here.

Admitting you're powerless to freeplay is the first step

2011-09-09T07:21:00.003-04:00

I picked up the car on Wednesday.

Wednesday night I went to the casino.

At Horseshoe Hammond, my freeplay is $40 each weekday and $50 each for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Plus additional incentives like gifts, food, shows, and extra freeplay scattered throughout. They have no hotel (or else I’d be staying there) and can offer better comps without that overhead.

That’s for September. Harrah’s reevaluates offers based on your play the prior 3 months. Last year, after one crazy month of gambling, I had $100 freeplay every day, but I didn’t have a car and was only able to go a few days. That lack of play then lopped me down 3 months later, and since then I’ve hovered at $35 to $50 per day in a month (my break point, which they probably know, is $20. It isn't worth going for $20). They always give the same daily offer for the entire month, so if you want to stiff them, you’d be able to do it across an entire month by taking the daily freeplay and running. Though for me and a lot of players, casinos know the goal is to get you inside and in front of a machine, because you’re not likely to just play the freeplay. No, because it’ll give you a taste of gambling that you won’t want to stop.

You can kill two birds by going before midnight and using one freeplay offer, then staying after midnight to use the next day’s offer.

And if you go before 10 p.m., you can grab a free meal at the Diamond Lounge.

So that’s what I did.

For food, the Diamond Lounge at Hammond is better than the ones in Las Vegas (but not better than Atlantic City). Every day they’re open from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., and every day they offer a different hot meal, along with soup, salad, and sandwich options, and a dessert.

Wednesday’s meal was chicken fajitas, rice, Mexican corn, pozole, and a brownie. I always get two drinks: a Diet Coke and a bottled water for later (which comes in a large size, unlike the small bottled waters on the casino floor).

I figure I save $10 just on the meal.

Then it was time to play.

The first $40 freeplay went into Cashman Tonight, the only game on their floor that I like to play. It’s a nice, non-volatile game that will get you back the most of your freeplay. You won’t really hit big, but you won’t really lose a big chunk of it either.

I usually hunt down a Cashman Tonight game based on their Major and Minor progressives. If the Major is 1.5x the reset value, I’ll play. If the Minor is 3x the reset value, I’ll play.

There are four Cashman Tonight games at Horseshoe. Two are 2 cent, and two have been recently converted to 1 cent. It seems as if Horseshoe is changing all of their games to penny, and I’m not sure whether it’s because of the economy (Horseshoe has always been pretty packed, unlike Vegas) or another reason. They’ve been advertising that they have more penny games than anywhere else, with more to come. They may be positioning themselves to compete against Rivers, a new casino that just opened and is their direct competition. A bit of misleading advertising, considering the penny games aren’t new, they’ve just converted old nickel and 2 cent games. But it may get Rivers players to check out Horseshoe again. If I were Horseshoe, I would begin offering free shuttle buses from the Rosemont Blue Line (where Rivers is located) plus $5 freeplay, to lure players back.

I prefer the 2 cent version of Cashman, and seeing the Minor that met my criteria, I quickly ran the $40 up to $300 (without getting either progressive). Kept playing until 11:30 p.m., when I hit my loss limit: if I got down to $120, I’d cash out. Of course, that’s what I said at various intervals and I kept adjusting. But sealing it for me was a stinky guy to my left and a woman who won the Major on the other Cashman after 10 spins at min bet and counting out each of the picks by “eenie meenie miney moe.” I need external reasons to leave, because otherwise I’d stay on the machine until broke.

Horseshoe has the biggest poker room in the Midwest. At one time Majestic Star was the place to go for poker, but when the remodeled Horseshoe opened two years ago, they stole all the players, and now it’s consistently crowded with cash games and midday tournaments. I took Tuesday off and played the noon $110 tourney and it attracted 94 players. They had 6 tables reserved, so they expected more. The players were too good and I didn’t adjust correctly. I’ll have to try a weekend tourney again.

My plan as it usually stands is to run through the first freeplay, then poker until midnight, then the second freeplay.

But once I sit at a slot, I can’t get up. So lucky for me the stinky guy sat down.

Half an hour wasn’t too long to wander and wait, and after a woman busted out of the penny Cashman Tonight, I sat down. Both progressives met my criteria, and I settled in to play.

And kept playing and kept playing. My goal was now to get the wheel spin bonus, which gives you a chance at the progressives. I’m guessing you’re 1 in 5 to get either of the progressives, and I’d be happy with just one.

Once I hit the Minor for $180, I was still in the hole for $300. I was into my own money now, having lost the $120 from the other game.

This is not what I set out to do, but what usually ends up happening. In the future I need to leave cash and credit cards at home so that I play purely on freeplay. And if I lose that, it was all house money anyway.

Met a woman named Daisy, who was playing Buffalo next to me. I normally don’t strike up conversations, but I noticed she had $100 of freeplay (we both had waited until midnight to play) and I wanted to find out how much she’d played to get that (I assumed she had $100 per day). I also noticed she would download $15 freeplay at a time to the game and play minimum, so based on her play, I guessed she hit big and played a lot off that 3 months ago. And that’s what had happened – she had hit the 9 symbols in the Quick Hit progressive.

I’m fascinated by how Harrah’s markets to players. It’s all about coin-in and time spent playing. They know the longer you play, the more the game will balance to be in their favor. But I had thought for the higher offers, you’d need a higher average coin-in. Maybe I can play like Daisy and still get big offers. Trouble is, I have no patience for the minimum bet.

Chatting with Daisy also kept a governor on my swearing, which is increasingly foul while I’m playing. I’m not like that at the tables or poker, just at the machines that can’t talk back.

Once Daisy hit for 400x in Buffalo, she called it “a blessing” and left to play Quick Hit.

I stewed on Cashman for another hour before finally hitting the Major for $600. Played off another $100 when Daisy returned and congratulated me for getting it.

That interruption was welcome, because I could break my trance and cashout.

Which I did, $320 up for the night.

It made the drive back more pleasant, but it always scares me how willing I am to spend everything I have just to get that goal.

So I’m now $320 toward the $2300 car repair bill, even though I didn’t play by my set rules of just freeplay.

The next night, I splurged on a $40 haircut and a $5 Starbucks pumpkin spice latte.

Tonight and tomorrow I have $360 in freeplay spread across 6 casinos (some duplicates). I’ll be casino hopping all over the place, which gives me a time limit. If I stay too long at one, I won’t have time to play at another. Unlike Vegas, they’re all spaced far apart. If I ever lost my job or have extended time off, I'd rent a place for a month in Hammond to more easily visit Horseshoe daily.

My goal as usual is to playthrough once, then cashout. I hope to come back with $200 of it. Actually, anything positive would be good.

Freeplaying car repairs

2011-09-07T20:33:00.005-04:00

Two weeks ago this happened:

Somehow I ran into a telephone pole. At work. On camera.

This is the pole:

Your first thought might be, how the hell do you run into a pole that big? Was I drunk? Was it raining? Am I Asian?

I admit I had a sake flight and some beers the previous night, but this was the next morning and it was a bright, sunny day. It was a lane I don't usually go down, and while idle I leaned over, scanning for a parking spot. I think the act of craning my neck put the pole completely in my blind spot.

And I stepped on the accelerator and ran right into it.

Shit.

Dubiously glad to see I didn't hit another car or person or baby, I backed up, drove around the pole, saw that there wasn't a parking space after all, then parked elsewhere.

Assessing the damage ("yeah, it's fucked up"), it was drivable and I picked a nearby place at random, which then recommended an auto body shop. They were friendly enough but quoted "a few thousand dollars." Yelp gave them phenomenal reviews, and they came back with a lower estimate once they found I didn't have collision insurance and the pole was uninsured.

I had just purchased the car for $2500 a few months ago, and it's worth a bit more than that. Though it contributed to more casino trips than my usual, I was also going to the gym, getting groceries, even going out on a few dates. And with winter coming, it's really nice having a car.

With the gambling going downhill, I didn't have the money to pay for it. A quick call to Visa, however, extended my credit limit.

So I was able to pay this:

The final cost was the same as their new estimate, which was to get it in drivable condition with "lowest possible cost budget repair," "most cost effective parts available," and "most operations not 100 percent."

They also threw in a free t-shirt, flashlight, and keychain.

I have about this much in freeplay this month. I'll see how much I can recover, and will report it in these blog pages. (And then I'll get help.)

Five years ago, my other car was hit by a snowplow in another work parking lot. It was totaled, insurance wrote me a check for $3500, and I gambled it all away.

We have one more parking lot, which I'm avoiding because the car accident gods are just screaming for a trifecta.

Or maybe cars and me just don't mix.

Back to poker

2011-08-31T20:21:00.002-04:00

I have daily freeplay offers at Horseshoe through September, and my goal is to go three times a week, grab the free meal, run through the freeplay, then play poker. I have other goals involving the other casinos, which also involve using freeplay as well as their hotel rooms. The long-term goal is to decrease my incentive to go by getting them to stop sending me offers. And while I could exclude myself from offers or even from stepping foot into their casinos, I want to take as much as I can.

(I’m still holding back on recounting the degeneracy that resulted after my Vegas trip, but soon.)

My jump back into live poker last night found me running into a friend at the train stop, who I convinced to tag along with me. We sat in someone’s leftover stink on the shuttle bus, then we separated once at the casino, with him at pai-gow and me at the Diamond Lounge with a plate of beef tips and noodles, peas, and pumpkin pie and tapioca pudding for dessert.

The Diamond Lounge offers select cocktails for $2. They can’t legally give away alcohol for free but they can make you drunk for cheap.

I went with a Diet Coke and a bottled water, which is always the big bottle unlike the small ones that litter the floor.

My $50 freeplay went fast in Cashman Tonight, where the Major Progressive was close to $1000 (it resets at $500). I took $300 from the ATM, leaving my bank account at $200. It occurred to me that I now have more on my bus/train transit card than my bank account.

I chased the progressive too much and was down $200 before heading to poker and neglecting to snatch my free buffet coupon (play at least 25 points in 30 minutes to qualify), which was closed anyway and besides that my stomach was gurgling from the noodles.

Cashman Tonight is the only slot machine left in this casino that I’ll play, and I’ll only play it when the progressives are worth playing for. Weak.

My friend put “Grub” on the board and they pronounced it the Swedish way, “Groob.”

The bad beat jackpot was $100,000, which is where it starts, so it must’ve just hit. They’ve done away with the wall behind the front desk, and they’ve moved the waiting list screens to the entrance. Both good moves, as it makes the already large room feel more open.

I settled in at an actiony 1/2 game with my last $100. Action meaning everyone is calling big raises, but not many people are raising preflop.

Seeing lots of flops for cheap, getting lots of action on raises, and players re-buying often is a fun time for me.

I wasn’t in the hand when a raise and reraise all-in was $49 preflop, and 5 people called. They then checked all the way down.

Basically I played straight with no real moves. It was surprising how easy it was to read people when you didn’t have to put meaning into how long before they clicked the BET button.

Saw some strange things, such as a $100 pot and the raiser bet $35 on the flop. His heads-up opponent raised all-in for another $17 and the raiser folded. Even with nothing, I’m calling there, if not just to see what he has and adjust from there.

When I was in Vegas a few weeks ago, I played the 7 p.m. Binion’s tournament, and from a field of 100+ a few years ago, it was down to a shameful 6. I raised preflop with 8-9 then bluffed a reraise on the flop. The guy went all-in for 10 percent more. I couldn’t even get a straight, the best I could do would be runner runner trips or two-pair. I called and showed my 9 high. Which stayed as my high card after the turn and river. But the pot was just too big not to call. (I later busted out in 4th after doubling up every player but one. I like to throw around chips once I’m chip leader.)

Back to the 'Shoe in Hammond, Indiana. Much check-calling on draws, where I’m used to people betting or raising with them, like I do or like players did online.

I won a pot with 77 that I didn’t play well. I just called a preflop raise, then called the rag flop, called the 8 turn, and called the rag pair river. Bleah. My calls told me nothing. Heads-up, I would’ve raised to see where I was, but two others were in the hand (another reason to raise to get them out), one probably on a draw (he kept short-buying and was all-in), one probably a small pair. And the BB betting out the whole way had me worried he tripped up. He called out two pair, for a pair of 2s with A-2 plus the 3s on the board. I took the pot, feeling I didn’t deserve it the way I played.

An hour later I’m up to $350 when I get Aces in the BB. Almost everyone limped in, maybe even some people from the next table as well.

Getting to me, I threw in some chips that turned out to total $27. No good can come of that, but I was playing to my image of tossing chips around once I’d doubled up. I also thought perhaps someone might isolate with a reraise.

But nope, six people called. Including the SB who after hem-hawing, threw in his $25 because of pot odds.

Flop was a dream for draws: 3c9c10x.

SB bet $150. I quickly glanced ahead and figured he’d get at least one caller. My move was either all-in or fold. All-in, he was definitely calling because he had $150 behind. A good bet.

I folded, one other person called (the short-buyer), everyone else folded, and I got to see that I would’ve lost to a straight on the turn.

I was thankful he bet out that much, because had he checked I would’ve bet and then been committed.

If I can only lose $27 with Aces the rest of my life, I wouldn’t mind losing with them.

The last hand I played was 10-10, where a raise to $17 attracted four callers. A bet of $30 on the rag flop got the short-buyer to call (he had $5 left and didn’t go all-in) but no one else. He had K-2 and picked up a King, but I love his range whenever he got shortstacked.

Ended the session after 2 hours because of the shuttle bus back. About $200 up, which made up for my Cashman loss. My friend was also up $200 from another table (plus $25 from pai-gow).

It was past midnight so I ran my next day's $50 freeplay through White Orchid with a bad run that netted only $10 after 1x playthrough.

I still like poker.

Credit card roulette

2011-08-28T15:00:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I wonder just how unlucky one person can be. Namely, me.

I once flipped a coin with a friend and lost 8 times in a row (we were betting each time, and each time the amount increased if not doubled).

I once flipped a coin with another friend and lost 25 percent of my life insurance.

Cashman Tonight’s progressives were in an advantageous amount a couple weeks ago, and even though I got the progressive bonus 7 times, I couldn’t get either progressive. And half those times, I got the worst prize of credits, which were less than my bet). Yep, Cashman Tonight caused my wagon fall, but that’s another post that I’ll go into later this week.

I’m now in a weird position of not having any cash and needing to pay everything by credit card. Going to lunch, coworkers will play credit card roulette where everyone puts in their credit card and the server will blindly draw the card that pays for the meal. To enhance the anticipation (because we work in gaming, after all), we also play where the server picks one at a time, and the card that’s left has to pay.

Whoever doesn’t play pays in cash, and a more devious twist is that cash is split up among the winners. So the winners get a free lunch and some cash. The loser still pays the entire bill.

Knowing my luck, I’ve always sat out on the game, but not having cash forced me to play.

Last week, we tried a new restaurant. The bill was $87. Everyone paid cash except me and one other. The sign said “No split cards,” so we had to play. I lost and paid the $87. At least the owner gave us complimentary pastries to go.

Then on Friday we added more people and went to another place. People had cash but a few wanted to play. The bill was $187. I lost.

I added a twist beforehand that if there’s enough cash, it went to the tip. This acted as kind of a server saver to ensure they get 20 percent off the bat... because the server would be persona non grata to the loser, which isn’t good while the loser is figuring out the tip.

Now technically, the two amounts included my own lunch, so it’s really $67 and $167. But still, a hefty price to pay, and it signals that I’ll be all-in on credit card roulette at least the next several times.

Because I can’t lose every time, right?

Four months later

2011-08-15T23:08:00.002-04:00

Four months after Black Friday finds me in an actual worse financial situation, but with more time on my hands. Both not unrelated, idle hands being the devil’s tools and all that.

Before April 15, I was playing on Full Tilt about 4-6 hours every weeknight, and double that on the weekends. I planned things around playing online poker, or more specifically, earning enough points that day to achieve Iron Man, often playing through midnight EST (11 p.m. Central, which I felt was bonus time) to earn the next day’s minimum points and qualify for Iron Man. Then I could take the next night off, though I rarely did.

And I’d been doing this for over 3 years, attested by my 40 or so months-in-a-row as Iron Man.

In March, I stopped playing online blackjack. Like Black Friday but much less publicized, it was forced upon me, as payment processors dropped and online casinos ceased accepting U.S. customers.

At one online casino (Bodog), I was getting an instant 10 percent bonus of my deposit to play with – with no limit or playthrough requirements – plus a 25 percent comp on any losses. This was in addition to the twice-weekly bonuses based on play.

And they defined “bonus” and “comp” in a way that I could advantage play.

I would deposit $1000, have $1100 to play with, and if I lost that, I’d wait a few days and have $250 in my account.

If I advantage played, I could wait a week, then play the $250. If I lost that, I could wait a few days and have $62.50. I could even use the bonus to play poker. Or I could have just withdrawn it without any play.

Of course, I never did advantage play and instead played like they wanted me to play. Plus more. If I didn’t know any better, psychologists and gambling addiction specialists are behind these promotions.

Bodog soon stopped U.S. transactions, then another site, then another, and then Full Tilt, where I did all my online poker playing.

I was a staunchly blind Full Tilt supporter, preferring the software more than any other site, but after everything that’s been happening since then, I’m doubtful I’ll ever see the $950 or so that was in my account. I was getting paid via my account for keeping their ad on the blog, but as there’s no way to pay me, it’s been up there for free for 4 months. I’m now taking it down.

So a forced cold turkey as of April 15. Then 21 days to break the habit (so they say is the average time needed to change).

My substitute drug was live casinos. Since then, I’ve been to Vegas twice, and the 5 casinos in Indiana/Michigan numerous times, once every three days.

I went for the freeplay, the free gifts, the free food. Always costing $18 in gas and tolls to visit the nearest one. And always with the pretext of going just for the free stuff and then I’d just play poker.

But the concept of maintaining play to keep getting the free stuff was too strong, and I’d play much further past the freeplay 1x requirement. And I only played live poker twice, both times in Vegas this past week.

At Harrah’s Horseshoe Hammond, I’m now in the General Manager’s Club, a new unadvertised tier level that’s between Diamond (11,000 tier points, or $55,000 coin-in) and Seven Star (100,000 tier points). I’d estimate 25,000 tier points are needed to gain entry, though it’s nothing more than a nice free gift each month and some hors d’oeuvres and cocktails.

I’d probably be Seven Star by now, but I’ve been spreading my play at other casinos. At Blue Chip, I’m getting a free gift, $100 massage, $125 steak dinner, $150 freeplay, and suite every month. At Majestic Star, I had over $2500 in freeplay in July... and ended up losing more than that.

All from playing penny slots.

And you can’t win playing slots, much less penny slots.

At Full Tilt or even online blackjack, I would sometimes win.

Playing at the boats, I don’t win at all. All I have to show the past 4 months is an overdrawn bank account, maxed credit cards, and too many cash advances (no fees at Four Winds if you advance $1000 or more). And I still have the messy apartment and bad eating habits.

Now it’s time for the turnaround. I’ve said it multiple times before, that even I no longer believe when I say it. But I’m giving myself 21 days to not play another slot machine (with the exception of freeplay, where I’ll cashout as soon as the playthrough requirement is met). My offers should have dwindled by then to the extent that I won’t have any incentive to play.

And if I can’t do that, I’ll finally get some help.

The Rule of the Hammer

2011-07-23T09:37:00.003-04:00

The Hammer was mentioned in Annie Duke’s terrific new book Deciding to Play Great Poker (I’d cite the page number, but I bought it on Kindle):

At the extreme end of the value scale, we have pocket aces, flat-out the best hand. There’s basically no bluff component to that hand at all. At the other end of the spectrum, you have the Hammer, the lowly 72, an underdog to every other hand in the deck and therefore almost all bluff going in. When you enter the pot with a hand like AA, you know you’re not bluffing. When you play with 72, you know you are.

(When I thanked her for the mention, she said, “I aim to please,” but that it was actually cowriter John Vorhaus who added it.)

Now you may think The Hammer is just the 72 offsuit hand in Hold'em, but in addition to tilting opponents when you slap it down after a successful bluff and yell, “The Hammer,” did you know it can also help you quickly estimate how long it’ll take to double your money (assuming banks, stock market, bookies, etc.)?

All you need to do is divide 72 by the annual interest rate you receive, and you’ll have the approximate number of years to double your investment.

For example, let’s say Chase Bank* offers a 3 percent interest rate on your savings (generous in this economy, I know). You deposit $1000 and after the first year you’ll have $1030. After the next year, compounding interest will add 3 percent of $1030, to give you $1060.90, and so on.

The actual calculation is x = ln(2) / ln(1 + r), where r is the percentage (0.03). You need a scientific calculator to calculate the natural logarithms, which will give you 23.449772250437757151635970310552 years to double your $1000.

Using the Rule of the Hammer, however, you just divide 72 by the percentage number (3). 72/3 gives you 24, a close enough approximation.

But of course, anyone knows the fastest way to double your money is by going against the big stack with a Hammer bluff.

*I mention Chase because grubette pointed me to a terrific offer when you get their Southwest Airlines Visa card. After your first purchase, you’ll receive 50,000 points (worth $833), enough to give you 2 round-trip tickets on Southwest ($99 annual fee applies, but on your anniversary you get $100 worth of points). So if you’re looking for a free flight to the blogger tourney this December (alas, I was denied because of my bad credit)...

The lengths he will go

2011-07-21T21:37:00.002-04:00

It's been so overwhelmingly hot that I look forward to my weekend getaways at casinos where there's plenty of free air conditioning. I've also been staying later at work or heading to the gym early in the morning or right before they close.

Last Wednesday I had a plan for a double-dipping freeplay at the casino but people in town kept me out late drinking that I couldn't make the 5 a.m. call time. At Majestic Star, I have $120 freeplay every 2 or 3 days, but it's daily for Wednesday and Thursday. Their casino day is 6 a.m. to 5:59 a.m., so to take advantage of both freeplays, I'd need to get to the casino before 6 a.m. on Thursday to use Wednesday's freeplay, then play after 6 a.m. to use Thursday's.

This is easy to do when it's midnight to 11:59 p.m. But 6 a.m. would require effort.

This morning, I didn't set the alarm and relied on my own internal clock to tell me whether I really wanted to go. Throughout the night I kept waking, then lapsing back into a dream of going to an audition for a play based on Superman. There was no dialogue, just poses. I could do The Thinker with my chin resting on my fist, but my biceps needed work.

I awoke at 4:45 a.m., thankful not to go to that audition. I tried to go back to sleep, but the idea of gambling was too powerful.

Left at 5 a.m. and without any traffic, got to the casino by 5:45. Headed straight to Win It Again -- All That Glitters 2, loaded the $120 freeplay, and had the worst run in awhile. No bonuses, no Win It Agains.

When past 6 a.m., I switched to another All That Glitters 2 game and loaded the second $120 freeplay. Continued my bad run, and once I'd played through the freeplay 1x, I cashed out.

I'd hoped to get at least $120 from the $240 playthrough, but instead I got less than 10 percent -- $21.65. The cost of gas and tolls were more than that.

Granted, I played more than 1x with the first freeplay, but I needed to while away 5 minutes before 6.

I then drove home, ran into a bit of traffic, slept for an hour, then headed into work.

Sometimes I wonder just how far I'll go to play slots. Like Aron Ralston, if my hand were wedged behind a boulder, would I amputate just to get to the casino in time to use freeplay?

Thinking about it now, it seems like a dream, that I didn't actually wake up in the middle of the night to drive to play slots.

At least it was just freeplay, which I'm still trying to stick to, as I try to recuperate or just stem the bleeding from previous losses.

This weekend is loaded up with more freeplay and AC-full hotel rooms. $40 + buffet at Horseshoe, $75 at Majestic Star, $170 at Four Winds, $50 at Blue Chip, then on the return, a deep fry cooker gift at Four Winds, $120 + steak dinner at Majestic Star, and $50 at Horseshoe. Of the $505, my goal is to come home with $300. Whatever I'm able to preserve I'll use to play poker.

And I'll do the $240 Thursday 5 a.m. again, with maybe a stop at Horseshoe for another $40.

Then the last weekend of the month should be my final freeplay.

Unless more offers come for August.

One is too many, a thousand is not enough

2011-07-18T21:52:00.002-04:00

It's only 24 hours since I've played, but I still feel my slot days have ended. Blowing more than my paycheck and taking out a final credit card advance was another rock bottom for me, and with upcoming expenses and trips, I just can't afford to keep spiraling down, because the next step is selling the car and/or becoming a medical guinea pig.

Gambling to me is perhaps like childbirth where you forget how painful it was and want to do it again next weekend.

So I'm documenting, hoping to not slip this time.

My plan is to run out the rest of my freeplay this month and cashout all my points. I already did that at Four Winds and Blue Chip.

I'm sitting on over 100k points at Harrah's, which translates to $1000 in comps or, at Horseshoe, I can convert to a paltry 2-for-1 $500 freeplay.

But really, what can I do with $1000 in Harrah's comps? I already get free rooms and food. I could use it on shows or massages or the gift shop or a nice meal at Guy Savoy. Or $500 in freeplay, which I wouldn't be surprised to cashout at $300-400 after 1x playthrough.

The new Rivers casino opened today that's closer than where I've been going, but they don't have a poker room. That's always my pretense, because I rarely play anyway, but I use it as a handy excuse. More so now, since when I use my freeplay, I'll be playing poker.

That's right, I said I'll be playing poker. So gear up for some fascinating bad beat stories.

There's no desire for me to go to Rivers, because I don't have any offers, and to build up from scratch is a Herculean effort. Building down will also take willpower, as I suspect I'll get more freeplay offered in August and September before they dwindle to nothing.

Assuming that happens, I will still just take the freeplay and not look back. I feel a certain obligation to play my usual level and length of time, but I need to change my outlook and view them as already earned offers. I should not feel like I'm disappointing my hosts for not playing my usual.

The question is whether the freeplay is enough, because it gives me the taste and I generally just want to keep playing until I lose that and everything else.

And I'm not cutting out gambling, just slots, because you can't win at them.

Willpower.

The life of a slot player

2011-07-17T15:41:00.007-04:00

Weekend casino trips always start with me well-intentioned but usually end in regret with me crying into mirrors.

This past weekend was no different, particularly since Black Friday, having no AC, and having car access.

Here's a little glimpse into where my head's at. And yes, you should be afraid.

It began with Friday early-evening traffic, getting to Majestic Star (Gary, Indiana) in 90 minutes when it usually takes half that.

Used my $75 freeplay on the slot machine Win It Again -- All That Glitters 2, lost that pretty fast, then kept playing until I was out of the $400 that I brought.

I was never up during the session, and triggered the bonus only once for 5x my bet, after 691 spins.

The last time I'd played the same machine was the July 4th weekend two weeks ago, when I was next to a guy who became a career gambler after winning $12 million in the lottery back in the 1980s (he won it on the anniversary of his father's death). He told stories of getting a pat royal on $25 video poker, resulting in $100,000, then while waiting for his payout, moved to another game and did it again. He collected antique cars, owned racehorses, and tried to buy the golf course that MGM Grand now has. His home casino was Tropicana in Vegas, where they would doctor his losses so he'd have more to write off. He played the Don't on craps with Mexican cartel-type characters with a suitcase full of $10k bundles who advised him to stop playing, which was fine with him because he won $50k off the table. He'd fly to Vegas just for an In-N-Out burger, then fly back.

He also said that if he were to do it all over again, he'd rather not have won the lottery.

While I'm playing, I'll typically watch players and their habits. Usually after observing awhile, I can predict and jump to conclusions about them, such as whether they'll put in more money, cash out when down to a certain amount, increase/reduce their bet when getting to a certain amount, cash out and "reset" by putting more money in, remove their player's card during a bonus, hit the buttons in a sequence, touch the screen, talk to the screen, etc.

It's all filed under slot machine myths, superstitions, and fallacies. I share with them the talking to the screen part, or rather, cursing at the screen. I can get pretty filthy, and I'm thinking I should try cursing in French next time to change things up.

When I sat next to the lottery guy, I couldn't read him. He was betting max but cashed out at $335, removed and reinserted his card, then inserted another ticket in for $200. Just that alone made him outside the realm of the typical slot player.

We begain talking after he missed a bonus and he said, "Man, it gets me every time." At first I thought he was spinning tall tales (because why would he be at Majestic Star), but he knew too much about gambling and comping. We both received the same $2500 monthly freeplay, and he said he never uses the scratch tickets (twice weekly, $75 guaranteed with up to $10,000) and instead scratches them all off at once. He has a deal with the player's club reps that if he got the $10k, he'd bring in the ticket, pretend to scratch it off, then share with them later.

We both had our machines above $1000 and were gathering a crowd. Above $1200, the machine spits out a ticket of the difference plus some to get you back under $1200. It happened 7 times, so I had 7 tickets of various amounts. After he left, I played down to $700 and cashed out.

I kept my total 8 tickets a surprise until tallying by the cashier, who called over another cashier to verify her count and to tell me "Congratulations," which I hate, because for all they know you could be down thousands more. It was $1400, so I'd won $900 (then lost it all plus more the rest of the weekend).

But that was two weeks ago.

This past Friday, I was angry at my first bonus in 691 spins when it should've been at least my third. The woman next to me said "finally" when it triggered, and I ignored her. She then elbowed me and said more loudly, "I said, 'Finally.'"

I nodded and said, "Yeah."

I hate being watched while playing slots. I'll turn around and stare right back. I've also asked them not to watch, saying it's unlucky, a plea that plays into their own superstition and seems a polite way to say, "Beat it." I don't think it's lucky or unlucky, I just don't want someone breathing down my neck and getting targeted for a possible shiv attack in the parking lot.

In the bonus, you make blind picks to fill gem levels. Once you fill a level, you win it. You can also fill more than one level at a time, in which case you win more than one.

I was one away from getting all the levels awarded. All I needed was to pick "All Awarded," which would fill in the remaining gem on each level.

Instead, I picked the yellow gem, which awarded the bottom level and ended the bonus.

The woman grabbed me and said, "Only one more!"

I said, "No, it's over."

"Well, at least it's something."

Never have I wanted to clock a fellow slot player. I felt a quick jab to the nose with the palm of my hand would be in order and maybe knock her out for good measure.

And when I start getting violent, it's time to stop gambling.

I did stop, but more because I was out of money.

Swiping my card at the kiosk gave me a $10 food voucher and a pass to the Access Lounge, which was probably the nicest thing in the casino. They seat you and then bring you the meal of the day -- cod, bread, rice, vegetables, cheesecake with marshmallows. Sort of like the Horseshoe Diamond Lounge, except a served buffet.

I picked up $10 of potato chips and popcorn on the way out, then went to Blue Chip in Michigan City, Indiana.

Checked in, lounged in my comfortable suite (and made it to the restroom just in time to evacuate the cod), then headed to Four Winds in New Buffalo, Michigan.

At Four Winds, I had $110 in freeplay plus $90 in points converted to freeplay. Lost that, took $500 from the no-fee ATM, lost that, then took a no-fee $1500 cash advance.

Taking a cash advance is always bittersweet, because you collect from the cage, and there's a similar process as getting paid out the same amount, which draws attention. Now people think you've won that much when it's walk of shame money that you can't afford.

Two weeks ago at Majestic, when I took money out of the ATM, a guy approached me.

"You play poker?"

"No."

"What you play?"

"Slots."

"You doin' all right then?"

I didn't answer, just blankly looked at him, looked at the ATM where I was withdrawing money, then looked back. Then walked away.

The $1500 was also going to be used for the next Vegas trip, so I needed to conserve it. Asked for a food comp from the player's club, which gave me $15. Went to the restroom and heard the familiar sounds of Win It Again.

I looked everywhere at Four Winds and had never seen the game there, but there it was, tucked away in the nonsmoking section.

Sat down and $1000 later, I'm blankly hitting the button while falling asleep, as if I were on autoplay.

Picked up $15 in potato chips, and headed home to Blue Chip at 7 a.m., proclaiming I'm done with Four Winds (at least for the weekend, when I'd planned to go to collect my free beverage set gift on Saturday and mystery $25 or more freeplay on Sunday).

The next day, I used my free massage coupon at the spa on Melissa, who gave an okay massage but didn't do much regarding my bruise after explaining it to her. I did feel relaxed and today, my joints ache like after a good workout. Booked the next one for August and requested someone other than Melissa.

My plan was to just play freeplay and leave, and I only had Blue Chip left.

I played Win It Again again with $50 in freeplay plus $100 in points converted to freeplay. Walked with $83 and picked up the weekly gift, a barbecue tool set.

The free steak dinner was good until acid reflux came up, causing me to get the rest of the meal wrapped before getting to my table.

My plan was then to leave Blue Chip at 5 a.m. in order to get to Majestic right before 6 a.m., which would be when the $120 freeplay expired. Then I'd stay till 10 a.m. to use the $85 freeplay.

But I didn't and just went after 10, turning the $85 freeplay into $300.

So overall, I had $510 in freeplay and lost $1517 of my own. But also got a free gift, massage, food, and hotel.

I promised grubette no more real money play in slots while she promised no more smoking, so all I can do is keep trying.

Well, I can just not go to the casino, but that's out of the question.

I've fallen and I got up

2011-07-10T22:22:00.009-04:00

Two weeks ago, I got up early to do laundry and fell down the back stairs.

I wasn't drunk.

These stairs have always been a hazard, made worse with the landlord still not replacing the light bulbs on my floor and the floor below. I fell before but only slipped a couple stairs. This time I kept going, with the brick wall breaking my fall and the bag of laundry exploded on top of me like a faulty airbag.

I laid there for a few minutes, thinking if I were a few years older my hip would be broken, and that's how I'd be found when I didn't show up for work. Then again, my demise will probably be en route to the riverboat casinos, which is where I've been going every couple days and where I, as usual, got lost:

The blue dot is me, blindly following the signs to the highway. I should've known something was up when I kept driving deeper and deeper into the train yards that had a David Lynch-style electronic moan in the background. It felt like I was in an episode of "Dexter." Creepy stuff, but I noted that it's a great place to hide a body, should I ever need the occasion.

I'm taking the long detour because I've added the Majestic Star casino to my tour of the boats, because after a frenzied 12 hours of straight slot play one night, they sent me the best offers I'd ever seen. And how could I say no?

In July, I get two steak dinners, two free hotel nights every week, four buffets, and almost $2500 in freeplay. The freeplay is divided into scratch tickets twice a week (guaranteed $75 each) and other dates of $120 each.

I combine this with my Horseshoe offer of $40 per day (plus weekly buffet, weekly gifts, and concert tickets), Blue Chip's $50 per week (plus hotel, steak dinner, massage, and weekly gifts), and Four Winds' $110 per week (plus hotel, 2x weekly gifts, and random extra freeplay). That adds up to almost $4500 of freeplay in one month, providing I go to a few of them every day.

A great deal, though in the 10 days I've done the offers so far, I've blown all of the freeplay plus much more, so really it isn't worth it in the long run.

But the escape from my hot and humid apartment is always welcome, and I blast the AC in the hotel rooms. Blue Chip put me in their comfortable suite, which has turndown service with a chocolate bar on the pillow every night.

A shame that I spent 3 hours total in the room, as I was gambling the whole time.

I would've used the massage coupon ($100 off any spa service), but then I saw my nasty bruise:

It doesn't look as purple now, but it still hurts whenever sitting for a long time (such as playing slots) and then getting up. I rebooked for next weekend, and as I'm out of money, this time it'll be all about pampering and relaxing.

Besides, I'd much rather be found in the soaking tub than on the dirty stairs.

Grub robbing

2011-06-13T20:54:00.005-04:00

I recently purchased a used car, and here's what your bounty was if you decided to rob it last week while it was parked in front of my apartment (next to an elementary school in a brightly lit neighborhood, mind you):

Digital voice recorder (contained story ideas and interesting dialogue snatches from the past few years) ($25)
Wireless Bluetooth transmitter (charged my iPhone as well as allowed hands-free talking or MP3 playing via open radio station) ($60)
Gym bag (contained shoes and workout clothes) ($100)
orange dry cloth ($?)
toothbrush, still in wrapper ($3)
coins ($3)

Here's what you wouldn't take:

iPass (for local tolls)
Sammy Davis Jr. CD
Frank Sinatra CD
my dignity

I'm on the second floor, and had I looked out the window, I could've seen the thieves rooting around my car. It wasn't broken into, but unlocked when I found it.

When the car locks, it makes a loud sound, so I'm always aware when locking. But when parked near my apartment, the range is pretty far and sometimes I'll hear that sound while tossing around the keys. So it's reasonable that I may have accidentally pressed the unlock button while in my apartment.

All are replaceable except what was on the voice recorder. I recently purchased a bunch of batteries (24, as it was buy 1, get 1 free day), so now I have 22 batteries without a home and a blank slate when delving for ideas.

Also, a different kind of thieving occurred with my computer, infected by a Trojan that caused the Windows Vista Recovery program to run. Thing is, there's no such thing, and running it showed fake critical failures in memory and hard drive while also disallowing programs to run and hiding everything on my desktop and Start menu.

Thank you to Google, which found others with the same and a (temporary) cure: run Malwarebytes' Anti-Malware and then Unhide.com.

Now I'm waiting for the third shoe to drop, though can losing money at slots really be theft, as I willingly give it away to Caesars Entertainment on a weekly basis?

Living like a vampire

2011-05-23T19:43:00.002-04:00

I sometimes feel like a vampire.

After college, everyone was getting married. Then everyone was having kids. Then that stopped, or at least I stopped having to buy wedding and baby gifts.

Moving to Las Vegas was ostensibly to make a change, to do something radically different than what I was doing. But also, in a way it was to escape.

But escape what?

In Vegas, I didn’t know many people who were married. Certainly those who visited pretended they weren’t. In gambling, there’s only your chips and the wager. Anyone ancillary was just bad luck.

Moving out of Vegas, I’m now friends with people mostly younger than I am (where I used to be the youngest), and they’re busy getting married and having babies.

I’m in Vegas next week for a “mancation,” with two guys who are already married, one who just got married a month ago, and one who just got engaged.

I joke that I should elope with some stripper at some chapel while there, then get a quickie annulment. You know, just to get the first marriage out of the way.

It’s not that I feel bad that I’m not close to getting married (heck, just a relationship seems far-fetched), but I do feel left out in the sense that I seem to be standing still, not aging physically or mentally, and everyone else is passing me by. Growing up, if you will.

And I just don’t feel inclined to grow up.

Maybe that escape was to escape real life.

Over the weekend, I went to an '80s concert with some friends who kept encouraging me to get up and dance with the MILFs, that I should do the grubby dance, that the MILFs were all looking to get laid. (The weird thing is I’m older than the average MILF, yet look much younger.)

I wasn’t interested in any of that, mostly because it would’ve been just me up there, and them taking pictures and laughing. This is what my reputation is: the gambler, the over-eater, the girlie drinker, the butt of a joke, and with me always trying to fight it (which is also part of the persona).

I also didn’t want to play into that reputation with the wives there. I’ve no doubt that without the wives present, they would’ve been up dancing and flirting with the MILFs, so they were egging me on to live through me.

I know I’m locked into my current reputation (which isn’t too far from what I’ve portrayed in the blog), and it’s something I can’t change, and it would probably take settling down with a wife and kids to even attempt to change.

So I’m left feeling like a vampire, watching his current world grow past him, knowing it’s time to move on again to form a new life with new people.

Before he sees his friends get old and die.

A strategy for slots: Rockin' Olives

2011-05-16T20:08:00.006-04:00

I played my favorite game at the boats this past weekend, and as it verges on becoming my least favorite (because the amount of money and time I wasted on it), I wanted to pause to chat about my second favorite.

The game is Rockin’ Olives, with art lovingly drawn by Michael Godard and set inside a mammoth black cabinet that resembles an iPhone. Music is meticulously keyed to the animated fingers of the Olive (and also the Grape) playing a guitar. It’s a work of art.

Bonuses are pretty small, but they come often. And boy do you see the same things over and over (and you can’t hit a button to skip through).

I have a steel focus when it comes to the game. Now that I’ve seen every aspect of it, nothing else matters except for the Grand Progressive.

To win the Grand, you need 5 Olive symbols on a payline. The Olive symbol is also wild, so you’ll get a decent base game win as well.

This can happen naturally, or an Olive can come out and randomly change all of one symbol to Olives. So whenever you see a 5-of-a-kind of certain symbols, and the Olive comes out, you’re likely to get the Grand.

To be eligible for the Grand, you must be betting the max, at $1.75. The jackpot resets to $1500, so even that is a good score.

Twice, I’ve sat next to someone who’s won it, and twice I’ve won it myself, at $4148.17 (my highest ever win on Christmas Day last year)...

...and at $1883.42 (February this year).

And I feel third time’s the charm is right around the corner. Which is a bad way to think, as I’ve probably just been lucky on the game.

Still, I’m overall down, as I drop $500 on the game whenever I play. Last month at Four Winds (in New Buffalo, Mich.), it was at the highest I’d ever seen -- $6000. Which basically means that not many people at Four Winds bet the $1.75 max on the game, because statistically a bank of 4 would’ve gotten 5 Olives a couple times.

Chasing that Grand, I dropped $1200, but it was worth it for the chance, and I also built up a lot of points and earned a free crab leg buffet.

grubette and Doug also enjoy the game, liking it before I realized its potential. When I first sat down, I thought I was playing a game with severed heads and loud music.

We were in Vegas a couple weeks ago at The Palms, enjoying the best Moscow Mules and dunkin' doughnuts at the N9NE steakhouse...

The restaurant is also home to servers with impossibly lowcut tops and short skirts, that when they kneel down they put their hand over the opening so you can't see something naughty.

After a terrible losing session, I spotted Rockin’ Olives in the wing next to the sports book.

It was at $2600, and I didn’t win.

We came back the next night and again after a losing session, we did our Olives drive-by and saw it at $2800.

Time to play.

I now play the game whenever it’s in the $2500 range, figuring good value. $6000, at four times the reset, is phenomenal and I’d willingly drop more than I did if I hadn’t run out of money and needed to check in at another hotel.

I play this game like video poker players play for a royal.

I wouldn’t mind if grubette or Doug won the progressive, but the wild card was the woman sitting between us.

grubette did a good job chatting her up and offering her a cigarette. That slowed her down. (grubette was just being social, but I saw the strategy.)

Even though it would fund her a few more spins, I hoped that the woman would get more bonuses, just so I could get more base spins in.

The woman was from the city where I was born, and she had just moved to Las Vegas because her husband landed a good job. She was expecting company in the next couple weeks, and she’d show them around to gamble, and she said she shouldn’t be playing games right now.

I knew she was an addict like us three. Anyone who plays slots alone at 2 a.m. is likely not playing just for fun.

I thought I was saved when her husband approached. But he just said he was going to the ATM and was going to continue playing. She sighed relief and kept on going. She said if he wanted to leave, she'd have left too.

grubette eventually lost her $100, so she left for pai gow.

My strategy was to befriend her like she was a poker player on my left. Any way I could get in more spins than she could would be to my benefit. I thought I could convince her that she should save her winnings and stop playing. Or talk her into lowering her bet. She could play more off a lower bet (and pssst, give up any chance at the Grand).

Alas, while I was mulling over all of this, 5 minutes after grubette left, I spot the 5 Olives aligning on her screen like they were giving me the olive finger.

As usual with innocent lucky gamblers, she didn’t know what she got.

I hit her in the shoulder, out of excitement or maybe out of frustration that I wasn’t the one to win.

I offered her congratulations, snapped a picture of her screen to show grubette...

...and then immediately cashed out.

grubette, who's never in a bad mood when playing slots, said she was happy for her, that she knew she would win it and was even hoping she would.

"What about me, your brother?" I asked.

She didn't have a response, and I pouted away and opened the rest of my wallet to Cashman Tonight while looking at pretty girls in tight skirts.

Move over, Mr. Cashman

2011-05-13T20:21:00.005-04:00

I have a new favorite slot machine.

My favorites are pretty few, judged by the amount of money I've lost playing: Rockin' Olives, Monopoly Big Event (and its incarnations), Glinda the Good Witch, Mr. Cashman, and Lil' Lucy.

Over the years, each of these has contributed to a loss of mid- to high four figures.

Strictly on an hour by hour basis, though, my new favorite wins hands down.

It used to be Mr. Cashman or Lil' Lucy when trying to make Diamond in a Day at Harrah's (now Caesars Entertainment). That was a lonely late December night at Harrah's and Rio, where I played 5 hours with a loss of a couple thousand. I ran out of money, short of a few points, but Harrah's took pity on me and bumped me up to Diamond, and I still hold that Diamond status by making my annual donation to them. (I don't know if they still offer it, but Diamond in a Day used to be 2500 points earned in a gaming day; to get Diamond normally you need 11,000 points in a calendar year -- the equivalent of $55,000 playthrough per year in slots or $110,000 in video poker. If that sounds high, Seven Stars status requires 100,000 points.)

The last few times I've played the new game have all been marathon sessions -- 8 hours, 6.5 hours, 5 hours, 6 hours, 4 hours. When I was in Las Vegas a couple weeks ago, I earned 3500 points in a session, which would've gotten me Diamond in a Day… were I not already Diamond until April 2013.

Cashman Tonight, the sequel, holds my attention for a couple hours, particularly when high progressives are shown.

I'm not even talking about huge amounts, just a couple hundred that's within reach.

In the above photo, the Minor resets at $50 (I was playing a 2-cent machine; on a penny machine it resets to $25). To get it, you need to randomly trigger Mr. Cashman, have him choose the wheel bonus, and have the wheel land on either of two Minor Jackpot slices. The wheel also has one slice for the Major Jackpot, and the remaining six slices are a combination of credits, free spins, and free spins with multipliers -- all of which you choose and add to the wheel before spinning.

My guess is the wheel behaves like an actual wheel of nine slices. So it's true odds of 1 in 9 to get the Major and 1 in 4.5 to get the Minor (because there're two of them).

On average, every nine of these bonuses, you should expect to get the Major. And every three bonuses, you're getting the Major or Minor.

I'm guessing Cashman Tonight triggers every 30 spins, with the wheel bonus being every 10 bonuses. (There are 5 total bonuses -- others are the Love Meter, Scatter Pays, Spins with Wild, and Suitcases -- and I'm guessing it's twice as hard to get the wheel.)

That's 30 x 5 x 10 = a progressive won every 1500 spins. Averaging 5 seconds per spin, you should expect to win a progressive every 2 hours or so.

I played 6 hours without hitting, contributing 2 cents per spin, so about $100 of that Minor was mine.

Anyway, all this is to say a progressive was statistically overdue (I'd never seen the Minor above $300 before), and I ended up blowing everything I had until I didn't have any money left, and rather than wait 2 hours for the shuttle, I used my Total Rewards points for a cab back to the city. I've been in this situation twice before where I didn't have enough money to pay for tolls -- one tollperson was nice enough to let me through, nodding knowingly, the other I paid with a $5 Horseshoe casino chip that I still had in my pocket.

And now my Cashman tangent has made this post too long, so I'll talk about my new favorite next time.

Write delays

2011-05-10T03:20:00.002-04:00

On my way to Vegas a couple weeks ago, my flight was delayed by 3 hours.

I spent the time on my laptop in the comfortable bank of leather chairs with AC outlets and USB connections that only Southwest seems to have. Then again, I doubt the other carriers delay flights 3 hours with clear weather conditions.

Whenever a new version of screenwriting software Final Draft comes out, I buy it. The thinking is that if I spend money on it, I will use it, even though I don't and it sits there until the next version.

Unless on a flight delay.

I decided to give a shot at a contest that the Writers Store and screenwriter Allan Loeb were running.

Loeb's recent movies include Things We Lost in the Fire, 21, and Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, and he created one of my favorite TV series, "New Amsterdam."

Writing aside, I feel a kinship with the guy because he's from Chicago and he had a gambling addiction where he would gamble away thousands of dollars in a day while running up a 6-figure credit card debt. He said that Hollywood is the only place where an addiction gets you work (similar to the gaming industry). Once he got into the program, he said that it opened his eyes and allowed him to write, realizing how much time he was wasting away gambling (similar to Black Friday).

The contest was to write the first 15 pages based on the following logline:

A group of married men desperate for one last bachelor party invents a long-lost friend who’s about to be wed, but things get out of control when their wives want to meet the groom before the big event.

Ten finalists would receive a copy of Final Draft (ack) and a 12-week mentorship with notes every 10 pages. Loeb and production company Benderspink would pick one of those scripts for the prize of a trip to Los Angeles with a stay at the Chateau Marmont, and lunch with Loeb and Benderspink (I envisioned my lunch would be spent chatting about gambling).

No prize money, just an opportunity.

I took it as a challenge, as if a writing assignment with fast turnaround.

I brainstormed a few ideas, knowing that other people would be writing comedies a la The Hangover. I could take it in a dramatic direction or even science fiction, but mainly I was concerned with the opening, wanting to get the premise out of the way fast since anyone who'd pay to see the movie would already know what it's about.

After getting used to Final Draft, I dashed off 3-4 pages before needing to board. I spent the next day in Vegas doing other money-losing things besides writing. And the deadline was a day later.

So I ultimately failed, but I gained some experience using Final Draft for the first time, and heck, some writing is better than no writing, eh?

Anyway, I thought I'd share what I wrote.

INT. KARAOKE BAR -- NIGHT

An OPERA SINGER belts out a showtune. An opera singer in her
dreams, girlfriend.

She makes the rounds with her wireless mic, forcing
unsuspecting patrons into a duet.

She approaches STAN, ANDY, and TOM, all 30s and all
huddled together conspiring. They ignore her.

               STAN
       Pete. He could be a Pete.

EXT. DOG PARK -- EARLIER THAT DAY

Stan tries to enjoy his time on the park bench with the
sports section.

A shadow looms over his newspaper. He sighs, looks up,
squints.

JANIE, 30s and hella tall, peers down on him.

               JANIE
       Your son just puked.

She hands over a THREE-YEAR-OLD BOY, covered in vomit.

INT. KARAOKE BAR -- NIGHT

Stan wipes his shirt of dried vomit.

The guys are drinking mai-tais, complete with paper
umbrellas.

               ANDY
       Pete, Peter, Petey.

               TOM
       Isn't that the dog from "The Little
       Rascals"?

               ANDY
       The little what?

               TOM
       The dog with the black eye.

               STAN
       Didn't he bite someone in real
       life?

               TOM
       He wasn't blind, he was just dumb.

INT. WAITING ROON -- EARLIER THAT DAY

The doctor's office is packed with women.

KELLY, frumpy 30s, flips through a magazine. Next to her,
Tom absentmindedly goes through his wallet.

She leans over.

               KELLY
       What's that?

               TOM
       A picture.

               KELLY
       Is that your --

               TOM
       Yeah.

               KELLY
       What the hell are you doing --

Some women glance over.

               KELLY (CONT'D)
        (whispers)
       -- with a picture of your privates?

               TOM
        (to no one in particular)
       Reminiscing.

Kelly looks shocked.

               STAN (O.S.)
       How about Jim?

INT. KARAOKE BAR -- NIGHT

               ANDY
       Jimbo? Jim-Bob? Are you kidding?

               TOM
       Too generic, too fake.

               STAN
       Zach?

               ANDY
       Zach. Zachary. Zechariah. Too
       Jewish.

               STAN
       Hey.

               TOM
       You're half-Jew, Stan.

               STAN
       I'm half-offended.

               ANDY
       One of my best friends is Jewish.

               TOM
       Justin?

EXT. ANDY'S HOUSE - BACKYARD - EARLIER THAT DAY

               ANDY (O.S.)
       Too Bieber.

Andy struggles with a large garbage can up the driveway.
He rams straight into a vacuum cleaner and drops both.

The garbage can tumbles down the driveway, clangs against his
car.

               ANDY (CONT'D)
       Dammit!

He looks around, no neighborhood response.

               ANDY (CONT'D)
       I said, goddammit!

ERICA, pretty and late 20s, pops her head out of the screen
door.

               ERICA
       What?

               ANDY
       This thing, what's it doing out
       here? Why do we have so many
       vacuum cleaners?

               ERICA
       It's a Dyson.

               ANDY
       What's this Dyson doing outside?

               ERICA
       I was picking up leaves.

INT. KARAOKE BAR -- NIGHT

               STAN
       Dyson.

Andy threatens a fist to Stan. He laughs.

               TOM
       Paul?

               ANDY
       Paul...

               STAN
       Paul!

Someone from the bar turns around expectantly, presumably
named Paul and startled to be discovered.

               TOM
       Biblical. Three Wise Men.

               ANDY
       Peter, Paul, and Mary from the
       Bible?

               STAN
       Honest, trustworthy, reliable.

               ANDY
       Paul, Paulo...

               STAN
       Long lost Pauly!

               TOM
       I miss you, Pauly!

               ANDY
       Where've you been?

               STAN
       You're getting married, you say?

               TOM
       You want me to be your best man,
       Paul old friend?

               ANDY
       I thought I was going to be his
       best man.

They clink glasses and chug, the umbrellas poking their eyes.

It is done.

Phat partying with Las Vegas strippers

2011-04-27T21:06:00.004-04:00

It was three years ago when I was gambling with some friends at Ellis Island.

Ellis is a true Las Vegas locals casino. A dive but with good pizza (Metro Pizza) and a café steak special (8 oz. sirloin, green beans, baked potato, soup or salad, and beer for $5.99 – not on the menu!), I try to drop in every trip to Vegas. When I lived there, I would go twice a week (in exchange for gambling at Ellis, thereby risking tuberculosis, I’d receive a weekly coupon for a free giant pizza slice and root beer). Ben Affleck once sang karaoke there. If you’re looking for video poker, it’s the place Bob Dancer used to advantage play with point multipliers on games that were already near 100 percent.

One was winning at keno (!), one was winning at blackjack (thanks to a dealer occasionally not taking his wager on losses, then giving a knowing wink), one was losing at slots (damn Mr. Cashman).

We were expected by another friend at Eden, the new gentlemen’s club that opened in the space that was formerly Jaguar’s (Eden itself is now gone and replaced with another club). But we needed money first. And a few drinks.

After our respective games, we congregated at the one craps table, which was more a tub and about a third the size of a regular table. The friend who had never played craps before kept hitting points and cleaned up, with us along for the ride. We each cashed out $200-$300, and we had the added entertainment of him electing to not color up, losing a contact lens, and hence dropping all his chips on the way to the cashier.

We arrived at Eden to an empty club, with the friend at the bar flanked by two girls. Strippers, that is.

“Grubby!” he yelled, as he introduced me to the girls, having told them about me and my history.

A few shots later, and the rest is a haze, the memory flashes of which are better told in bullet points.

The short stripper with the bit of belly keeps falling off the knees of my 6’7” friend.
Another stripper was concerned about the amount of money my friend was spending in the back room. He’d been in there for over 2 hours.
We’re the only ones left.
There are only three strippers left.
Why did I rent an SUV, as ballin’ as it is?
The DJ stopped playing music.
The stripper onstage is sloppy drunk.
I have a slot tournament at Flamingo at 10 a.m. tomorrow.
She’s sitting onstage with her legs akimbo, while pounding a beer.
Where did my 6'7" friend go?
This strip club actually closes?

One friend didn’t pay for a single dance, but his girl invited him and us to a “phat party” at her place.

The sequence of events to get to the stripper house was like a treasure map. They can’t be seen leaving with customers, so we were to meet them across the street at the Green Valley Grocery and receive further instructions from there.

We did as we were told, parked and waited.

“I don’t think they’re going to show.”

“No way, they’ll show.”

“Let’s go home.”

“Look, there they are.”

They pull up beside us. Then, as if exchanging hostages, one person from each car gets out and heads into the store to presumably discuss business.

My mind is steeling myself for what a phat party could be. Could it involve drugs? Togas? Rap karaoke?

I peek into their car. It was an even match: counting ours in the store, there were three of them, three of us. Though it was dark outside, it was still lighter than inside the club, and they were slightly less attractive in the light. But who was I to judge.

I was going to my first phat party.

The two exit the store and both enter my car. It’s the blonde with the pudgy belly. She’s going to direct us where to go, and the others will follow but they need to go somewhere else first.

I’m still trying to make sense of this, as if it’s some spy flick knockoff. What was I getting into?

And just as I thought the evening couldn’t get any stranger, I hear a knock on my window. It's a midget, wanting a cigarette. I shake my head, then he solicits from the stripper car.

He leans into the window, and as they begin rolling it up, he starts climbing in. He’s halfway into their car as they back up, before he falls out. A friend snaps a picture on his phone, which I’d pay big money to see, because it would prove that wasn’t the point I fell into insanity.

The pudgy stripper in my backseat directs me not to a house but a 24-hour video poker bar.

This is where we were going to meet the others.

It’s about 4:30 a.m., and we enter the bar. It’s empty, except for the bartender.

Pudgy enters first and proclaims, “I am a stripper, and these are my johns.”

More rounds of shots – the girlie ones like chocolate cakes and anything with rumplemint.

The jukebox goes on, and we each tag team slow dancing with her to country music.

The spy movie has morphed into something out of The Accused.

The other girls arrive, and we each pair up.

Pudgy goes with me to the video poker machine. I give her $20, and we play together. She has an interesting strategy, where she just holds Aces. Even if she has a made hand, she drops it in favor of Aces.

My $20 goes fast, more drinks, I give her another $20 to lose.

I flirt with the idea of her getting a royal, and would she keep it all? Probably.

My girl excuses herself, and I play proper strategy Jacks or Better.

That left the two girls who were with my two friends.

Those girls look at each other, realize Pudgy is gone, and dart out of the bar.

Both come back in, crying.

“That bitch!”

“She stole our money.”

Seems that they all left their purses (or whatever they used to hold their strip club money) in Pudgy’s car. And she ran off.

No honor among strippers, they began as the best of friends with the best intentions of showing some nice tourists a good time, then one backstabs them and runs away.

Insensitive as I am, I only felt for them because it was my girl who escaped.

And I couldn’t help but think that this was all planned by them, as an exit strategy. There was no phat party, there was just fleecing of the nice tourists looking for a good time, preying on their sympathies.

More possibly fake tears, and then suddenly Pudgy re-enters the bar.

Turns out she had to pick up her son and drop him off at school.

Because, well, it was 7 a.m.

The three girls leave and gather their purses and take a meeting.

We three decide this is where we get the brushoff, and we should just leave now while we still have our dignities.

Pudgy drives away, and the remaining two girls come to us.

“Okay, let’s go home,” one says.

I now count two vs. three. And me without my Pudgy.

I follow convoluted directions to the one stripper’s apartment in Summerlin.

We park and climb the steps. There’s an eviction notice taped to her door, which she casually removes.

Her apartment is littered with kids toys, which she picks up as she’s carving us a place to sit.

She puts on the TV to some cartoons, and we sit and watch. I see framed photos of her two kids, who aren't anywhere in the apartment.

What about the phat party? Everyone is too exhausted to answer.

One friend is stroking the legs of his girl and enmeshed in a deep conversation about soundtracks.

My other friend is on the patio with the about-to-be-evicted stripper whose light pockmarked face was probably from taking meth.

Me, I’m just sitting there thinking it’s really time to go home.

I’m also thinking, was Pudgy pudgy because she was pregnant?

And: what would a quart of rumplemint do to a fetus?

And: am I the ride for these two after they get laid?

I announce that I’m going to head back, my friends begrudgingly extricate themselves and follow, and I manage to find my way out of the condo complex, drop them off at their hotel, and make it to Flamingo in time to play the slot tournament.

By any other name, it's still pre-come

2011-04-25T22:07:00.002-04:00

On my triumphant return to these pages, you probably expected something warranted, like a vitriolic rant on the Department of Justice coming down on PokerStars, Full Tilt, and Absolute (on Tax Day, no less). Or how I've been coping with a week away from online poker. Or how I was propositioned by a stripper the last time I was in Vegas.

But no, today I want to talk about pre-come.

I promised to do so in my last post, back when Eisenhower was still in Office. I shouldn't do that (promise, not pre-come), because that always raises expectations and I really didn't know how to write intelligently or even humorously about this physical condition. (I once promised to post about going home to a stripper's apartment for a "phat party," but it's now so long ago that I only remember moments.)

And yeah, I'm frankly a little embarrassed about the whole topic.

I'm pretty open in my conversations -- helped by growing up listening to Howard Stern as well as being a compulsive gambler working at a gaming company where everyone knows I'm a compulsive gambler -- so I'm comfortable asking friends if they have pre-come.

All have said yes except for one, who said he's completely dry until ejaculation, and that it's so alien for him otherwise that he thinks it's a myth and everyone else is abnormal.

Then I wondered if porn stars have pre-come, or if they're so hardened (ahem) by the industry that it's no longer sexual to them, and their bodies act as such.

My friend could probably be a porn star because of his lack of clear, viscous fluid that signals sexual readiness and assists in sliding into something smelly to seed eggs and make a baby.

Me, I can be on a date with my second cousin and absolutely zero chance of getting to first base, yet there I go, or rather, there it goes getting all wet and sloppy sticky. Maybe my penis knows something that my brain doesn't, or maybe Bob (I've named him today because writing the word "penis" is too medicinal) took a page from the Boy Scout manual and is always prepared.

Aside: do rapists have pre-come? It's a violent act, so they say, so why the pre-come? Or why the come, for that matter? I'm going to rob and rape you, and all the while I have pre-come and then when I'm done torturing you, I'm going to come. And then change my underpants.

I've always known this about me, that it's as involuntary as a heart muscle. But can you train yourself to think baseball or Roseanne or taxes? Could Bob begin lubing up if I had a really good piece of chocolate cake?

But this really came to fruition when I began getting massages (not those kind, at least for the purposes of this post).

At the Blue Chip Casino & Spa in beautiful Michigan City, Indiana, I began getting $100 coupons for their spa (massages run about $95 for 50 minutes) in addition to a free steak dinner, slot freeplay, and two free nights in their hotel.

This began fall of last year, and the same offers continued every month.

So Blue Chip was where I had my very first, legitimate massage.

I hadn't even been to a spa before, but now I want to check out every spa in every spa resort.

The experience came with robe and slippers that I wore while hanging out in the lounge, enjoying complimentary fruit drinks, Red Bull, and bottled water, while flipping through pages of Fast Company and avoiding eye contact with other men doing the same.

I was offered a shower or whirlpool or sauna before or after.

I signed the waiver of no ailments (aside from pre-come), and then I waited for my massage therapist. Incidentally, when they refer to themselves as "massage therapist," that's how you know it's legit -- otherwise the word is "masseuse" or "Asian brothel substitute."

The massage room is dark with candles and New Age music. The table is heated, there's a padded area for your face, and during the massage there's plenty of draping. At an Asian Massage Parlor (AMP), there's none of that.

It was enjoyable and relaxing, up until the part where I turned over, because just the brush of a female touch is enough to get Bob juicy.

Sara the massage therapist lifted the sheet in front of her to form a wall, and I was to turn toward her.

But see, I was kind of stuck because of that viscous stuff. Knowing they'd probably change the sheets (I hope), I didn't mind that, but I didn't want to stain the sheet that she'd re-drape over me. And then consequently stick to that, where it was more noticeable even in darkness.

Though it's involuntary, I know when it's happening (right, guys, right?), and what I would do in other situations is squeeze Bob a few times into a piece of toilet paper, then I'm good to go.

But naked under a sheet and asked to turn over, I was left to squeeze Bob, wipe the fluid into my fingers, then wipe my fingers off under the sheet I was lying on.

Oh, the humiliation.

And oh, the person doing the laundry.

And in the right situation, such as an hour of getting my back rubbed, I can produce enough pre-ejaculate that it can rival the ejaculate itself. And come to think of it, girls (okay, strippers) have sometimes thought that I've finished when they take liberties and feel around that area.

If you'll excuse me, I think I have a spot of pre-come just talking about pre-come.

All right, enough dirty talk.

Next post, I'll try to fulfill my other promise and recollect the stripper story. Maybe I'll do it in bullet points.

Fifty dollars takes it!by grubette

2011-01-28T19:11:00.008-05:00

I’ve noticed in the past two weeks I’ve purchased stuff at around $50. I’m amazed at what $50 does buy you these days and figured a little comparison was in order.

Four Drinks at Ritz Carlton, Dana Point : $52

Two glasses of wine, a light beer and a pomegranate martini: this is absolutely paying for the atmosphere, some of the best views of the Pacific Ocean at one of the most luxurious hotels (surpassing its neighbors the Montage and St. Regis). It’s always windy here, but this Orange County visit is well on par with any upscale LA restaurant or hotel. The valet parking is $25, decent for a hotel of this grandeur, but park across the street at beach parking for $1 an hour. That is, unless you have a car you want to show off.

Lunch at The Beach House, Laguna Beach: $52

Actor Slim Sommerville owned this as his house, built in the 1920s. As enviable as it was, it was sold and turned into a beachfront restaurant with crashing waves, seagulls and the occasional surfer. The view is splendid, as is the food. I highly recommend the Ahi and King Crab Tower and Roasted Artichoke Hearts for appetizers.

Victoria Secret, one bra: $48

There actually is a price to beauty or in this case pushed up knockers. Enhance what you got, is all I have to say.

Old Navy, 6 pairs of pants, 2 tank tops: $56

My favorite jeans come from this store, purchased for $4. FOUR DOLLARS! These are better than my $175 pair of AG’s from Bloomingdale’s, believe it or not! Though the shelf life of Old Navy clothes is probably less than a year, I still love the bargain.

Mobile Car Detail: $49

I enticed my co-workers to get in on this group buy and got a few bucks off their referrals. I’d never heard of mobile detailing on the East Coast, where vans filled with water and cheap labor come to you and pore over every inch of your car with a clay bar. They vacuum the cheddar Goldfish and Cheerios stuck in crevices left by the previous owner who obviously had a few tots in tow. Best of all they come to you, leaving your lazy ass hanging out on the sofa watching Oprah’s new network while they labor away in your driveway. I’m no stranger to washing cars, but lately I’ve had to get on a ladder to wash mine and that doesn’t make for a relaxing Sunday. I used to wash storefront windows and squeegee birdshit and muck for a couple of bucks an hour, not among my most illustrious jobs. This was while toiling away at a second job at DMV with jerks who couldn’t get their emissions inspections done on time and constantly rammed into my parked car during road tests. They’d come in with the instructor, “Did I pass?” The instructor would tell me my car was hit yet again and I’d go up to the now-crying driver’s ed failure and say, “No, you failed. You hit a car, you automatically fail. Moron.” DMV license plates there were actually made by prisoners. I don’t know why they can’t be enlisted to be babysitters or dogwalkers.

Two Electric toothbrushes: $50 after mail in rebate

Yeah I don’t floss too well. Yeah I lie to my dentist. He’s been after me to get an electric toothbrush but it wasn’t until co-worker Kai told me he took a weedwhacker and his electric toothbrush to India on a recent leisure trip (I try not to ask questions -- I’m nosy enough). He said power tools are always better than doing it by hand, and I agree in more ways than one ☺ Oral B had a nice rebate for a twofer brush set so I finally made the plunge. Maybe my dentist will finally lay off (in more ways than one!).

PokerStars Sit and Go: $55

And lookie here! This tourney paid for all the above. Who knows when I’ll be able to cash out these days. It looks like they’ve been holding on to deposits for two or more weeks before releasing funds?

Barely coherentby grubette

2010-12-21T02:24:00.003-05:00

Abbreviated and bulleted trip report because I’m still barely coherent after 5 days in Vegas.

Day 1

$59/each way flights to JetBlue leaving at 5.45pm changed to 8.45pm, complained and received $100 in credit – promptly used to book $19/each way flights April 29, 2011.
Jacked by taxi taking the freeway from airport to Venetian: $28
Jacked not-checked-in grubby at Venetian, inadvertently downgrading his room when I requested we be on the same floor.
Took grub’s “secret route” through Harrah’s and IP to Flamingo to check-in Howard, because he asked.
Back to IP’s Hash House, covertly snapping before/after Chicken and Waffles photos of Doug. Resisted ordering “beer in a bag.”
Geisha bar to meet the Thursday Blogger crew!
To Harrah’s to check-in F-Train, because he’s a babe.
To IP, various slot contributions.
To Venetian, to see grubby after checking in his room. He was pondering why it didn’t have a strip view as usual?
Early to bed, with blackout curtains closed.

Day 2

Met up with grubs for Outlet Mall extravaganza, where I briefly considered purchasing a $129 electronic hookah, til it began burning my throat.
Packed loot in grub’s compact Versa, which included $325 Prada sunglasses (Doug’s, not mine)
To M, middle bar did not stock Red Bull but Rock Star was close enough?
M Buffet using grubby’s front-of-the-line-pass, to get us faster to the scored crab legs and first I’ve seen free beer/wine served with the buffet. Doug bet me $18 if I’d eat an oyster. Won.
Washed hands profusely.
Finally sat down to pai gow. When I approached, the asian pit boss asked if I knew how to play. “Of course, I’m asian,” met with crickets. I scored two four of a kinds with the envy bonus to other players, who didn’t even thank me.
Rock Star makes me dizzy!
Grubby took us on a tour or Vegas while trying to make it back to the Venetian. Oddly, they were mostly parking lots of strip clubs and sex toy shops.
Back to Venetian, to play some successful blackjack, not so successful slots. Asked “Johnny” at the main bar for Seagram’s Sweet Tea vodka. He replied that they used to carry it but they no longer did. Right behind his head, a glowing bottle of was proudly displayed in the middle of the bottles of liquor. Got ‘em free from Johnny the rest of the weekend after pointing out his error.
Doug bet $18 me he could spit his gum into a trashcan 30 feet away. I lost.
Joined the storming bloggers at Excalibur a bit too late to see the “dozens” I heard were there, but got to join a rousing/losing game of craps with them.
Made it back to bed before the sun rose.

Day 3

Breakfast of champions with grubby at Panda Express.
To Aria, WPBT Blogger Tourney! Group Picture! I was somewhere in it, being pointed to. I did ask Falstaff if I could climb on his shoulders.
Table 11 with CK, Pablo, Drizz, Mo and Chako. Also joining later, Brad, a friend from Chicago who’s on a professional panel with me. Tried to not think about my bug fear and avoided looking at the arachnid on CK’s bounty, a stein (ok spiders are not “bugs” but they are creepy enough to be). Took two decent early pots from Pablo and Chako, but alas out in 56th when my pocket 9’s couldn’t compete with CK’s pocket K’s. Earlier I was able to squeak out small pot from CK when a clubby flop fell and I had pocket pair and a straight flush draw. But, in the end, I sucked. Saw grubs out just before me.
More slot donations at Aria. Placed a $5 bet on double zero per request of my friend Jeff. Lost. Hey, Jeff works in Reno, what the heck! Jeff you still have that job in Vegas for me ?
Margaritaville’s Volcanic Nachos.
Venetian slot donations and Sweet Tea Vodkas. Saw Dan Michalski and grubs and I got a preview of his WickedChops podcast on the Reid Bill. After trying unsuccessfully trying to pry grubby away from the penny monster, to IP to play NL with CK, Chako, Mrs. Chako, Ross and Mary.
Made to walk the long way back to Venetian as the “secret grubby route” was too tempting to get mugged. 20 minutes compared to the 5-10 the other way.

Day 4

Breakfast of losers, Noodle Bar at Venetian.
Doug returns $325 Prada sunglasses!
Moseyed to Legasse’s Stadium, but after the %*! Redskins couldn’t make the extra point to tie the game, Doug and I left.
V poker room which couldn’t get a $8/16 game going, so settled with $4/8 and after several hours of hard work had $70 profit. Saw a few bloggers, including the-guy-with-the-hot-car, katkin, Falstaff, Drizz, and Chako. Grubby dropped by, hoping his flight would be canceled so he could get in on the action. Midwest flights don’t cancel grubby! Got on the PLO board but with 7 people on the list Doug and I went to a steakhouse where he ordered a $51 piece of lamb and I got 4 raviolis for $21 and beets/potatoes for $18. I was charged $18 for iced tea. No, it was not alcoholic (they took it off).
Still at Venetian with last minute gaming no luck as usual so early to the huggy bed. The Venetian bed and comforter make me feel like I’m being hugged all night.

Day 5

Yeah it was time to go!
I heart bloggers.
See ya Vegas.. next time you’d better be nice to me!

WPBT 2010 wrapup, and the slot monster emerges again

2010-12-14T01:32:00.002-05:00

(This post is dedicated to Aussiesmurf (Melbourne, Australia), who every couple weeks diligently checked into pokergrub.com or blogspot.pokergrub.com or wherever it is now even though there was nothing here. Getting emails spurs me to post something.)

I'm just back from a weekend in Vegas with the bloggers. It's always great to see 100+ poker friends who like to gamble as much as I do, though I wish it weren't in Vegas because of my, er, compulsion. Someone should arrange a slot machine-less poker cruise!

After work on Thursday, I headed to the airport amidst a brewing snowstorm. I had a day pass to the American Airlines' Admirals Club, which was huge and somewhat empty. I'll take the Harrah's (rather, Caesars since they changed their name) Diamond Lounges over this anytime, but it is nice to drop your luggage in the closet and roam free and perhaps take a shower. Noticed a couple passengers playing online poker. If they keep losing money, eventually I suspect Caesars will do the same and offer $50 daily Diamond cards to players to sample what a Diamond player feels like. Either that or sell off some casinos.

My plane was just delayed 30 minutes, and I spent the flight reading Pauly's book Lost Vegas on Kindle. I was laughing at some of the stories we got up to while in Vegas, but also know he held back so much more not fit to print. I got up to the part where Otis takes on a bet to eat a Keno crayon.

I arrived past midnight, picked up a Nissan Versa, checked into The Venetian, and caught up with grubette and Doug, who had booked the same floor. Then headed to Imperial Palace to play some poker with the bloggers. I'd been looking forward to this for months, having not played a live poker game in quite awhile.

Only I didn't get that far. In fact, I stopped at the Lord of the Rings slot machine.

I had $400 in freeplay at The Venetian and thought I'd playthrough just $100. I'd earned enough miles in the game to play my favorite Balrog bonus over and over (as you play, random miles are awarded, which you can use to unlock bonuses). But a couple bad bonuses and that led me to another $100. Which led to the remaining $200. Which led to $1200 that I'd brought.

Not very fun, and I wasn't in any mood to play poker, so I did the gamblers' walk of shame back upstairs and crashed. Oftentimes my first day in Vegas, I lose everything I bring.

On tap for Friday was a trip to the bank (maxed out ATM already), where I gave grubette half to hold so I wouldn't spend everything in one fell swoop again. Then brunch at Bagelmania, a locals joint on Twain Ave. with authentic New York style bagels and breakfast.

On the way, we were at a traffic light when a homeless guy approached the car.

I had my window down, and he came right at me.

"Do you have 25 cents?" he said.

I stared straight ahead and said a curt, "No."

"Bitch," the guy said, then he walked to the car behind me.

"Fuck you," I said immediately, thinking he spit out a bad word directed at grubette.

The light turned green and as we're driving away, I looked at grubette and Doug who were surprised at my people skills, because they both heard him say, "Thanks" instead of "Bitch."

A few weeks prior, I'm at Four Winds Casino in New Buffalo, Mich., playing the Breeders Cup slot machine. I was into the game $400, and was on another $100, when an older guy comes up. He sees I have $80 in the game (meaning I was down $420) and said, "Looks like you're doing well."

I immediately said, "Fuck off." And he did.

I'm calm and bad beats bounce off me at the poker table, but when it comes to slots or blackjack, I've completely come unhinged.

After I cursed out the polite homeless guy, we drove to my favorite outlet mall (off Warm Springs near the airport) where we all picked up discounted clothes (I got my very first beanie, seeing temperatures in Chicago would be in the single digits), then M Resort, where we drank and played video poker and slots and ate at the buffet (the best king crab legs anywhere) and played a tournament (all folded to SB who limp-played his AA against me in the BB with top pair, then check-raised, and I called with 7x chips anyway since I'd entered an hour into it).

Took a detour to The Artisan, a boutique hotel that I'd heard caters to Europeans, and what can I say, I like European women and foo-foo cocktails. It was swanky but too many dudes at the bar, and no specialty drinks. I seem to be losing depth perception, because I slipped on a last step and fell Gerald Ford/Chevy Chase style, though I managed to keep my iPhone safe in my hand.

Tried to convince the group to go to Sheri's Cabaret (all-nude strip club that I've never been to) or Spearmint Rhino, both of which were on the way back, but we just headed to The Venetian.

I lost on the Great Wall free spin progressive game (the Diamond free spins were at 97 and the next highest level was at 54, which is what the Diamond resets to… a win-win if getting either of those two… but I was awarded the bottom free spins of 10). Then lost in blackjack, switched to another table, and rallied both those losses plus $300. In fact, grubette and Doug were also up about the same amount at that table.

grubette dragged us away, paid for a cab to the Castle (aka Excalibur), where we met up with a bunch of bloggers. I somewhat convinced a drunk iggy that I spoke fluent French. Somehow I missed out that BG is moving to Australia, when I just heard he had moved into Chicago near where I work. That led to a sad craps session, a brief victory then loss in double deck blackjack, then Mr. Cashman slots where I won back what I'd lost in craps and blackjack.

While roaming around the Castle, I received an email from them saying that I could stay for 3 nights free. How did they know where I was? I briefly contemplated taking them up on it so I wouldn't have to head back to The Venetian.

It's around 4:30 a.m. at this point, and we're scavenging for food when everything at The Venetian was closed except Grand Lux Cafe, which is too slow. Stopped off at the Gold Lounge and grabbed stale breadsticks they were ready to toss.

Saturday brought the tournament at ARIA. My bounty was a bottle of Jose Cuervo, a flask, two tickets to Phantom of the Opera that night, and a container of Band-Aids. These Band-Aids were given to a handful of the original bloggers from the first WPBT back in 1891, and signified a $100 bounty put up by PokerStars. Stars also had a fun Hammer prize -- the first 10 Hammers (72o, don'tchaknow) that won the pot post-flop would get $50 each.

Full Tilt put bounties of their own on select people, and Stars threw in extra money to sweeten the final payout.

As if that weren't enough, we had last-longer teams of $30 each. Ours was The Grub Experience. (That Experience apparently busted me and grubette out directly after.)

The ARIA tournament director handled everything swimmingly, even taking photos of the entire group. I brought a rubber hammer that the TD patiently took from player to player whenever they'd win with The Hammer. (Except for the bad experience at The Orleans, I'd say every casino has been accommodating of us.)

Derek was to my right for a couple hours, and I had a great time catching up and playing each other in a couple pots. One time we kept staring at each other like we were in love, only to realize that he had checked and he was waiting for my action.

I moved tables twice, drank 5 greyhounds, then sauntered off when AJ wasn't strong enough to suckout on KK.

grubette was playing Gold Fish 2, and behind we saw an older woman playing Diamond Vault for the first time. She was in the bonus and picked vaults to reveal diamonds to collect for higher progressives. It was her birthday and her daughters were at her side screaming, "Go Mom!"

grubette and I joined in with yelling "Go Mom!" and Mom kept picking correctly and climbed all the way up to the top, winning $2386.

I moved on to the new American Idol slot machines, where grubette witnessed how maniacal I can be fast-spinning (justified, because I needed to keep my multiplier high for the community bonus). I keep getting free offers from MGM Mirage properties and hadn't played at any of them in a couple years. The play at Excal and ARIA should set me up for more offers.

Then left to meet Doug at Margaritaville while there were 24 players remaining. After 6 hours. This was going to be a long ass tourney (cheers to MiamiDon for taking it down, and a dubious welcome back to Las Vegas).

We ended up at The Venetian again, losing at blackjack and pai gow, then I had a bad bad run at Monopoly Advance to Boardwalk and Monopoly Bigger Event: Big Money Spin.

Big Money Spin refused to trigger after I was $500 into the game. grubette and Doug left in a huff to IP, knowing they wouldn't be able to convince me until I either lost everything or won everything back. That's seemingly my Las Vegas experience: lose first, then spend the rest of the time trying to get back to even, only in the process, lose more.

I had my multiplier briefly up to 134x, then it dropped to 5x while I was putting money in. And then the bonus triggered. Figures. But it was the best one of the lot -- the GO BONUS, where you roll dice and travel around the Monopoly board and win along the way. It triggered twice more after that when I had a 20x, and I cashed out and went to Zeus mechanical (up $150 then dropped that and the rest).

At the Player's Club, I asked to convert all my points to freeplay. I had $500 worth, but it had to be downloaded to one machine. They could tell I was beaten already from recent play, and offered free Blue Man Group tickets. But I was leaving Sunday, so I declined.

All of the $500 went into Lil' Lucy. Freeplay needs to be played through 1x before cashing out, and by that time I was down to $200 or so -- a bad run. Rather than cash out, I kept playing until down to nothing.

grubette texted that I should come to the IP where all the bloggers were, but I was in a mood and angry at myself and didn't want to take it out on others (cf. my above cursing spree at people trying to be nice), so I just went back to the hotel room, took a long soak, and fell asleep.

Sunday was a wash, as I kept checking to see if my flight had been cancelled from the bad midwest snowstorm. I flew in on American (via O'Hare) but flew out Southwest (landing at Midway), and Midway rarely cancels their flights.

The flight was completely full, and I laughed when I heard someone say, "This plane has to be somewhere tomorrow morning, why not put some people on that bitch."

On landing, the entire plane shifted and shook violently, then straightened in time to hit the runway. Much applause with my seatmate saying, "God bless."

My desire to just want to play poker ended up in another fury of slot playing. Next week I'll be in the San Diego casinos -- and there I promise to just play poker.

It'll be awhile before I'm back in Vegas (perhaps end of April, when grubette goes), and even though I always say good riddance, and even though I freakin' lived there for 2 years, something about it keeps me wanting to return.

Next post will talk about pre-come at a massage, I promise.

Born again addict

2010-11-28T03:45:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting in a hotel room in Michigan City, Indiana, pissed beyond compare that I dumped $2500 away in slots and thinking things have to change.

But then, I say that every time and nothing does. And in fact, I said to myself that I wouldn't post another blog until I gave up the gambling. Well, the actual thought was that I want to hit something big and then post it.

I have a number, which is the dollar amount that I've lost to gambling. Not just this year, but in the past 7 months. It's a scary number, one that I can't reveal because it's too embarrassing. It's a number that I wouldn't feel comfortable admitting to an anonymous priest. It's a number that I can't afford, that's larger than my salary, that's backed by credit cards and 401(k) loans and stock withdrawals. It's not Michael Jordan or John Daley throwaway gambling money, it's money I need to survive. Every time I gamble, I deplete not only what I have in my wallet, but what I have in my bank account.

I gamble out of frustration, depression, anger. I've long ago lost the fun part. When I'm playing slots by myself, I curse the machine like a girl who turned me down via Facebook status. An elderly woman saw me in my frenzied stupor earlier today and said, "Maybe you should take a break."

I was aware of her constant bonus triggers off a minimum bet on Spinning Streak -- John Wayne while on my sixth $100 bill through Win It Again -- I Love Lucy and said, "Maybe you should mind your own business." There may have been a curse word thrown in there as well.

What happened to me? My struggle with gambling used to be internal, but now it's rearing its head at the unfortunate (though lucky) elderly.

Stepping away from the blog, I didn't want to bore with another losing degenerate story. Somewhere in there should be some winning stories, you'd think. I know others who gamble and sometimes win. It's understandable that that would drive them back, to get that winning feeling again.

I don't have that. My luck seems fated to the bad variety, and I don't understand why. I keep playing for one big score, but honestly, if that were to happen, I'd probably keep playing until that was gone too.

So it boils down to this: I should stop. I want to stop, I need to stop, I just can't seem to of my own will. I count the days until 2011, when I can take out a third 401(k) loan.

Maybe starting to post again will help, knowing I'll be boring if I play again, lose, then have to talk about it. I'll allow myself poker and video poker and table games, just not slots. I realize that sounds a little like allowing an alcoholic vodka and not whiskey, but hey, moderation + better payback = losing over a long period of time. Not like slots, where a few hundred can evaporate in the span of minutes. Slots are the worst game you can play in a casino.

So there it is. A sordid welcome back to posting on a regular basis, hopefully not all of it about slots.

In fact, just to keep you coming back, I'll tease that the next post will be about pre-come during a massage.

Lipds and Vegasby grubette

2010-07-19T22:10:00.003-04:00

I smartly decided to take my yearly lipid blood test prior to going to Vegas, having not been in Vegas for seven or so months. This year, my cholesterol dropped by 13 points although still higher than my all-time low from 2007. Again, haven’t changed my diet, exercise or bad habits except maybe taking Metamucil every day, but that was for ahem other reasons besides lowering cholesterol.

I was trying to forget about a Friday call I had to make to my director at work, turning down a long-awaited promotion. It wasn’t a particularly difficult decision, but it was one that I had mulled over because I was trying to think in the long run rather than the short term. I haven’t regretted much in my life, in fact, grateful for mistakes I’ve made by chalking them up to experiences I’ve learned from. I’m a bit more conservative than most, taking the time to research and look at all angles before deciding. That should end any possibility of future regret, but you never know for sure.

No better place than to forget about stuff than spending time in Vegas. I spoke to bunches of people in town this weekend for the WSOP that are sick of it, but as a nearby tourist, it never grows old for me.

This was a four day tour of Vegas, starting off with a late Friday night flight in, Margaritaville for dinner, a single beer and off to bed early. Hello, I must be growing old. Saturday morning, up at 8am and off to the Flamingo pool where amazingly, Doug and I had a choice of seats. With 100+ degrees, poolside seats are tough to come across. grubby came by to check in a friend and then retreated to the Venetian to play a deep stack tournament. Then to Cabo Wabo, Aria, nap, Gold Coast (grubs’ name was called for the nightly drawing!), TGIF where we met up with F-Train, dropped a pound of mints all over his pristinely clean car, and went over to Green Valley for a midnight Steel Panthers show, VIP lounge courtesy of AlCantHang. I enjoyed the show with Dan, Katkin, Spaceman, Cliff Red Dog and a few more. I’m not a metal fan by any means, but I’d seen the lead singer about a dozen times as frontman for the Atomic Punks. Plus, Steel Panther played Journey and talked a lot about cock.

After the show I hung out with some of the group at Gold Coast for a bit, with no gambling involved! Al was MIA for awhile, responding to a text, “Al, where are you?” with “Standby”. I watched behind Al as he was dealt a not so luscious Pai Gow. Guess I can’t bring him any luck either. A small saving grace: he had bet that he would get a Pai Gow. That’s like betting pass and no pass! I rolled back to the room at about 6am, realizing it was July 4th.

Awoke at an undisclosed time the next morning to meet grubby at IP’s Hash House. Thank goodness they got rid of their god-awful buffet. Then headed to Flamingo’s famed “Adult” pool finding out a little too late that “Adult” was not a euphemism for “topless” – it literally meant everyone had to be over 21. Met up with a few people there, Iden, Samir, and including “Cam” with the amazing hair. Not two seconds after sliding in the pool did he have three girls surrounding him and kissing his neck. We thought he knew the girls, but no, apparently his hair is a chick magnet.

To Venetian to check in, nap, Doug bought me a $150 Aquanox meal, then spent the next hour texting and calling to arrange a group to go to the Bluff party at Sapphire. Missed fireworks, two Red Bulls, limo’d over, tipped heavily, avoided the wanding for weapons, the $30 cover and made it straight onto to the other side. Talk about stocked bathrooms there – I picked up 4 blow pops, deodorant (which I had forgotten to put on), Listerine and a condom (donated to a needy recipient). Noticed F-Train was freshly beardless (hope it wasn’t because I said his baby face looked better without fur). Made it back to Flamingo in Katkin’s amazing car, dropped my new iPhone in the garage amid a barrage of curse words and finally got to play some Pai Gow with a table chocked full of bloggers - Katkin, F-Train, grubby, and Otis. Pai Gow was not my friend that night, er morning, but what a blast. Oh no, the sun was up when I was leaving. Well it comes up earlier in the desert, right?

Hit the Venetian pool the next day, where they had glorious Seagram’s Iced Tea – fan-freakin’ tastic. Nap, then M with mamagrub, Rich and Doug to check out the hour-long wait at the buffet. Not sure if it was worth the wait, but it was certainly tasty and had an open bar (yes, grubby, the crab legs are the best). Finally got to play Airplane! and Monkees and won a bit. Mamagrub and Rich both picked up their free gift of the month: a choice between a 6 pack of Coke, a bottle of cheap wine or a fifth of Bacardi (both picked Bacardi even though both don’t drink!). I would’ve popped open that rum and drank it there if my mother already didn’t think I was an alcoholic for drinking two beers at dinner. Doug played blackjack with a NY woman and a tableful of guys that said she would take them all on in bed.

Back to Flamingo, where my Mom and Rich dropped us off in the middle of Las Vegas Blvd to avoid Venetian traffic. Margaritaville, O’Shea’s and then IP to play that funky Pai Gow , craps and blackjack, where I met a lawyer who had “Yellow Fever” but no he wasn’t hitting on me. Won a bunch on Goldfish and Reel ‘em In, onto Hard Rock where I was stalking F-Train who was playing HORSE with poker people. The place was so depressing, devoid of people or fun. I can’t play HORSE to save my life, having to look up how to play one of the games on my bruised iPhone while I was playing it. Plus, in seat 2, I couldn’t even see the cards and had to ask what they were. I managed to eke out a small win with pocket A’s against AK suited while playing NLHE, only to lose it with a bluff later. Meanwhile, Doug played and won straight NLHE and beat AJ against AQ when a J came on the turn, and JJ against KK when a J came on the turn. On that pot, the loser did not want to push in the chips after going all in, making the dealer say, “Sir, you have to put in your money.” Doug just scooped it and dragged it over to his stack, then wished everyone a good night and left the table, telling me we had to go before he was beat up in the parking lot. Lost just $3 playing HORSE . Back to Venetian where I managed to lose a crapload in an hour before retiring to a beautiful bed for a short few hours before check out.

Back to reality the next day, but slots-o-fun it was for sure. As always, I came home a loser, but Doug took a few bucks from Vegas this time. Vegas, missing you and the bloggers already, but I’ll see you soon?

Bad beat blog

2010-04-28T23:30:00.003-04:00

Bleah.

This migration off Blogger FTP has had all sorts of problems, and I was forced to go to pokergrub.blogspot.com.

Anyone know how to get off this and back to my main domain?

I've spent days and days on this, reading all of Blogger's FAQs and doing the migration tool, creating subdomains, CNAME aliases, pointing to Google's server, following directions like a good little Hitler youth.

And even when switching to blogspot (the last resort), I still received an error.

WordPress looks like the answer.

Migrating north for the spring

2010-04-27T04:23:00.004-04:00

Oh the migration.

Like my taxes, I'm a bit late to migrating my FTP Blogger blog over to something else (deadline is May 1 when Google turns off the FTP switch for the vocal bunch of 0.5 percent users, when I'm sure all of those 0.5 percent would've gladly paid an annual fee to fund the current setup as is).

The first step is to backup, and I'm continually running into this error:

We are unable to login to your FTP host. Please verify your FTP login credentials and return here to continue.

But I'm sallying forth and continuing blindly without the backup safety net.

This is just a final note in case anything goes wrong. And in case you subscribe to an RSS feed, it may no longer work beginning May 1.

See you back here in a couple days or so (hopefully).

This blog has moved

2010-04-27T04:08:00.001-04:00

This blog is now located at http://pokergrub.blogspot.com/.
You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here.

For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to
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Brush with Rush Poker

2010-04-18T18:19:00.003-04:00

My first Rush Poker tournament at Full Tilt (just introduced this weekend), you'd think they would've rigged it in my favor.

All-in preflop, I could feel that 3 coming on the river.

I led the tournament early, getting and maintaining chip lead while trying to bust out because some friends were drunk at the Cubs game and wanted to go to the boats.

Called an all-in with JT vs. TT and flopped a J. Got lucky with pairs beating smaller pairs. Big Aces to small Aces.

Then I get the cursed Aces for the first time and bust out, about 100 players to go from a field of 2200.

Since last year, for nihilistic purposes, I've kept an Excel file of hands I either am ahead or behind by 60/40 and the results.

I believe in big tournaments you need to get lucky once every 500 players.

This tournament, I won one and lost one.

If only...

As for Rush Poker itself, it's the best thing to come along since online poker.

I say that even though since January, I'm down over $5000 playing it, mostly losing to players set mining and my never believing them.

If I could self-exclude myself from cash games, I'd do it.

And by the way, sizzlinbettas, the guy who sucked out with the 3s, ended up winning the thing for $10,468.01.

sizzlinbettas, you owe me a drink!

Cyrano de grubby, or sexting a Cougar

2010-04-03T11:28:00.004-04:00

The weekend before St. Patrick's Day, I had dinner with some friends at Shaw's Crab House. It was a fun drunken night of Maryland blue crab, sushi, oysters, and much Grey Goose with a splash of cranberry. One friend offered $1000 to the server if she could guess his name in 10 tries. She couldn't.

Before I arrived, another friend had picked up the number of a Cougar named Cee Cee. With her was her older sister Dee Dee, who kept trying to push off Cee Cee to any guy.

He wasn't interested, but he got the number mostly to close the conversation.

She didn't have his, however, so I was able to use hers in my phone and pretend I was him.

In between the restaurant and the dance bar, I called her half a dozen times but kept getting a message that her voice mail was full.

I thought my last text was it, but she responded in the morning which led to this conversation:

I didn't respond to the last one, figuring at some point it had to go somewhere.

Meanwhile I was texting the friend who got Cee Cee's number and said I could seemingly arrange to get them to stop by his place. He said that I should give them my address and see if they notice a difference.

A couple days later he said that he played poker and lost with AA. I said he wouldn't have lost with CC or DD.

Daytripping strip clubs

2010-03-14T21:07:00.002-04:00

"Are you wet?"

The last time I went to Olympic Gardens in Las Vegas, a friend and I stayed through Sunday night all the way to 6 a.m. Monday morning.

We were chatting up the one dancer who remained, until the DJ called her name to go on stage. She had to follow course, and went to the stage.

With no one else in the club, we had nothing else to do but follow.

Fortunately, she was attractive.

I don't remember much else about that visit, but we did sneak a couple more dances out of her once we requested she change into a red substitute teacher outfit. Changing took a good half hour, which either meant she was at the stripper thrift store or she was snorting some lines to prep dealing with a couple losers who wouldn't leave a strip club on a Monday morning.

Monday during the day isn't the best of times to patronize gentlemen's clubs, but if you're looking for complete attention, your pick of seats, and free entry, Monday's your day. Never mind what the dancers actually look like, be thankful that it's still extra dark inside during daytime.

Another reason to go on Monday: your flight is a few hours away, you're dealing with a hangover, and you're out of money.

A couple weeks ago, I was at Cheetah's with another friend.

I drove my rental, and I was prepared to smooth talk the bouncer into giving us free admission (I no longer have my Nevada driver's license, aka free pass to strip clubs), but there was no bouncer and not even a cashier or front attendant.

We walked right into the darkness and were immediately greeted by some good breath-challenged girls of maybe the 3-4 variety (on a scale of 100).

But we had time to kill and gambling money to spend. Well, the former. I had to borrow from my friend.

He went immediately to the back room, precious seconds ticking away.

I stuck around front, drinking Grey Goose & vodka (still $12 despite Monday morning), and taking in 2-for-1 dances.

$10 a dance goes a long way in a strip club, while also de-valuing the back room.

A couple days earlier, we had gone to Spearmint Rhino and arriving at 3 a.m. Sunday morning in the middle of an economic downturn wasn't enough to scare the crowds. It was more packed than I'd ever seen it, and there was a line to get into the back room. I'd never had such a shakedown before, but desperate to sit down I had no choice but to visit the back room a couple times, which cost $600 on just two girls and drinks ($50 admission seemingly on the busy night, with 2 drink coupons... which is only good for 1 drink in the back room).

Also at Cheetah's was the stripper buffet. I consider myself a connossieur of all-you-can-eat buffets, but you won't find me partaking in pizza and sushi sitting under lights.

I was in the middle of dance #4 with an Asian girl whose face was in her 40s but resculpted breasts were pre-adolescent. Another good thing about strip hopping during the day is they'll sometimes work extra hard, which she did with her free-roaming hands.

"Are you wet?" she asked me.

"No... are you?"

She answered silently by directing my hand down there.

My friend popped out for a second to borrow my car keys, then came back in and dropped them off.

Ever since a stripper stole my car keys (also at Cheetah's), I'm extra vigilant about where my keys are.

He then disappeared into the back room again.

I had 2.25 dances with a girl from Skokie, Illinois, whose tits were hanging so low she seemed like she had just breast-fed half a dozen puppies. Launching into the 0.25th song, I asked, "Is this song number 2?"

She said no, that we were already into the third.

Bad stripper etiquette: always ask your customer if he wants another dance. The last time this happened, the girl felt so bad when I called her on it that she gave me two for free.

Songs are about 50 percent longer during the days (another plus), and my internal stripper clock was confused. I usually know what song we're on but will sometimes ask in case they've lost track themselves. I was once on dance #19 and she thought it was #17. Score.

This time, however, I asked if it was song number 2 because there was no way I was getting another dance. Even if I paid for part of the third.

I kicked the Skokie girl off me mid-dance and tossed her $30. Her last job was at The Library and some all-nude club near the Palamino that went "all-Mexican." Not the sterlingmost resume.

I had never had such a lackluster dance. Little did I know what was coming 2 minutes later.

"Do you want a shot?" a short fireplug of a shot girl said.

"No thanks," I said.

"Do you want to buy me a shot?"

"No thanks."

"How about a dance?"

There aren't many taboos left in a strip club. But getting a dance from the cocktail waitress or shot girl is high on that bucket list. It's next to having sex with your hot substitute teacher (hence the above OG fantasy).

I accepted and it felt like getting a dance from an Oompa Loompa. Worse, I felt like a pedophile, only without the apparent enjoyment.

I pushed her off after the second song and grabbed my phone and...

Where were my keys?

They were just there, in the chair next to me, next to the phone. My friend had returned them to me, and I made sure to keep them close.

Where the fuck were my keys?

The shot girl was still putting on her bikini top that pretty much held nothing.

I blew up, accusing her of taking them.

The cocktail waitress helpfully came over with a flashlight, and with the bouncer, we tore up the whole area.

I couldn't fucking believe this was happening again. Was Cheetah's strippers' M.O. to take car keys? Maybe display it over their fireplace as a trophy? Is stealing keys the new empowerment?

My mind shot back to 2 years ago, when I had deja vu speaking to the same bouncer about checking the video camera. My fingernails dug into seat cushions, pulling up stuff that will probably later be in a CSI investigation.

My flight was in 2 hours. I made a mental list. Call the locksmith, get a new key, tip $100. A repeat of the first time.

At my wit's end, I accepted that this happened again and sunk into the chair.

I texted my friend: "Do you have my car keys?"

To his credit, he responded pretty fast: "Yes."

Now I went into transference mode, moving anger at Cheetah's to anger at my friend.

I apologized to the shot girl I yelled at (but still didn't accept a shot from her or for her).

Why did he take them a second time? A practical joke, I could understand.

When he returned, I went off again, saying that I'd just told him the story of the stripper stealing my keys, and that he should've made sure I knew he was taking them.

He said he didn't want to bother me.

All it would've taken was making eye contact and showing my keys to me. Besides, I was just looking for an excuse to break away from the shot girl.

And why did he go to the car a second time anyway?

On the way out, he told me.

While in the back room, his girl kept rubbing his crotch with her knee and, well, he had an accident.

He went to the car to change into something clean.

That was about as good a reason as any, and I can't fault him not wanting to sit around in his own mess.

Cheetah's is back in my good graces, but from now on I'm just going to keep my car keys in my pocket.

Wet dreams and Siamese heads

2009-12-23T13:16:00.001-05:00

Starting off my Christmas vacation today, I had a wet dream.

Only it wasn't wet and I woke up before any clothing damage could be done.

In the dream I was at a Vegas-style nightclub.

I had to go to the bathroom, and entering the men's restroom, there were holograms of live women in sexy poses displayed on the stall doors.

As you approached the stall door, the woman would react, telling you whether the stall was free. She'd be standoffish if occupied or beckon with her index finger if unoccupied.

All the stalls were taken, so I left and ran into a girl who was standing on her hands. Yet she had another head below her.

Sort of like being a Siamese twin, with her twin head being upside-down and attached to her knees.

We began kissing, and I felt her exploring "down there," then suddenly I felt some not unpleasurable warmth and moisture around my private parts.

It was her second head.

So I was kissing and getting head (from a second head) from the same girl at the same time.

It's been awhile since I've had any strange dreams, much less sexual dreams. Perhaps it was from the chicken wings, gingerbread yogurt, and box of Wheat Thins I ate last night.

Nevertheless, a good start to the holiday break.

UltimateBet took back my car

2009-12-09T23:59:00.003-05:00

The Sapphire Gentlemen's Club has their 7th anniversary tomorrow night (free food and drinks from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m.)… which is when I would've been getting into town for the blogger tourney. Damn.

I'm sad that I won't be able to go -- I actually held off cancelling my room (and tickets to Ronn Lucas, which I was using as my bounty prize) in case I could win enough to justify going. Chicago is under its first bad winter storm with wind chill at 20 below, and the desire to flee (to, uh, 38 degree weather in Vegas) has never been stronger. But it isn't to be.

Changing the flight was easy. As for the hotel...

Harrah's: For further assistance, please say one of the following: change reservation, cancel reservation, get rates --

grubby: Cancel.

Harrah's: Sorry, I didn't understand your response. If you are a member of our Total Rewards players club, please say yes. If you are not a member, please say no.

grubby: Cancel.

Harrah's: Sorry, I didn't understand your response. If you are calling to change an existing reservation --

grubby: Cancel.

Later, after speaking with two hosts to cancel the room plus the tickets…

Harrah's: You do know that there's a 72-hour cancellation policy.

grubby: I just stayed at your casino last week and lost my soul.

Fortunately, they didn't hold me to their policy, which would've come off my Total Rewards points.

* * *
Thanks to BadBlood, Falstaff, Waffles, Dave R., and SheetWise for offering sympathy about my situation.

SheetWise recollected a touching story about his uncle who hit bottom and then kept a promise to only gamble 10 percent of his salary.

That's the foundation of maintaining a bankroll, which I need to stop ignoring if I want to stop going bust.

I redeposited to Full Tilt and have been doing okay the past week, not risking more than 10 percent at a time. I'm setting a stop limit -- win or lose, once I hit my Iron Man for the day, I'll stop. I'm also focusing on sit-n-gos and staying away from cash games. Now if I have a bad streak, I'll move down in SnG levels rather than tilt away in 8/16 6max like usual.

That's not to say I've been successful staying away from online gambling. I played over the weekend and also last night when I received a 25 percent bonus on the loss. They have a poker site, so the +EV play is to use the bonus to my advantage and just play poker. Whenever I deposit and win, I'll cash out. Whenever I deposit and lose, I'll just wait for the bonus and then play with that. I could just do multi-tournaments at a significant discount.

Then today I received this email from UltimateBet about my cashout (the one that paid for my rental car for 2 weeks):

Dear Customer,

Thank you for choosing UB.

This email is to expaling you that your check for $442 tr id 18779916 processed on 11/09/2009, was canceled.
Please accept our sincere apologies about this situation. This problem was provoked by the closing of one of our provider’s accounts and we still do not have the specific reason why it happened. We are no longer using that payment method and are working hard to reissue all payout requests and cover fees incurred due to this issue.

The funds, as you may already know, have been returned to your account including the fee you initially had to pay for the payout.

In case you already cashed the check, we will gladly reimburse you for any overdraft fee you were charged for this matter, provided you show us where the amount is shown on your bank statement.

We do not doubt your honesty, but we do need to see the charges on your statement before we can proceed with the request.

Etc., etc.

Figures.

Before I finish reading the email, I find myself re-installing UB, see the $450, and instead of cashing out again, I play blackjack and lose it all.

Frustrated, I deposit to another site, play blackjack, and surprisingly run it up to +$1300 (including $200 lost on slots). This covers the $450 from UB as well as what I lost over the weekend.

I then almost put a bet down on Pacquiao (even money against Mayweather) but take it back because my 25 percent bonus on losses ends in February, and the fight if it happens would be after.

I cashout.

Clearly trying to quit on my own is proving to be a struggle.

Consequences

2009-12-04T04:57:00.002-05:00

The word "addiction" is tossed around lightly in society -- I'm addicted to chocolate, might as well face it I'm addicted to love, I'm so addicted to the things you do.

But true addiction is continual use in the face of negative consequences, mainly when that use begins to affect work, health, relationships, or finances.

For some, that's Bejeweled Blitz and its constant Facebook status updates that cause all your FB friends to either unfriend you or stage a mini-intervention.

In my case, my addiction is whenever gambling, and the effect is all of the above with the exception of maybe work, where it ironically helps.

As soon as I start gambling, I can't stop, I have no control. Playing slots, in my head I'll make mental notes that I'll cash out when I get to a certain point (when I'm down or up to this amount or when I hit the next bonus or when I get my drink or when it's this or that time), then when I get there I'll renegotiate with myself, and this inner exchange goes on until I'm down to nothing. No matter how much I win I will give it all back as well as whatever's in my pockets, including ATM withdrawals and credit card cash advances. I would pawn or eBay something if I had anything of value.

I've mentioned stories of when grubette and I would first visit Atlantic City when slots accepted coins, and I'd put my last nickels into the machine before boarding the shuttle bus back to D.C.

I have this need for action, it isn't about winning for me (if it were about winning, I wouldn't play the worst game in the casino or I'd at least only be playing Mega Millions for a chance at something big). Losing to me is just as strong an emotion. I relish stories of other people winning just the same as I regale in my own losing stories -- it becomes a contest how much you've lost just as much as how much you've won. Dropping a few nickels into those slots wouldn't have won any jackpots, but ridding myself of all my money signaled that I could finally stop and go home.

Every single ad that appeared on the left column of this blog was paid for via transfer to my casino or poker account, and every bit of that was gambled away at their casino.

I've gambled away entire paychecks in one sitting. If I get a reimbursement check, I spend that too. My car was totalled a few years ago, and the insurance check I received went entirely to online blackjack. I never replaced the car.

In Las Vegas, I took a friend to the bank so he could withdraw $2500 and I could borrow it.

I often kid about the tolls of gambling and being unable to stop until losing everything, but unfortunately all of that is too true and is fast catching up with me.

So this gambling "habit" of mine comes with consequences, and one of those is that for the first time, I am going to have to skip this year's WPBT event next week.

For my own health and well-being, not to mention bank account, I can't go back to Las Vegas for awhile.

I've actually already paid for everything and the rooms and food are free, but I know the cost to change the flight will be far less than what I will end up losing while there. And I can use that flight for something else.

AlCantHang mentioned meeting at Lagasse's Stadium (the snazzy lounge-turned-sportsbook with patio inside The Palazzo), and for those going Friday, Dec. 11 from 7-9 p.m., here's an offer to get free Ambhar Tequila and Bud Light Golden Wheat, plus half off appetizers, all for watching basketball and not having to gamble a cent.

To RSVP, sign up at Las Vegas Weekly.

Not much more to say about how far I've fallen because it's still too fresh. Only now am I dealing with the repercussions of what I did while in Vegas. Maybe one day I'll be able to post all the gory details.

I'll miss you guys, but grubette will represent.

Las Vegas by the numbers

2009-12-02T04:42:00.003-05:00

I lost more than I can count or want to admit in Las Vegas so I thought I'd let these other unique numbers add for themselves. They're in chronological order of the whole trip.

15
number of days spent in Las Vegas

16
number of casinos where I played slots

0
number of casinos where I played poker

3700
total big win amount on slot machines ($900 Wizard of OZ -- Glinda the Good Witch; $800 Wizard of OZ -- Follow the Yellow Brick Road; $300 China Mystery; $800 Airplane!; $400 Cashman Tonight -- Lucky Miner; $500 Sun & Moon)... yet gave it all back plus more

9
number of trips to the bank and ATMs

5.99
ATM fee at Harrah's

4
number of deposits made to Full Tilt and Bodog

12.02
amount of money left in my savings account after transferring everything to checking so I could withdraw

23.24
percent APR interest being paid on credit card

200
dollar amount lost playing new Sex & the City slot machine, after triggering just one bonus

500
cost per bottle at the Moon nightclub at The Palms (not paid by me)

1.5
number of times a can't-remember-if-she-was-attractive girl grabbed my butt while dancing (obviously not this girl pictured)

428
dollar cost of rental car (unlimited mileage, so drove to and from California)

425
total slot freeplay redeemed at The Venetian, M Resort, Binion's, and Silverton

1000
dollars remaining in player points from Harrah's and Silverton, to be used for food and overpriced gifts

6
number of trips to Target and Las Vegas Outlet Mall for new clothes

400
dollar amount lost betting against Pacquiao (I'd do it again at those odds)

6794
slot tournament score in third and final session at The Venetian. Need at least 10,000 each session to cash.

20,000
first place prize for slot tournament

1 to 2
number of cents wagered by old woman on slot machine (1 line, 1 or 2 bets per line). She had her legs akimbo on either side of the Jackpot Party Progressive game and was having a good ol' time. Sure, they're penny slots, but she was risking strangulation by me sitting next to her.

44
number of minutes it took dealing with tech support to get wireless Internet working at Harrah's so that I could play my Full Tilt freeroll

2.5
number of minutes it took to bust out of freeroll (my QQ vs. his 10-10)

30,000
number of Grazie points required per year ($30,000 playthrough) to achieve or maintain Gold stats at The Venetian/Palazzo

24,000
number of Grazie points earned this trip to get Gold

75
lowest legal percentage payback allowed on a Nevada slot machine (meaning on average you get back 75 cents on the dollar)

11,000
number of Total Reward points required per year ($55,000 playthrough) to achieve or maintain Diamond status at Harrah's

3300
number of Total Rewards points a friend accumulated on my card in 2 days so that I could maintain Diamond for another year

200
dollar amount in a Full Tilt transfer of what I owe my friend, since I challenged that he wouldn't be able to do it

800
dollar amount of what I borrowed from the same friend

35
dollar wager made by same friend on one spin of Star Trek game in Venetian's high-limit area. If only a Win Warp came.

1100
number of Total Rewards points I needlessly added on top of the 11,000 even though I'm already Diamond

10
number of people squeezed into free stripper shuttle to Cheetah's

20
number of lapdances received from a Colombian stripper at Cheetah's

5000
dollar amount a friend paid for entertainment at Cheetah's

14
cost of Captain & Coke at Club Paradise

7.99
new price of 8 oz. sirloin steak at Ellis Island, still a good 24-hour deal that includes beans, baked potato, soup, and beer or root beer

5
number of free buffets consumed at M Resort (400-600 points earned for each, and keep the points)

3
at M Buffet, number of trips made for steamed crab legs (so good)

17
average number of minutes spent in bathroom afterwards (mostly because of my lactose intolerance of ice cream)

50
food comp dollar amount received at M Resort. But having received those buffets for free, the food comp was left to splurge on these items from the mini-bar.

320
amount in slot machine when Cashman Tonight triggered and then crashed (bad Aristocrat). When it came back up, won $6 in the bonus and then lost the $320.

2012
movie watched at Red Rock when out of money (in the mood for disaster movie to match finances)

4.5
number of driving hours to California to visit mamagrub, grubette, and other family

12
number of people at the dinner table for Thanksgiving

167
dollar amount bet on one online blackjack wager, showing my cousin how not to play

3.25
number of stuffed animal penguins at mamagrub's house that were taken and ravaged by dogs from family (mamagrub had never had any animals in the house before)

30
minimum number of status updates on grubette's Facebook wall that she deleted stating she's playing Bejeweled Blitz

2
number of "free" sweatshirts received at Silverton for earning 500 points per day

6700
number of needlessly earned points above the 500

1
sweatshirt not received because a gaming day does not begin until 2 a.m., which is not listed in their fine print

1.50
unbelievably low price for a big bag of gummi bars from the Silverton mini-bar

7.45
unbelievably low price for a dinner buffet at Silverton (2-for-1 or 50 percent off between 4 p.m. and 10 p.m.)

25
percent charged instantly when taking out a payday loan. I didn't, though I checked into it.

281
number of text messages sent/received over my normal 200 limit while in Las Vegas (at 5 cents each, still less than $40 extra per month)

42
cost of cab ride from airport to home in no traffic, worth it considering it's basically a blackjack wager

38
number of free hotel room offers received in the mail when returning home

11
number of days until annual WPBT blogger tournament in Las Vegas (not sure if I'll be able to make it, have you been reading this?)

6/1/10
new date to wait for UIGEA to be enforced (which means more money to be lost online)

33
number of ants killed on Post-Its in my cube on first day back at work

31
number of minutes trying to format this into an HTML table before giving up

Betting your life on a coin flip

2009-11-27T19:00:00.002-05:00

I've hit several types of rock bottom, all to do with gambling.

Now I've gambled away my life.

When I lived in Las Vegas, betting was the norm. Pauly and I made prop bets all the time: the color of the flop, the outcome of the old Excalibur poker wheel, what kind of car the waitress drove (and if we both lost, the money added to her tip).

In Key West and Chicago, I've made props with Donkey Puncher: who would be the first poker blogger to get up out of their armchair (all were asleep watching football), the over/under on number of tattoos on the waitress, how long it would take Bobby Bracelet to spend in the bathroom.

These were all small bets -- prop = fun.

Not until getting to Chicago did the bets get larger. Friends and I will wager 50-50 bets on games, typically going double-or-nothing until the loser cries uncle. I've lost half my paycheck on these games.

Now we flip coins for meals. After continually losing these things (how can I expect to win an even 50-50 bet if I can't win in poker when I'm an 80-20 favorite?), one friend proposed a new bet.

A single coin flip for $100 per paycheck for life.

I refused, then he dropped the period to 1 year.

I again refused but countered with a coin flip to get on the other's company life insurance policy as sole beneficiary.

At work, our life insurance is twice our annual salary.

We're both single with no kids, so true heirs are irrelevant, at least to me. I'll be dead anyway, so life insurance to me is meaningless.

It does, however, affect grubette and mamagrub, who are my beneficiaries splitting evenly (along with the stipulation that they take the money to Vegas and gamble 10 percent of it).

My friend agreed to the terms but dropped to 25 percent of the other's life insurance for a period of 5 years. And if either leaves the company for whatever reason, the agreement is nulled.

We were at a Chinese restaurant, already flipping the quarter for other things and generally making a lot of noise.

The quarter was flipped one more time, and I called heads.

Tails.

I called HR and had the papers drawn up.

Sorry, grubette and mamagrub, you're now splitting 75 percent in case you're wondering who the strange man is at the will reading and next to you at the blackjack table.

And now, at least for the next 5 years (which I've been given anywhere from 50:1 to 200:1 chances of dying naturally), I'll be watching my back.

Don't wear white at a strip club

2009-11-26T04:39:00.001-05:00

"Hello, Papi," the girl from Colombia said as she thrust her pelvis into me. From 0 to 2 seconds was all it took. An instant turn-on.

I didn't leave her side until 20 dances later.

The ride to Cheetah's came courtesy of their free shuttle bus stuffed with 10 people. You can call the club and arrange free pickup, which conveniently also comps each passenger his entry fee. This is especially appreciated by me, who no longer possesses a free stripper card (a.k.a. Nevada driver's license that gets locals into any Vegas strip club for free). You can also get any cabbie to take you to any club for free, as they get kickbacks per person brought to the club (when stepping into the cab, say "Can you take us to XXX for free?" and step out if they say no). But while your cab fare is free, you may still be obligated to pay the admission fee anywhere from $10 to $30.

Cheetah's is my favorite gentlemen's club in Las Vegas (Spearmint Rhino is my favorite when doing The Procedure with Pauly and BadBlood). Girls at Cheetah's don't seem especially in a hurry (though for girls in even less of a hurry and maybe lacking ambition, check out Seamless). They won't be the girl next door type (Little Darlings) or the ballroom gown type (Scores/Rick's) but they're more down to earth and fun than any other club I've been to. And heck, it was featured in the movie Showgirls. Even after some stripper stole my rental car keys on July 4th, I still go back.

I have Cheetah's numbers programmed into my iPhone -- (702) 384-0074 and the shuttle driver at (702) 427-9996. If you have a group of at least 5, they're happy to pick up your group for a private ride. If less, they'll pick you up and then make other stops to fill the shuttle.

Last time I rode the Cheetah's bus, I had just ordered nachos and potato skins when they arrived earlier than expected. Eating them in the stripper mobile is a bit uncouth, made more so when I jokingly offered it to the driver as a tip.

One of our group hit two royals that day and as soon as each of our group had girls on our laps, he splurged for the first round of dances. He blew through all of one of the royal money that night.

The girl who called me Papi also called me by my real name. She remembered the last time I was there, when I went into the back room with her (one of many times over the past 3 years). I normally give a fake name (Steve, now Von) and fake profession (inflate tires on UPS trucks, tour with Cirque du Soleil, produce adult films) but somehow I was truthful with her.

Before I could grab a seat or drink with my friends, she led me to a dark but comfortable corner.

There are some girls where you appreciate the flirty conversation beforehand, there are others where you just want them to get down to business.

She was in the latter.

And she wasn't initially attractive either. She isn't the type to be given double-takes. The first time she approached me a few years ago, I said no. Calling people "papi" isn't the best bedroom talk. But boy does she make up for it.

Immediately picking up where she left off on my last visit (where the bouncer kept coming in saying that I couldn't do what I was doing), on the third song she unzipped my pants, gently shoved her hand down, and began taking liberties I didn't mind her taking. Her scraggly hair covered what she was doing, and her eyes darted around making sure no one was watching.

A true professional.

A friend who spent a couple thousand dollars in the G Spot private room said that was more than he got.

I made a mental note to next time wear dark underwear, because the white stands out in the blacklight lighting of the club.

Song 20 seemed a good a time to end as any, not to mention I was out of money (and seemingly also out a pants button).

She was off to Colombia for Thanksgiving but I promised I'd be back before then. Which I would have, had I not later lost all my strip club money on slot machines.

I did make a trip to the ATM which charged a $15 fee (the gougement is usually in the $25 range) and had two dances with a persistent Thai girl.

We talked green curry and other Thai dishes, and she was into making out (the Colombian girl wasn't). But when nibbling on her ear, she pulled away, slapped me, punched my crotch hard, then bit me on the cheek. And then said we were even.

I did it again just to get the same reaction.

Had a few other dances with other girls, but none compared to the Colombian, who later joined me and said that someone just had 12 dances with her and I still held the record. She needed a few more to make her nut for the evening, and I pointed her toward a couple prospects.

About 3 a.m., we abandoned a few of our men and took the shuttle bus back to the hotel for breakfast.

While eating, one said that he was off to Club Paradise and would text if it was good.

Which he did, and additionally said that there was no cover.

When a friend and I arrived, the place was completely empty except for a cocktail waitress. I've never cared for Club Paradise but thought it may have changed since Howard Stern started taking his radio show there (back in the terrestrial days).

I texted asking where he was, and out he came like Hugh Hefner, in his t-shirt and a girl from every nationality draped around him.

We joined him in his private room that contained a bar, and he left us with three girls as he took the best-looking one to an hourlong dance.

We sat over $14 drinks and girls who were a little worse for wear originally from Chicago.

My girl, Darien, claimed to be an ex-pornstar who was on the cover of Cherry magazine probably from the late '80s. Her body looked good but her face looked like it had danced with a truck. She had meth-looking crumbling teeth and a scrunched face. And this was in the dark.

I took out the last of my money -- three $20 bills.

"What can I get for this?" I said.

Darien took the money, folded it neatly into her purse, and said she'd give me a deal, which amounted to two dances that reminded me more of the typical dances from Chicago -- little contact.

In Darien's case, it was coupled by a kiss that tasted like cigarettes, Hennessy, and pineapple juice, and skin that felt like rubber bands. And porn talk in my ear that really has no place anywhere but in the actual bedroom.

I couldn't get into her as much as I tried, and was thankful when it was over. I figured the part when it ended was the deal.

We high-tailed it out of the club, leaving our one friend to fend for himself in his remaining 30-minute dance in the back corner.

Later we texted him, "Thanks for the scraps."

Going to the casino to lose less

2009-11-13T03:53:00.002-05:00

I haven't been to Harrah's Horseshoe this month, and I have a daily freeplay offer of at least $15 every day (can go up to $1000). Freeplay must be played through a slot machine once before cashing out -- which I've never done, by the way, as I will play freeplay until it's all gone… similar to the Bodog ads on this blog -- all revenue was deposited into my casino account, and I'd blow it all on blackjack. Freeplay is designed to get you in the door, the casino counting on the fact that the bells and whistles will lure you in to spend much more.

Well-intentioned me would go right before midnight, use one coupon, wait till midnight, then use the other, then go home. Or maybe play some poker while waiting for midnight to come around. (The casino has been open for 17 months and I've only played poker there once.)

Oh yeah, the casino is about 35 minutes away, and there's $6 roundtrip tolls.

Is it worth it? I have this struggle often.

How about free buffets in the Diamond Lounge and $15 in miscellaneous food from the deli? I've used the food comp on big cookies before. Somehow knowing that the $1.50 retail value of the cookies end up costing me $300 each makes them taste better.

How about the fact that I have to turn in the rental car tomorrow morning and I filled the tank when I only needed to fill it 3/4. That's free gas and mileage going to waste.

To sum up, that's $30, free buffet, $15 in cookies, and $6 tolls.

How much does the above need to be before you say yes (for me, the tipping point is the $15/day… $10 per day is a dealbreaker)? If you're normal in the head, you know this isn't worth the effort. Logically, I also know it.

But gambling ain't logical, and my twisted reasoning for going is to take advantage of the casino, to make them hurt. (Yeah, $30 will really make a dent in their profits, bad economy or not.)

A friend offered to buy up my freeplay coupons, paying me $30 a day not to gamble. He then offered $100 to not gamble this week.

I turned him down.

I didn't want his money, I wanted the casino's.

Better might be if we made a deal where I had to return his $30 and pay another $30 if I gambled that day.

I'd probably still do it.

Like in Michael Powell's The Red Shoes but substituting gambling for dancing, if you were to ask me what goes on in my head, "Why do you want to gamble?"

I'd respond, "Why do you want to live?"

I was debating whether to go, right up until 9:15 p.m., as 10 p.m. was the cutoff for the buffet. Then it would only be $30 freeplay and $15 cookies.

What probably saved me was mamagrub calling again to talk about another Vegas trip she just returned from.

A gambling story saved me from gambling.

But that's not entirely true, as I deposited $500 via my already hurting credit card, ran it up to $1402, and then lost it all, all in online blackjack.

Getting me out of the house and away from online gambling is a positive.

I wonder how many people view a casino's freeplay as losing less than sitting in front of the computer.

UltimateBet paid for my car

2009-11-12T04:04:00.003-05:00

I rented a car for Halloween so I wouldn't have to wear my costume on public transit. Apparently I went as Lenny Kravitz if Lenny were a Rastafarian New Zealander.

The Halloween party was a good time, with my costume significantly covering enough of me that I could lose my inhibitions and approach strange women with lighted breasts (who may have crashed our private party) and comically hump them like a dog with reckless abandon.

I also somehow sneaked a set of silverware into my oversized pocket. When drinking, I seem to develop kleptomania. Three more trips to that bar and I'll be ready to host a dinner party.

The next day, I drove to Four Winds and Blue Chip, a Boyd Gaming property in Michigan City, Indiana, that has one of the worst buffets I've ever had (yes, worse than Imperial Palace in Vegas). Though that didn't prevent me from using my buffet comps to stuff myself silly on a bad dinner and a bad breakfast.

Used up $150 in freeplay but the night ended up costing me much more.

Still, the room was nice and comfortable, and on the big screen TV I got to watch a behind-the-scenes look at the D.C. snipers (one of whose death I celebrated yesterday by going to Five Guys for lunch) and what George Washington really looked like.

On the way out was a line of senior citizens awaiting a lunch buffet for Bud Ruby's 90th. Hopefully we weren't sharing the same food, or Bud may not see 91.

Happy birthday, Bud.

Cooped up without a car for 3 years, the drive to the casinos was an excuse to find a nice long peaceful road to drive on. And of course, at the destination I could take out my frustrations and stress and anger on gambling. There's such satisfaction to slapping that slot machine button, risking H1N1, and ogling girls dressed up as Wonder Woman -- all under one roof.

Laziness ensued after the rental week was up, so I extended it for one more week and have been going to Target every day. The Toyota Aztec is really growing on me, I may never give it up.

* * *
My bulk email folder showed me that UltimateBet spammed me with a free $25.

I haven't played UB since losing a ton in blackjack 3 years ago with no bonuses or points (I constantly wrote to them about that and they'd say "soon"), and I removed their software before the superaccount scandal.

But hey, a free $25 is worth re-installing for another peek at ol' Annie Duke.

Although I haven't played there in ages, they kept me at Contender level (I last played before they had any tiered status), and their new (?) RAISE program offers a way to trade my points for cash instead of some trifling in their store.

I had two options: trade 3572 points for $25 or 7144 for $50. I had more points, but it was capped at the odd 7144 number. Perhaps next month I'll be able to convert more.

I went with the $50, bringing my free loot to a total of $75.

To cash out, UB now charges a fee. A check by mail costs $8, a check by courier costs $25, and a wire transfer costs $50.

A 10 percent surcharge? No thanks. Maybe I could win 8 bucks to offset.

Wandering around their revamped site, I saw that the bad beat jackpot recently hit for a whopping $273k. They split $89k to the bad beat winner (quad Jacks), $44k to the winning hand (straight flush), $1351 to the 3 players in the hand, and $351 to 80 players at the same stakes.

They also removed multiplayer blackjack, which is what I lost big on a few years back. I'm guilty of flooding that chat box with creative curse words, expressing how rigged I thought blackjack was to fellow players. A few months later, players were found to be using poker accounts that saw every player's hole card. So the idea of rigged blackjack isn't that far off.

They also now have Step tourneys, which I hope Full Tilt adds soon. SnGs on Tilt are much more difficult now than they were 5 years ago, mostly because players are aware of the correct ICM pushes and calls, which to me makes the game more about luck.

But satellites and step tourneys -- those contain more recreational players.

Played a $10 step SnG, where I came in 9th. Then played an Elimination Blackjack game for $2, which I won.

Then returned to the beast and played regular blackjack.

Playing online blackjack for so long, you get a feel for hands and streaks. That's all fallacy, I'm sure (nothing about gambling is logical), but playing at UB was such a difference from playing at Bodog, where my flawed tracking shows the dealer consistently getting 4 times as many blackjacks as the player, over 5000 hands. And playing into my rigged conspiracy theory, Bodog is taking over 2 weeks now to send me my blackjack play history.

UB's blackjack seemed like regular table blackjack: in other words, non-rigged.

Played small to win the $8 shipping fee, then kept going and ended up running the $75 to $450 before cashing out.

$442 will cover the rental car for 2 weeks, and I like the idea of gambling paying for at least something before I inevitably lose it all.

Now to see if I can turn some other freeplay into my Vegas rental car payment next week.

How to stop master betting

2009-11-10T09:22:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, on Ask.com, someone searched for "i need help to stop mastyrbating i have been doing it for 2 years" and found Poker Grub.

After years of being online, the blog has finally achieved its goal of being the #3 site for misspelled masturbating.

Sorry, guy, except for the hairy palms and blindness, you're on your own.

Working in gaming, we were trying to come up with an all-encompassing word for a complete bet. In pai gow ("PAI GOW!" as grubette would say while throwing up her hands) there's generally a fortune bet/envy bonus, which is a side bet you can make in addition to your bet hand. This gets you something extra for a straight or better (all 7 cards) plus if another player gets quads or better, you share in their fortune.

That's a long way to say, what do you call the combined pai gow bet plus the side bet?

"Master Bet" was considered.

And then tossed.

Are you going to master bet? How many times did you master bet today? I can't master bet anymore because I'm married.

Welcome to Master Betters Anonymous.

Rethinking the UIGEA

2009-11-08T16:00:00.002-05:00

I talk to mamagrub on the phone once every couple months and she usually does all the talking.

Now that she's retired, she has time on her hands and has been taking a lot of trips -- the vacation kind (New Zealand, Canada, Hawaii) and the casino kind (every week in California or Las Vegas).

Chatting for 2.5 hours about slot machines can be grueling because I know what she's talking about already -- from new games to wins and losses to comps to the gambling experience. I can get a clear visual picture, though, since I tend to know the exact locations of the games in the casinos, just from visiting them so many times. If someone were to ask what my superpower is, it would be that, as meager a superpower as that might be.

But within those 2.5 hours she'll say things that have me laughing, usually about her own life.

A few days ago she visited grubette, who was taking care of a friend's black labrador. Before retiring this year, mamagrub taught elementary school for increasingly rowdy and unruly kids who had even rowdier and unrulier parents. She said that the dog was beautiful and all, but she couldn't look it in the face because it looked exactly like a kid she taught, who was the worst student of her entire career.

The image of a kid's face superimposed onto the dog's and mamagrub steering clear was enough to get me to forget about gambling losses for the day.

* * *
And oh those gambling losses.

In the apartment across the hall (which used to be the apartment above before I moved upstairs), I hear a loud TV blasting the Bears game. The guy is pretty vocal, so I can follow what's going on based on what he's yelling.

And what he just yelled is: "Oh my God, fucking hell! Jesus Christ! Fuck fuck fuck!"

Sounds like the Cardinals scored.

Or it could just as well be a bad beat on the river.

His timings seem coordinated to my poker sessions. I generally show no reaction (positive or negative), but my thoughts are conveniently projected through him.

Gambling has been of crushing proportions lately. I currently have less than $500 in my Full Tilt account, which is sadly more than what's in my bank account.

Thinking back to my time in Vegas, I had maxed out my credit cards, cashed out my 401(k), and took an $8.50/hour job in my second year there. If not for Pauly signing on as a roommate to split costs (which he paid for a few months in advance), I don't know what I would've done.

Now, even with a full-time job that pays more than $8.50/hour, my credit cards are again close to maxing out and I've borrowed against my 401(k).

Three years later, I realize I'm in pretty much the same position as I was then.

Poker has taken a drastic downturn. I can be up $4000 after a month and then lose it all in a few days. The swings aren't just from sit-n-gos; when I'm on a Sharkscope Super Tilt, I tend to load up the heads-up and 6max games where I'm usually crushed for double what my Sharkscope graph shows.

I began recording 50/50 hands, where I'm all-in against someone else pre-flop. After almost 300 of these, I'm averaging 31 percent. Even giving myself 10 percent for errors and forgetting to record in my favor, that seems pretty far off. Then again, it may still be a small sample and in the near future I'll have a lot of pocket pairs that will hold up.

I don't think online poker is rigged, but I do think I'm getting terribly unlucky.

And that's par for the course in other luck areas -- slots and online blackjack being the primary culprits of my addiction. You'd think I would've hit something big in slots, for the amount I play.

Playing on a bank of Cash Express slot machines, a woman sitting next to me said she only plays Geisha at 27 credits a spin (at nickel denom, $1.35). And she's hit the top progressive nine times.

Nine friggin' times! Seven of those times were for $10,000 or more.

I'm now making it my life mission to win one of these.

I no longer play games such as Mr. Cashman or Gold Fish, where I can only win 40x bet or so. Instead, I'm going for the big scores.

Over in blackjack, an online casino sent me a personal offer that I couldn't pass up: on any deposit, an instant 10 percent bonus that I can immediately play with, and 25 percent of any losses would be comped back to me. Also: no playthrough and unlimited withdrawals with no fees whether courier or wire transfer.

And in addition to that, they still offer cash comps based on playthrough.

Seemingly the advantage play would be to deposit a large amount, play with just the 10 percent bonus, then withdraw the whole thing. They'd probably kick me out of the VIP program if I did it too many times.

I had stopped playing this online casino because I had 5 credit cards/gift cards registered and it wouldn't let me register another. A quick online chat had them remove all 5 and allowed me to register the new card.

And I was back in business with a higher deposit limit of $5k per month.

Not that I would ever reach that, but then, last year my limit was $3k per month and I maxed that out pretty often.

My credit card let out a sigh as I did several deposits and used the 25 percent comp several times. Within that, I picked up a royal on quarter video poker ($1000) and was dealt quad Aces with a 3 kicker on dollar ($2000).

And still lost.

Last night I deposited $500, lost that, deposited $400, and won that back plus $1700. Then gave that $1700 back. I drowned my sorrow in Panda Express.

I've now withdrawn my $900 to see if I will get 25 percent on that original $500 lost. I also requested my entire blackjack play history for the past 4 weeks.

In my gamblin' heyday in Washington, D.C. and Las Vegas, I was playing online blackjack at a playthrough of $1.6 million per month (I knew this because I would get cash comps of $1600 every month, plus giant gift baskets every holiday).

The house edge on the blackjack I was playing was very low -- assuming perfect strategy (which Microgaming had on autoplay), I was playing a 0.3 percent game.

Even at 0.3 percent, though, I was expected to lose $4800 per month.

That seems unfathomable now. But the play history will be a wakeup call, I'm sure, to see just how close I am to reverting back to my old ways.

I want to put a stop to this, he says, being a few days away from going to Vegas.

I signed up to the Poker Players Alliance but elected not to renew after sending my name and email to senators who now spam me with their form letters. I rescinded my support, because I now think that we (meaning I) would really be better off without online gambling of any sort.

And if online poker is considered part of that, so be it.

The Blade of Damascus: collaborating with David S. Goyer (kinda)

2009-10-03T16:32:00.001-04:00

The excellent new ABC series "FlashForward" has creator David S. Goyer in the news, and while searching through some old writing I didn't know I still had, I found this.

In July 1998 (back when everyone was still saying "the World Wide Web" and I was writing in WordPerfect 5.1 for DOS), TNT and New Line held a contest entitled the Rough Cut Screenplay Challenge. Goyer wrote the first few pages of a science-fiction spec script that would introduce characters and his world, then anyone could continue the story by submitting the next 10 pages of what happens next.

Judges picked the best one to post, and it continued until the end (100-120 pages), when Goyer would wrap up the entire story with a final 5 pages.

I never read the final script (roughcut.com doesn't seem to exist anymore, auto-forwarding to TNT), but I do remember a chance to win a laptop and, even better, collaborate with Goyer.

I was (and still am) a big fan of Goyer because he wrote one of my favorite movies, Dark City. This was right before Blade, which came out during the contest.

Reading through my submission, I vaguely remember writing it. I recall the themes I was trying to introduce, along with a trippy twist at the end for the next writer to pick up on. Science fiction was (and is) completely out of my element, which was another reason for wanting to compete.

It wasn't picked by the judges, but I still thought it was pretty good. Certainly better than anything I'm writing now.

Five months after the contest, I began -- but never finished -- my first science fiction script, which incorporated some of the same elements of what I'd introduced (though no time travel).

1998 was a time of prolific writing for me. It was also when I transitioned away from screenplays and into plays, when I'd actually see my stuff produced. If that great time- and moneysuck of gambling and Vegas and poker hadn't overtaken my life, I imagine I would've had a very different life.

Or I'd have a bunch more scripts stuffed in a drawer.

My great return to writing fizzled today, with my missing the deadline for the play workshop contest. So my penance is to convert my old sci-fi script into Final Draft and see if I can remember where I was going with it, and if it's salvageable enough to finish it.

So as I continue my trip down a writerly memory lane (i.e., procrastinating), here's a PDF of The Blade of Damascus, Goyer's opening combined with my unedited continuation (which begins at page 5). It may seem disconnected because I picked up after someone else's posted pages, which I no longer have.

Abandonment issues with the gas station guy

2009-09-24T12:24:00.002-04:00

Nine years ago, a women's theater in Los Angeles did a staged reading of seven of my short plays, and because it was a workshop and I couldn't be there, they discussed the plays afterwards and then jotted down comments anonymously.

Depending on the piece and theater company, I sometimes submitted plays with just my first initial so that being male wouldn't bias the initial reader. I didn't do that with this group.

For some reason, when I received the comments I put them in an envelope and stored them in a closet, never reading them.

Going through boxes as I was unpacking, I found the cards and read through them. I found it serendipitous because I'm struggling to write something now, and I needed the pick-me-up (or criticism). Nine years was enough distance away that I was no longer close to the plays, which have faded like old memories.

In no particular order, here are some of the comments…

You don't need bad words, dear.

Why would Maddie say the "F" word -- unless women say that word all that much? Love the tooth fairy that is holding the stars together by floss.

Get the current terms of "boss" and "cool" from young people who actually listen to that music. What terms do kids say these days?

Not funny. Just another excuse to use the "F" word. These people need help, not funny.

Whoa. Where did that come from? Not sure what comment to say except that -- go figure -- it WAS entertaining. Demented, twisted -- but funny as hell. Something About Mary with a baby instead of a dog -- crossed with David Lynch. Sure was funny (better as a movie?). It worked.

Very scattered and overly dramatic.

Weird, but funny! I'd make a hell of a great baby! [Name & phone #] if you ever do it out here in LA!

Has pathos, on track. Nice piece for young actress.

My first impression is I have no idea what was happening. Why the cat? What nurse? Huh? Very interesting.

Poison stinger near end was great. But what tone do you want? Bittersweet or just Neil Simon.

I felt you introduced ideas and then didn't resolve them.

Needed more bite between sisters.

Very lyrical, meaning very deep.

I would have liked for it to be a bit deeper.

The characters were a bit cliche.

What's with the "sun" stuff in the beginning?

Crazy, loony, but very effective. I had my doubts about this one but it worked. Very allegorical.

I didn't trust the character, so when she started showing her vulnerability and pain, I had a wall up to her.

I related to her.

Was Christopher Durang-ish -- entertaining with shock value.

Schtick went on too long.

Good and heartfelt.

Dragged out.

Absolutely captivating. Want more.

Emergency arose -- had to leave early. Lives a long distance away.

Truthful, witty dialogue.

Yuck. Would need an exceptional actor to pull this off.

Wow. Very sweet. Very moving. Very real. Very honest. Very poignant. Very good. Wow.

Beaches-esque.

You have many stops in the middle of thoughts which is an interesting style, but difficult to constantly believe and follow.

Lead me down a path to a beautiful destination.

Touching and beautiful story.

Would have liked more dynamicism in it.

I'm pro-choice and this ending made me uncomfortable.

Thank you for writing lots of female characters.

Love metaphysical plots.

Could feel her pain of lost son as I have lost mine short time ago.

Kept me in suspense.

A nice, Kafa-esque feel, almost of being in some kind of between-life-and-death limbo.

A more traditional -- or should I say "classic" approach to drama -- paid off in a more engrossing and involving drama. Skirted the edges of soap opera, but managed to avoid tripping over the line. Should try this more traditional line of writing more often -- a success!

Nice boiling of emotions, confusion, and grappling with conflicting thoughts.

Touched a chord in me -- was touching since I've been through a divorce and miscarriage. Fascinating. Bravo. Loved so much happening at once. I enjoyed the mystery of it.

Touching -- felt her pain.

I liked it -- typical -- perhaps a little too trite -- too common.

I could see the dark-haired "Dynasty" star -- forgot her name -- playing Vanessa.

Interesting piece with warmth and loving peace at end.

Good that you differentiate "au revoir" and "adieu."

Too farfetched.

The feeling that she is all alone really comes out.

You captured the female sarcasm and fears. Some gals I know could really act that way but no "F" words -- who talks that way, just dumb guys do.

Not sure about cat?

What purpose does the cat hold?

All made sense at ending but why the gas station man.

Not clear about the gas station guy.

What was their relationship to the guy at the gas station.

We never really know what it was -- was it a man? Was it the gas station guy?

Why bring a bimbo to this event?

Lots of abandonment issues.

Eye for an eye, or a turkey dinner

2009-09-07T12:32:00.002-04:00

Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" annoys me for some reason; I feel the same way about Lady Gaga herself.

But this "Poker's Gay" parody created for a guy's 25th birthday is funny and inside and shows he has great friends who tolerate his constant online poker playing.

No thanks to Full Tilt's triple points promo (doubled up with Take 2), Labor Day weekend was spent putting a lot of hours at the tables. Began down $700, then down another $600, then made it all back plus some. Big swings for piddly SnGs (made worse by the sorry fact I jump into -EV heads-up cash games after a few too many SnG beats). And the weekend's not over, with one final 3x sprint starting up in a couple hours.

Elated at the miraculous recovery, I texted a friend who responded, "Not gonna quit while you're ahead?"

After a lifetime of gambling, I don't think I can ever be ahead.

I said I'm saving up for a TV.

Which can happen in a few ways. I have enough Full Tilt points to get a 37" LCD or I can save another 2 months' worth of points to get a 50" plasma.

Or I can cash in my Iron Man medals for $75 tournament tokens and try to win enough to buy the TV outright (the same Panasonic Viera G10 50" goes for $1200 on Amazon -- which in 2 months would probably be $1100). If I think I'm any good at SnGs, this shouldn't be that difficult. And I can keep my points.

Or I can just keep playing. I'm not too far away from getting the TV anyway. But really, the TV's the biggest item in the store (not counting the Mini Cooper for just 2.6 million more points)… what else would I use the points for?

2009 has been a brutal year for me in poker. From Aug. 1-19, I deposited 10 times for $2339 (I deposit in odd amounts to be able to keep track). My last deposit was Aug. 19 for $300 and have since made it all back. Hopefully the seed money will keep going, though anytime I get cocky I go on massive downswings and have to use my points for a few tournaments to try to get me above water again. I do think I'm overdue to get my coin flips back up to 50/50 (even though each is still independent at 50/50). I've been tracking my all-in beats for hands like QQ vs. AK, and I'm at 30/70. But that's over a small 200-game sample, along with human error (the losses are more memorable than the wins -- speaking of, my longest loss in a row was 14, which matches my loss record in blackjack). Here's hoping I'll be ahead over the next 200 flips.

I've been without a TV for 3 years now, do I really need one?

Wouldn’t the money better be spent saving up for a car?

Or paying medical bills?

On Aug. 23, my eye had bloated up into something out of a horror movie (I'd say Fulci), with blood, pus, and tears all caked up and conspiring to get rid of the foreign object within, which was seemingly something like a smaller eye growing under my eyelid that was competing to push my eye out of its socket.

The doctors and I don't know how it began except that it started with a gland infection. I was moving the whole weekend (dust particles?) and had what felt like a stye which got progressively worse and then ballooned into what looked like going a few rounds with Mike Tyson (well, one round).

I'm not prone to going to doctors. My last regular one was Dr. Takagi in my early teens. Then one more visit to a Kaiser Permanente doctor through my first full-time job, and since then nothing. In Vegas, I purchased my own health insurance through esurance.com, but in the final months when money was tight I got rid of that.

So I don't take hospital visits lightly, preferring to wait it out.

The pain in my eye was so great that I had no choice not to go.

I had rented a minivan to help with the move (not so much with furniture, which was being delivered, but with buying new stuff), and it worked out being able to drive myself around and stop at the McDonald's drive-thru where I didn't have to deal with people staring (it's my right eye, so I could stay in profile while paying and getting my Angus mushroom burgers).

First stop was the MinuteClinic, a little walk-in clinic inside select CVS drugstores. Much better experience than going to a hospital.

I parked in the lot and dug into my fries, while dabbing at the constant tears coming out of my eye.

A car pulled up in front of me, and he parked and waited. Then another woman pulled up and did the same thing. And a third guy. I was surrounded.

Why were these people just staying in their car and not going into the store?

They probably didn't care, but if they took a look at me, I would've been observed as massively bawling while stuffing myself with McDonald's in a Dodge Grand Caravan.

Making a beeline to the MinuteClinic, I was second on the waiting list. I stood with my right side against an end-of-aisle wall of toilet paper while pretending to concentrate on my iPhone. This took attention away from my Elephant Man impression.

Until a couple came down the aisle, looking at toilet paper sales. I was in their way, even though they could've walked around.

I looked at both of them with my Terminator eye before moving to the waiting room chair. They didn't see where I went, but to add to my sensitivity, as they walked away I heard one say, "Did you see that guy's eye?"

The doctor saw me in a few minutes and said to go straight to the ER, that she suspected orbital cellulitis and didn't want to mess around.

I hopped back in the minivan and went to the ER she recommended, debating whether I should change into clean underwear.

The hospital took me immediately, and suddenly I was in a swarm of doctors and nurses who alternated between poking and prodding, and leaving me alone to a marathon of CSI reruns (which made me realize I don't miss having a TV).

I was given a numbing agent and other things for my eye, a culture of my eye pus was taken, I was wheeled down to the basement for a CT scan (felt like a Disneyland ride in the wheelchair), I was doped up with an IV drip of clindamycin, and I was offered a free turkey dinner.

And you know I'm feeling bad when I turn down a free meal.

And then I waited for 2 hours while they consulted with an eye specialist to see if I should stay the night or go home with drugs (that could include intravenous, the needle of which I couldn't even administer correctly to a diabetic 20-year-old cat when I was petsitting).

I texted grubette about my progress, and she looked up the suspected diagnosis and said they would just give me a bunch of antibiotics and I'd be as good as new.

Looking in the mirror, my eye was pushed toward my nose like a crazy Halloween death mask. I just wanted to grab a spoon and pop out the cursed thing just to make the pain go away. I could scarcely believe I'd bounce back from this.

Sitting in Exam Room #1, I watched patients swoon over a gay Hispanic George Clooney doctor, I heard Mr. Gonzales have a temper tantrum that caused all of security to rush in (the way my mind works, I viewed it as a con's distraction and looked for potential hospital drug thieves), and I saw a hot nurse open a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos and eat them one by one while licking her fingers.

The doctor came in with results of the CAT scan and said, "Unfortunately, the infection spread to the bone area around your eye." The concern was that it had spread to my brain, where it looked like it was headed. But he figured antibiotics would take care of it.

The official diagnosis was indeed orbital cellulitis, a.k.a. infection of the eye socket. My prescription was 1200 mg of clindamycin and 1000 mg of ciprofloxacin per day (pills, thank goodness), plus followup visits with an eye specialist.

And then, 5 hours after admittance, I was let go.

I'm now off the medication, and my eye looks and feels a lot better thanks to the miracle drugs.

The specialist (wearing a red bow-tie) who looked at me in the followup visit said that if they hadn't caught the infection in time, it would've been "lethal."

Conveying that on Facebook, a friend said, "Lethal like you could take out a group of baseball bat wielding teenagers or lethal like you could take out a small city?"

I like to think of my eye shooting lasers at evildoers, but I'll take feeling normal anytime.

Vegas!by grubette

2009-07-10T19:04:00.001-04:00

I have finally recovered from a long weekend in Vegas.

This trip was to celebrate the removal of this APA Perrla icon from my desktop. If you know what it is, you know what I've been doing for the past 2 1/2 years. This little program saved me the purchase of a $125 book, despite the bemoaning of my professors.

I did a little analysis on the cost of attendance for my newly minted degree: $24 for tuition and a few hundred for books. Tuition was mostly waived by work. Books I bought and sold back on half.com. Who says you can't go to school for nearly free? You only have to know how to work the system (and be a public ~~slave~~ servant for a few years). Ironically, the cost to request to graduate was $50, more than twice my tuition! Also ironically, after being a piss poor student during my undergrad years, I graduated this time with a 3.9 GPA (a statistic that no one but adoring mamagrub would admire).

As Vegas would not be Vegas without grubby, he met us for the holiday weekend. Doug and I were also joined by Samir, Iden and Sonya (from the OC yo). Grubs hooked us up at Flamingo and we hooked him up at Harrah's.

The OC gang hit the Orleans. Flamingo has the best pool on the strip for the price. Yes, laden with screaming kids, but ah, the little devils are absent from the $10-for-men-women-are-free European bathing section, smack in the middle. FYI, Diamond members are free, plus a guest. A few buckets of beer and lots of sunblock later, and we were all feeling pretty hot. Samir said the $10 entrance fee was worth seeing titties. Doug had a breast rub up against him when a woman in the pool lunged for a beach ball. I briefly took off my top to channel Europeans. Liberating.

On to Hofbrauhaus, Doug's favorite Vegas joint. The experience is surreal, group seating (us next to a couple who went machine gun target shooting), random spankings (free with the purchase of a shot of Jager), the Riccola pipe being blown, all-girl beer-chugging and who can hold a full stein the longest contests. I ordered spaeztle and the soup special of the day, "Hofbrauhaus Dumpling Soup". Turns out the "dumplings" were "liver balls" so I opted for a full stein of beer instead and tried squishing the liver balls into the "bacon grease and dumpling salad". Iden tried to determine whether or not purchasing a "Das Boot" beer glass was wise for $79.99 in the gift shop. He purchased a regular beer stein and a shirt at the urging of the German-accented cashier. Samir got spanked.

To Mandalay, my favorite Vegas joint. We stopped at the sportsbook bar for a beer while Iden picked up some sake in a Starbucks coffee cup. We were offered free tickets to Kathy Griffin by some woman with extra tickets (you'd have to pay me to see her). Then we chanced the Arctic freeze at Minus 5, paying $25 apiece to put on a parka and sit in a bar made of ice. Note to potential visitors: the Minus 5 snowbunnies whoring at the entrance charge you to take photos with them, but the loser in a penguin costume does not.

Before entering, the employees do their requisite speech about always using a coaster with your ice glasses lest they freeze to the ice tabletop, and they recommend you do not bring your cell phone inside because the cold may render them useless (yeah, how do people in Minnesota use cell phones, c'mon, they only want you to purchase their photos and not take crappy ones from your 0.5 megapixel cameraphone). Inside, Doug did a shot from the ice boob, chomped on an ice glass, and Iden ripped off his parka and shirt to stick himself to ice Elvis.

Sonya excused herself to go to the bathroom and was gone forever, as usual. She was wearing what she called "F-me heels" so maybe she was a slow walker? The guys and I stood outside waiting and speculating.

Me: Why does Sonya take so long in the bathroom?
Doug: Maybe she's masturbating.
Iden: Maybe she's p**ping.
Samir: Maybe she's masturbating with her p**p (gesticulates).

Dammit I almost spit up from laughing so hard (see next paragraphs).

I called up Seamless and they sent over the shuttle to pick us up at Mandalay. An ordinary shuttle from the outside, but a party bus inside! Note to visitors: taking the shuttle gives you waived $30 admission to the club (or asking for Jamie, or having a NV license). Found grubby hanging out with a blonde hottie, having been there several hours already. The guys got swarmed by girls while I bought a $9 beer. We ended up in a roped VIP area because Iden, lugging his treasures from Hofbrauhaus, was mistaken for a guy from "The Hills" and led to a special area.

I'm not sure if it's weird to go to a strip club with your brother, but going to a unisex bathroom with your brother is borderline. It's kind of like watching porn with your mother. Porn with your mother f'ing a turkey.

I started feeling nauseous so Doug and I left the gang to enjoy. In the cab ride back to Flamingo I started to feel cold. The cabbie was chatting away, apparently unaware I was now feeling cold and clammy. Nearing Flamingo, we passed right by it because pedestrians blocked its entrance. Cold, clammy, hand on door handle. I said let's just get out here but cabbie insisted on dropping us off at valet. Cold, clammy, hand on door handle, taste of bile and smell of liver balls. He drops us off and I stumble to the room and into the bathroom where oh shoot Hofbrauhaus revisits! Fifteen years with only two vomiting episodes, I couldn't believe I was heaving and couldn't stop. I had to simultaneously keep flushing the toilet while holding back my hair. It took me back to when I was 9, ate a hot dog and then swam in my cousin's pool. I had hair down to my ass that summer, and after the dip in the pool, I had chunks of hot dog in it too (my hair, not my ass).

Everyone knows I'm a light beer drinker only so I suppose Hofbrauhaus' lager, not to mention the size of its steins, didn't do me any favors. I drank a bottle of water and texted grubby:

The next morning I felt great.

To celebrate the 4th of July, we wandered around, unsure of where to go. Wound up at Margaritaville, another of Doug's favorite places. The tabletent decided our plans: "This table has a $30 an hour minimum between 5:30pm-9:30pm". Fireworks were going to be shot off Caesar's Palace, directly across the street. F-Train joined us until he scurried off to an invite-only at Caesar's Pure. Fireworks were great, even though they didn't have my favorite smiley face one. Samir spent a good two hours talking to/picking up a woman waiting for her, uh, 20 year old daughter.

We moved on to O'Shea's to play some cheap craps but the tables were too full. Played a little blackjack and then made our way to the bar to get some drinks and play some video poker. F-Train re-joined us and I told him to play my machine while I visited the restroom. When I returned, I had about $5 left, having put $20 in. I played the remaining credits and then drank my "free" beer. After awhile F-Train confessed, showing me a $100+ slot cash out, saying he hit quads on my machine during my brief bathroom trip! Love F-Train, despite his sheisty ways! Truth be told, after hitting the quads, grubs told him to cash it out quickly and re-deposit $10 more before I returned. What would mamagrub say about that behavior?

Then to Harrah's to play loads of pai gow and some short lived craps where I rolled once and couldn't hit a single point. Harrah's pai gow is usually my favorite, but this time the dealers were surly and the minimum bonus bet was $5. I usually play $5 anyway, but it didn't entice F-Train to even consider betting the bonus. Didn't win a single dime as usual.

Another pokerless trip to Vegas. Another checkmark in my vomit log. And another well spent celebration in the bestest city. I'll see Vegas again on 8/27, where I got comp'd at the noodle bar. If anyone is in town, let's play some pai gow!

Procrastination is keeping me waiting

2009-06-29T23:47:00.001-04:00

I'm a big procrastinator.

The good thing is that a lot of my life at home is the complete opposite at work. At work, I'm pretty organized, efficient, and get stuff done.

At home, all I want to do is play online poker, eat, and sleep. For me, "online poker" is one of my primary levels under Maslow's hierarchy of physiological needs.

Like being a functional gambling addict, I'm a functional procrastinator.

Now I have to clean the apartment because it's being shown tomorrow, which is why I'm delaying by writing this. (I'm busted again from Full Tilt, but I've made Iron Man for the month so Maslow can suck it.)

I have less than a month to find a place. I want something in walking distance or at least a short bus ride to work, and I want a nice kitchen and a nice bathroom, so I can maybe invite people over for a nice dinner and a nice shit.

That would also require furniture, which I still haven't purchased after 3 years because I still feel like I could get fired at any moment, and I need to be able to pick up and move easily. I've always marveled at hobos or The Incredible Hulk, who could fit all their belongings into that little bindle as they traversed the railroad tracks to a sad piano tune. The Hulk had even less belongings, as he always busted through his clothes anytime anyone made him angry. A couple Anger Management classes would've saved a bundle on his clothing budget.

A new apartment near work goes for roughly double what I'm paying now for my squat studio -- and the neighborhood would be considerably worse than my current one. Go figure on that one. Why can't I stay another year and put the extra money to a monthly car payment (plus furniture, even), and still have enough left over to blow on gambling?

Beats me. Could've asked that last year as well. Procrastination again. I like not having to worry about a car, particularly when dealing with the brutal 16 months of winter every year. My car was totaled by a snowplow on the first midwest snowfall I experienced (I later blew the insurance money playing online blackjack), so I wasn't subjected to the horrors of winter driving that I left behind in D.C. when moving to Vegas.

Car problems aren't what I'm eagerly looking forward to, either. But can I deal with trudging through the snow to wait for a late bus, getting fatter by not eating healthy (my kitchen consists of an untouched oven/stove and a refrigerator storing Ben & Jerry's), and squashing dozens of ants every day for exercise?

We'll see. The physical act of moving my ass at all surely takes the top spot on the procrastination list.

How not to flirt

2009-06-08T03:24:00.002-04:00

It was a beautiful summer night in Chicago, made even better by just being Friday in general to kick off the weekend, and I joined some friends for martinis and shots at my local bar.

This is one of two local bars that has Coffee Patron, which the bartender keeps handy because it's her favorite tequila. I like this bar because they have a $3 burger with fries on Mondays, $5 martinis on Fridays, and all the waitstaff drink throughout their shift.

And not just any drinks but Jameson.

Our server Lacie said when she interviewed, they asked what her favorite drink was. She was hired on the spot after she said Jameson, and shots were poured to celebrate.

Lacie doesn't have the hardcore redneck vibe going for her that the other servers do, but she seemed sweet and friendly.

I brought up my standard prop betting on the server -- pets, birthplace, tattoos, etc.

The rules: we each make a bet and collect the pot if we're correct. If none of us are right, the server gets the whole thing.

"What kind of car does she drive?" I asked the group. I took out a $5. They said "no car" but didn't look willing to play. I reduced my $5 to a $1, but it wasn't enough coaxing.

The girl in my group said that it was somewhat degrading and not at all flirting by wagering on the waitress.

Even though I've moved from Las Vegas, it hasn't moved from me. But I have to remember that not everyone is in a gambling state of mind.

My friend also said she thought Lacie liked me because of the mutual flirting she picked up, and I shouldn't spoil it.

We were one Zombie, two martinis, and two Coffee Patrons into the night, and I asked Lacie what the girliest shot on the menu was.

The fallback was going to be a Chocolate Cake with the backup of an Oatmeal Cookie.

Lacie instantly said both with no hint of derision, particularly since she was a Jameson woman.

We went with the Chocolate Cake (Frangelico, vanilla vodka, sugar around the rim, and a lemon), and as always, it was delicious.

I tried to get the group to go for a Jameson so I could buy Lacie one too, but it was too soon and we had to let the liquid settle.

When Lacie returned, as a conversation starter, I asked her if she knew the song "One Night in Bangkok."

We had been talking about David Carradine's death in Bangkok, and the song kept whirling around my head. Particularly the song's lyric: "One night in Bangkok, and the world's your oyster."

"And the world's your oyster?"

My friends said that couldn't be right. I began doubting it too -- that's a pretty ridiculous lyric, even for ABBA. Chess is one of my favorite musicals, I've seen it three times and wore out the two albums I had, but I never cared for that song. And even so, could I be humming the wrong lyric the entire time?

My iPhone wasn't getting reception, so I put the test to Lacie, who knew the song, but didn't recognize the lyric.

She said she got lyrics wrong all the time, which I do too when I can remember them.

"Sometimes," I said, "you're singing along with the lyrics and you don't even know what they mean."

Lacie nodded excitedly and agreed.

"Like that Kenny Rogers song," I said. "You know the one about the guy who was called a coward and told to always run away from bad situations or else end up like his father in jail?"

I was met with a blank stare, including my friends who didn't know the song.

And I knew where this was heading as my foot moved to my mouth.

"So you're singing along to this nice little country song," I said, "and then you realize that the guy's girlfriend was gang raped."

Lacie literally took a step back from the table.

On poker sites, you can self-exclude yourself to prevent donking off your bankroll. You can self-exclude yourself from casinos too, which then even makes you guilty of trespassing.

I need to self-exclude myself from my rapidly degenerating conversations.

"I mean, gang rape!" I emphasized in a joking way, not helping matters by repeating it loudly.

I tried to recover the moment, saying how it was nice Kenny Rogers and that the guy in the song finally stood up, and...

Lacie walked away.

My friends stared at me incredulously as I said what happened? We were having fun.

"I don't know, could it possibly have been because you kept mentioning gang rape?"

Lacie later appeared one more time with the check, and didn't say anything more to us.

Afterwards, I returned home, put on "Coward of the County" that was missing the gang rape lyrics and wondered if I imagined the whole thing (I didn't -- check the other YouTube videos).

I then launched Full Tilt with no self-exclusion and entered a few sit-n-gos before passing out during the first orbit (while asleep, I placed 4th in both -- always the bubble).

No time like the presentby grubette

2009-04-13T14:08:00.002-04:00

It's only April and not even close to thinking about Winter Blogger events or the National Rodeo, but since I found this great deal, I thought I'd share.

At the MGM, this deal is $220 for a weekend December 11-12, 2009 and includes "all day passes" at the MGM Grand Buffet. This allows for a non-stop grubfest of food, at a buffet that's actually quite good.

I've been running hot and cold at the tables lately with nothing to note.

The other day, I was witness to a AA vs JJ $100 NL showdown pre-flop, that resulted in an Ace on the flop, then runner-runner J's for Aces full vs. quads, a $100k jackpot.

$100k jackpots aren't that unusual, and neither is a celebratory dance on a chair, as the bad beat guy did (heck, I'd be on the table stripping while doing karaoke if I won $60,000 in a bad beat).

What is unique is that the bad beat guy's day job is sitting on the 605 North Carson off ramp, holding a sign that says "homeless." I didn't believe this at first, until I talked to a bunch of people including the floor supervisor, who confirmed that on any given night 10-15 homeless people are wandering around, including the bad beat guy. Everyone I talked to also unanimously said, "Good for him."

Was I the only one thinking WTF?! I don't know his situation and don't really care, but anyone who sits on the side of the road for handouts and then uses that to play $100 no limit?? Then gets luckier than most of the poor saps in the joint to win $60k!

Good lord what has this world come to. I'm bitter for sure.

The lipids of grubetteby grubette

2009-02-24T19:44:00.003-05:00

And here we are in 2009, ready for another round of "Check out grubette's lipids."

At first blush, these appear to be fine numbers. However, my cholesterol overall number is nearly 30 points more than last year. I blame my rising HDL, the good cholesterol, skewing my results. By the way, HDL range is generally around 40-50, but the higher the better. Why this year are my HDL's at alien levels? Let's see what the experts list as ways to increase levels and how I contribute.

How Can We Increase Our HDL Levels?

Aerobic exercise. I walk my dog three times a day. However, she has ballooned to 42 lbs. because she is often caught scarfing down cat food. I also bought an i-Gallop because you can "exercise while watching tv." It's gathering dust.

Lose weight. Nope.

Stop smoking. Nope.

Cut out the trans fatty acids. I believe the government and McDonald's is doing this for me.

Alcohol. Alcohol is good for HDL levels. I blame this.

Increase the monounsaturated fats in your diet. I'm not too big on oils or peanut butter.

Add soluble fiber to your diet. SpaghettiO's have 3g of fiber and grapes have 1g. That's about the extent of my fiber intake.

I have no idea. Genes maybe? Poorly trained blood testers? In either case, it's a strong indication I won't drop dead of heart disease any time soon. I'll get back to you next year.

I've been recovering from Vegas a couple weekends ago, having endured a pounding on slots but did find a shining bright spot that is pai gow.

Played on IP $1/2 NL semi-blogger table of BWoP, F-Train and a new guy Pokergrump, who said he often sees this blog on rolls because it's so similar in name. Grump was not as his name suggests, and was quite comical as a relaxed local, even casually bringing in his double scoop waffle cone and eating it on the table, to the chagrin of every other player that can't eat, play cards and stack chips at the same time.

$1/2 card playing is terribly boring. I drank more beers than the number of hands I played. I donkeyed out F-Train on one bored hand, causing him to huff off. That was like the only hand I won and couldn't even enjoy it. Even worse, I hadn't played poker in over a week so I was ready to play and rake in some chips. But it was not to be.

Mamagrub also showed up to IP that night, checking into a room over looking the Carnival Court bar, rousing even at 3am. Since my mother is more of a sleeper than a partier, she wasn't too keen on watching and listening to drunkards. Fortunately, I had another room at IP for her, complete with a bar, a pull out wipe clean sofa and mirrored ceilings.

Doug and I stayed and didn't play at the Palazzo -- there is nothing better than waking up in the morning and pushing a button to dramatically raise the roman blinds to peer out onto the Wynn, its golf course and the newly built Encore. And to realize it's daylight. And not morning, afternoon, but whatever.

We did actually visit Encore, walking through the Wynn to witness a woman having a seizure on the floor amid scores of camera wielding onlookers. Doug walked away quickly saying he didn't want to stare, but commented that she had red panties on. Both casinos are ok, overdone a bit and lacking the feeling of luck.

Ah Vegas. It's like a bad boyfriend you keep going back to.

So I finally joined the facebook revolution. Perhaps that's too strong of a word --"networking application" then. It's absolutely wonderful to see all the bloggers on there with their real names. I wonder how people have time for this .. blogging, facebooking, along with work and life. I think myself adept at multitasking, working on two applications today while also shopping for a purse and thinking about my looming paper due in a few days for one of my classes. Last two classes. Can't. Wait.

Time to go home - and walk my dog to get those HDL levels up.

22 days in Vegasby grubette

2008-12-23T17:05:00.003-05:00

Seeing grubby's post I counted how many days I'd been Vegas over the year. Twenty-two, not counting the seven upcoming days to round out the year. It seems like an enormous amount of time to spend someplace, but then again, I live less than an hour's plane flight away.

I'm somewhat as comp-happy as grubs is, mostly staying in free hotel rooms but not getting much else. I love Vegas because it presents opportunities - not just to make money but also to do whatever you want to do and not be judged for it. Drinks at 10am? Smoking in the bathroom? $100 bills in Devil Poker? All-in on draws? No snickers or glares here.

At an end of the year happy hour last week, a co-worker of mine showed me a picture of his wife and new baby on his phone. It was right after the baby was born, mom and baby were both naked, and they were both in a tub full of brown goo and blood from the natural home delivery. Not something you should do at a bar, no. Vegas yes, but a bar, no. I don't particularly enjoy seeing regular baby pictures let alone ones that include afterbirth.

So Vegas beckons again in a few days. I had so much fun at the blogger winter tourney last week, this time it will be more sedate of a time. I crashed out early of the tourney when my pocket Aces met up with Iggy's AQ. Two Q's on the board and it was over. I did return to watch the final table and see Heather and Obie battle it out - congrats Heather!

I did not win much of anything that weekend, especially my generally stable Pai Gow. I probably would not have been on as much of an all-things-gambling-tilt had I not pushed twice into two different pots with grubby and lost both times. I also lost the last longer bet with grubs.

The only thing I won was at the airport before actually stepping into a casino. My dentist called me to tell me I won Zoom! teeth whitening, a thrice a year contest I've been entering for 11 years. Add that to my cat's neutering I won on a radio contest and a wine tasting party for 25 as some of the odder things I've won. One year my new year's "resolution" was to enter as many sweepstakes and contests as I could. A la Real Genius, you should win a certain percentage of your entries. I ended up with a crapload of junk mail.

Staying away from HI-G since the blogger tourney, I played two qualifiers on Pokerstars' WBCOOP (Omaha and No Limit). Got about halfway with Omaha and made 132nd in No Limit out of 500+ players. At one point, I had so many chips I could've sat out and been blinded until I came in 72nd. I think I even got as far as I did because I took a 20 minute break to walk my dog. Online poker is so awkward. Quick calls or slow plays, how can you tell if it's a connection thing or bluff or what?

A memorable part of the blogger tourney trip was Doug meandering over to the IP poker room while grubby and I played at the same table along with Rooster and donkeypuncher. He brought along an obvious hooker that he introduced around and offered to stake $100 to play. She declined and then left, but Doug didn't believe she was a working girl. At the next morning, he recalled she wanted him to buy her a water at the gift store, to which he obliged At the cashier, she threw in some condoms, saying, "We're going to need these." Who cares? It's Vegas!

The last Harrah's

2008-12-21T20:26:00.002-05:00

Since last posting, I left Vegas, returned for the blogger tourney, and as of Friday am back again. Even my gambling friends said I was insane.

I'm dumping all my comps and stiffing casinos for the last 2 weeks of the year, booking hotel rooms, freeplay, free food, and slot tournaments at 12 different hotel-casinos.

My New Year's resolution is to rid myself of these offers, which get me to visit Las Vegas far more than I should. From Nov. 16 to Jan. 3, I'll have been in Vegas a whopping 30 days. That's too much, even for me, and even for free.

It's sort of like when a girl came on Maury Povich with her fear of pickles and Maury tried to dump pickles on her to cure her phobia.

This trip is my pickles.

First on the target list is what's become my favorite hotel -- The Venetian/Palazzo. At The Venetian over the blogger tourney, I was told I was overcomped for my 3 nights, $100 freeplay, and $50 food. Overcomped means I won't get anything more above those offers, and I'm less likely to get the same offer in the future.

But here's what overcomped also means: last weekend at The Venetian, I lost $2130 (plus $135 if you count the blogger tourney that I didn't cash in) over 6 hours of play. That's just at Venetian, excluding losses elsewhere.

Like the majority of casinos, Venetian doesn't take into account actual losses, they calculate Average Daily Theoretical. This was made popular by Harrah's, which even holds a patent on how to calculate player comps (Harrah's lost the battle of protecting their tiered system, which is why many casinos now offer Total Rewards-like tiers).

Whether you win or lose, you receive comps based on average bet and time played. Longer is always better. My average bet last weekend was $1.71 per pull. At about 12 spins per minute, that's 720 spins per hour, or $1231.20 of coin-in per hour.

For 6 hours, that's $7387.20 of playthrough.

Figuring a 10 percent hold on penny slots (from the back pages of Slots Today), I'm expected to lose $738.72. What I lost is more indicative of a 29 percent hold, but way too small a sample. And besides, Nevada's maximum hold percentage on a slot machine is 25 percent. I was just unlucky.

That I lost three times that amount doesn't come into play when calculating comps. There used to be a time when you could scrounge some sympathy out of a pitboss or host for a food comp, but as things become more and more computerized (or Harrah's-ized), even they have lost authority.

If I were to win big, however, all bets are off and I would see even better offers to lure me back and return some of my winnings.

It doesn't make much sense to me that casinos make this the exception, yet they don't see the player who loses $2000 per trip every trip, even if they don't make their ADT.

Why not continue to comp that player?

Last weekend, my host at Venetian said I needed another 6 hours of play at my average bet before I could start asking for any additional comps, which means Venetian wants players to play enough to an average loss of $500 per day for a free room ($1477.44 / 3 days).

This is roughly equivalent to a $1 average bet for 8 hours per day of play (about $5760 coin-in/day) in order to get a free room, confirmed by another host.

This trip, I'm again overcomped.

My playthrough was $17,232 at a higher $1.89 average bet over 14 hours (I won't say how much I lost, but you can probably figure it out).

But it also includes entry into a $50,000 slot tournament and $50,000 sweepstakes tournament, the EV of which is about $333 for both.

My intention was to stiff the casinos, but the sweepstakes tourney was enough to get me to play -- 1 entry for every 100 points.

We'll see if it pays off. With 172 sweepstakes entries, I had better win something. I bombed in the slot tournament with a big fat zero, so all my eggs are in the sweepstakes.

The person at the player's club said I had the most amount of entries she'd seen so far, with the next highest being 112.

With 300 players and cash awards to 100th place, I figure I have a better than 1 in 3 shot at hitting something. 1st place is $20,000, 2nd is $10,000 and 3rd is $5000. 51st through 100th get $50 in slot credits.

I'm writing this with an hour to go before the awards reception.

If I get nothing, the Venetian/Palazzo will soon see what hath the wrath of my bad luck.

A Thanksgiving story

2008-11-26T17:36:00.003-05:00

After all the news coverage about the busiest travel season in Vegas, there were no lines at all -- rental car shuttle, baggage check-in, security, tram... and now I'm at the gate with 3 hours to kill.

Luckily, McCarran has free WiFi, and I multi-tabled seven tournaments and netted $54.

One was a 3-table tourney and when 5-handed I cursed a little loudly when my A10 on the button ran into AA in the big blind. And it figures that we were both the big chipstacks. He went on to win, and I went on to close Full Tilt.

Very glad to be leaving. Ten days in Vegas is way too long. I had my biggest slot wins (relative to bet size) this trip, but on the other hand, I gave it all back and lost more than I want to admit.

I overstuffed myself on more than one occasion, which caused an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom.

Besides buffets and starchy foods, the food theme this trip was Asian noodle soup.

Palazzo has Zine, which is mediocre made worse with too many scallions. Upstairs in the Palazzo shops is Mainland, which opened earlier this year but was closed while I was there.

Harrah's has Ming's Table, which is overpriced but excellent and has a $14.95 spring roll/soup/rice/entree combo (also a $19.95 all-you-can-eat soup and sushi deal, but from selected sushi). I was staying in the Mardi Gras tower and Ming's is right next to it, plus I can use my comps there.

But my favorite noodle place is Noodle Asia at The Venetian, which has the added benefit of being open till 3 a.m. Every trip I work my way through the menu and have yet to find anything I don't like. It's modeled on the late night Hong Kong noodle shops with fast service and big crowds, but you can always cut through and sit at the bar.

The morning after a particularly big late-night soupy dinner, I stepped out of the shower, farted, then went to the bathroom.

At The Venetian, the bathroom is in a closed area, and when I came out, there was something brown on the white shag rug. It looked like a little dog had visited and left a present.

I hadn't farted, I'd sharted. And there was the evidence on the rug.

I pulled out a bunch of tissues and tried wiping it off but only made it worse. Dab it, don't wipe it, was the mantra I'd forgotten when my dog made similar messes on the rug.

I used all the tissues and shifted to toilet paper, dabbing disintegrating strips of toilet paper soaked with soapy water in an effort to hide my soupy shame.

Finally I was left with specks of toilet paper and a faded dried brown stain that I could claim was like that when I got there.

The Do Not Disturb sign stayed on the door the whole trip until I left, where I piled the dirty towels on top of the soiled rug, hoping they would just collect everything together and put it in the laundry.

I left a decent tip.

To hell and back with Big Event

2008-11-25T16:37:00.002-05:00

This morning I sat in the Venetian food court eating a $7 bacon and egg sandwich (on Kaiser), mentally preparing myself for the $15,000 freeroll.

Only 200 players and payouts to the first 20. First place: $5000. 20th place: $150 in slot credits.

I was going to play tight and play small pots, watching for players who weren't familiar with playing poker, at least live in a casino.

And I would stay the hell away from them.

My table began with four people. One player bet out of turn, folded when checked to, and counted on his fingers, It was safe to say he was new.

My first played hand is AK, which I raise 5x hoping to just get the blinds. Two callers, including Fingers.

A-K-6 on the flop.

I bet half the pot. Fingers pushes, the other player folds, and I call.

He shows A2 and winces when he sees my hand.

2 on the turn, 2 on the river.

Fortunately he didn't knock me out, having played a J2 against someone else's AJ in the prior hand.

No, I would be knocked out a round later when I raise with KK and he calls.

Flop is K-9-3.

He checks, I bet, he calls.

Turn is A.

Fingers bets minimum, I raise, he calls.

River is 10 and he goes all-in.

I call to see his runnered straight.

It's only half an hour into the tournament and I feel woozy, thinking I should throw all my support at the UIGEA because obviously poker is nothing but luck.

At least I have my Fiji bottled water. That's the Venetian -- all class.

I try to calm myself down at Press Your Luck -- Australian Gold.

Forty minutes later I'm down $600 on $2.25 a spin and holding a worthless 15x multiplier. Not a single Big Event nor bonus within that time.

Venetian hides points accumulated, so I don't know playthrough, but it couldn't have been much.

While I was playing, a woman next to me hit the bonus three times. All while betting a penny per spin (she inserted a dollar).

And she had the nerve to play off her player's card. I wonder what kind of comps she gets with her $1 loss per day.

I was this close to throwing my empty Fiji bottle at her fat hands.

She went down to her last penny and left, and another woman took her place. She begins talking, asking how to play.

And then Big Event hits. No better explanation than to experience the bonus firsthand.

Smash a Whammy with the question mark that incremented to 75 credits.

75 x 15 = $11.25.

Then I hit the bonus.

The first kangaroo I picked was 1050 credits. Every gold nugget that had a credit value would now have 1050 credits added. I went on a run of picking and ended the bonus with $182.

Then Big Event triggered for the Free Spins.

The number of free spins began cycling and I said it was up to the woman to press the button.

She did at 9 free spins, I said that was really good. She said it could've been 20. I said it could've been 3.

First spin gives 2000 credits, and I'm cruising from that point on.

Next spin triggers Trip of a Lifetime.

If Trip of a Lifetime lands on Hawaii, it would've been a bit over $100 (times my multiplier, which would've given a W2). Both of us were yelling, "Hawaii!"

It landed on Paris, the low value at $3.93. We both muttered, "Fuckin' Paris." But still, 393 credits isn't bad at all.

At the end of the spins, the final win was about 2500, or $375 with my 15x.

I was happy being almost even, let my time count down, then cashed out.

Now I'll really try to just play poker the rest of the trip.

3 trips in 1

2008-11-24T18:47:00.003-05:00

6359.

That was my dismal slot tournament score just a few minutes ago.

The top 100 players receive at least $100 and with the small turnout of 300, I had a pretty solid 1 in 3 chance. In these days of economic downturns, I'm experiencing a heavy gambling downturn, and I don't even root for first anymore.

Machine 5 was mine, and I watched the guy in the previous session drive it to 9863, a decent showing that will get him in the money but not the 10,000+ needed for a top placing, which is $7500 for first.

Even though the random number generator ensures every spin is completely random and independent of each other (and these tournament machines are souped up to over 100 percent payback), my own superstition has me preferring to sit at a machine with a lower score.

Not only didn't I get the Blazing 777s, I didn't beat the old guy next to me who waited a couple seconds between each spin and even pulled the handle (in slot tourneys, you want to hit the button as fast as possible, there's no time to waste like handle pulls).

With an average of about 8000, my score of 6359 is a contender for the bottom 20.

And as of right now, that caps what's been a pretty solidly losing gambling trip despite a couple exceptions: winning $1000 on a 50 cent bet and winning $600 on a $1 bet. Both those wins are long gone.

To me, like blackjack, breaking even in Vegas is a win. I think I've only ever done that once.

This Vegas trip has been divided into three separate trips – work, Harrah's, and Venetian.

The work part began down and then almost back to even when a 50 cent bet won the grand progressive of a bit over $1000 on Scorchin' Fortune (at Four Queens downtown). If you're in my Facebook, I posted a photo.

The Hyperlink progressive came up randomly and I hit all five buttons to land on cars, which gives the best shot at the top. Number values are revealed on each car, then added. Whichever range that number lands in wins that progressive.

Money escaped easily the next couple nights at Spearmint Rhino and craps, blackjack, and more slots. $700 went to the strip club, where it was more wisely spent.

After work was done, I was done with gambling if not for the pesky ATM and bank and credit card.

And I realized the reason I rent a car every trip is so I can drive to my bank.

The Harrah's part of the trip began with a freeroll $60,000 poker tournament.

I had to register at 9 a.m. and pretty much stayed up all night (final night of the work trip) to get there on time.

About 600 players, with one Harrah's employee playing at each table. Knock out that person, receive a $250 bounty and the red target t-shirt they're wearing.

The fun thing about these poker invitationals is that most don't play poker. After all, playing poker doesn't get you free rooms and invites to free tournaments.

These were all slot players who hold to the concept of luck.

And that was my mistake, because there's no such thing as making a bet too expensive to draw, because they're ready and waiting to call an all-in. It was like the good ol' days of PartyPoker.

I should've been more patient, because it was in shootout form, where two people from each table move on to the next round, essentially creating a 120-man tourney where the top 10 cash.

Instead, I busted at about 4th.

I'd intended to stiff Harrah's with no play because I'll be losing my Diamond status next year and Harrah's perks have dropped across the board anyway. I only see them dropping further because the private equity firm that now owns them had a big investment in Washington Mutual. At 3100 tier points to go, I figured $15,500 playthrough was beyond me and I'd spend the whole time playing poker.

My intentions began in earnest at the 2 p.m. poker tourney at Planet Hollywood. Problem was, a player's card is needed in order to get 500 extra chips, and the player's club line was out the door.

I went searching for someone's abandoned player's card at one of the machines. In a fit of rage I've been known to fold over my card until it creases and tears apart. Surely others are like me. Often I'll see orphaned cards laying around anyway. But not Planet Hollywood – they run a clean ship.

During my search, I did find a ticket left in a machine for $2, which I parlayed on Viking Legend to win $600 on a $1 bet.

Walked to Caesars Palace for their 7 p.m. tourney, which I lasted for 6.5 hours before getting out in 15th.

$160 buy-in, 10,000 chips, 133 players, top 9 paid. First place was $6600.

I don't question my all-in move on the button with J10o; I was 5x blinds, antes were T400, and I was going for fold equity so no matter the cards I was going in. But I think I might've been able to talk my way out of the big blind from finally deciding to call off a quarter of his chips with A3o.

Because I've become too used to online, one thing I don't do is player psychology, talking to players to get a read or getting them to fold or call.

Dealers and players said the noon tourney had Brad Garrett from "Everybody Loves Raymond" and I remember seeing the final table 4-handed with a tall skinny guy dominating, but he didn't look at all like Brad Garrett.

I was disappointed at not cashing and played away misery in slots at Caesars Palace until 4 a.m., running out of money just shy of the 11,000 tier points required this year for Diamond. I was doing okay up until the 9500 point mark, where I lost $1300 in just $2500 playthrough.

I have just 500 points to go but will save that for the next trip.

Trip #3 began yesterday with my check-in to Venetian, and it's been all slots so far and bad runs on eBay, Star Wars, Whales of Cash, Hot Hot Penny, Press Your Luck, Quick Hit, and The Sopranos.

I have yet to ever see the bonus in Whales of Cash, dumping $300 in that game alone. Same with Star Wars, I can't get to the next Death Star round.

I took my remaining $600 and dumped it all in L'il Lucy at the max of $6 a pull. If Lucy would've appeared, I would've been poised to getting that elusive W-2G, but she didn't show and it just wasn't meant to be.

And now I'm really done with slots. At least for this trip.

Tomorrow is the Venetian invitational poker tournament and on the flier they list all the poker rules as well as hand rankings. More slot players playing poker, this time I'll be more patient.

Also on the flier is a list of prizes for the top 10. I need to make second just to break even.

Girl on Girl Head's Upby grubette

2008-11-20T06:35:00.000-05:00

Recently I was in Long Beach, California sitting in an arena full of 14,000+ women watching Arnold Schwarzenegger and Warren Buffet being interviewed by Chris Matthews of Hardball.

Shocking isn't it? I mean 14,000 women in once place? This annual conference grows larger and more prestigious each year, partly because of the drawing power of California's first lady Maria Shiver and partly because women truly like to congregate and chat. You'd think there would be more lesbians in the world since no one understands women like other women.

I met Dr. Oz, who has a couple of Bacon degrees of separation from mamagrub (her nephew and Dr. Oz are tight). I got a book signed for mamagrub's Xmas gift. The Oz family all gave speeches on health and happiness and 21-year-old daughter Oz is definitely poised for the media spotlight.

A couple days later, I'm on a plane to exciting Vegas, which never loses its luster for me.

Picked up by Sammy, we head off to the Flamingo for a debacle of a check-in (or non check-in). Harrah's finally picked up on registrations using "companions" and no longer honors companion check-ins without the (go figure) companion actually being present. A chat with the manager did nothing to help with the situation, so we ended up checking in Sammy at the Rio and kicking out one of his friends from Bill's Gamblin' Hall, where grubby had an extra room.

Met up with Toast, a Virginia transplant now living and thriving in Vegas, at the former Tilted Kilt, slammed a few beers and caught up on old times. Somehow Toast ended up in a Dorian Gray novel, having not aged a bit from the Vegas dry air, cigar smoking or heavy Guinness drinking. As proof, Doug produced a decade-old picture of Toast wearing a t-shirt in Dewey Beach, Delaware that said, "Free Pony Rides," with an arrow pointing down.

Oddly, Toast's past five years somewhat mirrored grubby's, including 18 months of a "Summer of George" professional poker career and capping off with "getting a real job."

I bought all these club passes on eBay, including one for a limo ride, free cover and a free drink to Sapphire. I gathered up my boys and called the club, who sent the first-I've-ever-seen woman limo driver, who circled around the Rio searching for five girls, rather than a bunch of guys with one girl. Tipping her $40 to offset the freeness of everything else, we walked into to the warehouse of Sapphire, were VIP seated and immediately approached by super hot women. Oh sure strip clubs are supposed to contain super hot women, but when you have low expectations, it's a pleasant surprise. Also a pleasant surprise, going into the ladies room filled with half-dressed beautiful women.

On the table where we were seated (other than our $12 beers) were several passes that I had just purchased off ebay. Turns out no passes are necessary to secure the VIP treatment we received.

After a couple of lap dances and a single round of drinks, we were off in a free shuttle to Gold Coast, where we met up with grubs and played some craps. 5.30am, but before the sun rose, we made our way back to Bill's Gamblin' Hall, stumbling in Room 101 and happily finding a huge suite! Thanks grubs!

The next night, Doug and I saw the Red Piano Elton John show which was solidly entertaining and was filled with inflatable props and celebrity-packed mini-movies, like this one of Pamela Anderson.

I normally fall asleep at these sorts of events, including Cirque du Soleil, Phantom of the Opera, most meetings and seminars, hockey games, and even Rush and Van Halen, but this show absolutely kept my attention. Thanks grubs!

Grubs, Doug and I iced it up at Minus 5, checking out Mandalay's newest ice bar (like they need more than one). The ice bunnies were cute, the drinks were delicious, but the bar itself, eh. We had a longer time getting dressed and instructional videoed than we did in the actual bar.

Somehow I ended up drunk and back at Bill's, where I somehow lost a boatload on Pai Gow, all from drinking beer in a glass.

Because of the Flamingo problem, we had to check out of Bill's and into the Palms, which is nothing to complain about for sure (Aveda products in the bathroom!).

Toast recommended a Caesar's poker tournament, while Doug hung out at the Britney Spears pool. After arriving at Caesar's, not only did I find out the daily tournaments were canceled for the Caesar's Classic, but also no "limit" games were going on either.

I headed to Harrah's, where Toast and grubs met up with me to play the $60, one re-buy tournament. Firstly, I don't play no-limit, secondly, I don't like rebuying, but with a $10 bounty per person and 66 people playing, it was worth at least checking out.

Toast was at my table in seat 9 while I was in seat 3. Early on I got some good hands and faked a few, including one against Toast. At the break, he said the guys at the other end of the table were talking about how aggressive I was playing. As a limit player, action is king and most hands look good. So my style could certainly be mistaken for aggression, but honestly I was getting some great opening cards and lucky flops.

Toast and grubby were out after two or so hours, and I continued on, raking up six bounties (no rebuy) to pay back my buy-in and hoping for 6th place (they paid to 8).

The final table came quickly and so did the fear of bubbling. But with the bounties, it made that possibility easier to take. There were a couple old guys at the end playing super tight, a loudmouth guy who bitched about other players telling a potential caller what a certain place paid, me, and Brenda.

I told our dealer it'd be cool for a girl-girl head's up, but that I was shooting for 6th and that I don't chop.

My feeling of being solid was my J-8s against tight guy's AK, who went all in. I counted my chips before calling, knowing I could cover Brenda, the only other player left. I got a flush and a straight and had a commanding chip stack lead over Brenda.

Girl-girl head's up!

Now I started thinking of my last head's up encounter with a girl, Mrs. Spaceman, who solidly beat my ass while I was holding an ass at the Orleans WPBT one year. I didn't have to think too long, because the first hand, my Q-9 against her Q-6, held up and I was the easy winner after 5 hours.

My first poker tournament win! Toast says you never forget your first one. $1462 to me and the bounties went to the dealer. Toast, grubs and Doug were there to cheer for me but I rushed to the bathroom, where I saw and heard Brenda talking on the phone about my "huge chipstack" and that there was no way she could have won. Head's up though, you never know.

We celebrated first in the room of the Palms, raiding the mini-bar, then at Rojo, a dead bar at Palms Place where we were the only people in it. I've won more at jackpots, but this was a true win because I felt like I put in the time and earned. Of course Toast said any lucky, unskilled player could win a tournament, but I just chalked it up to jealousy.

And for the next and final day, we met up with our stripper-looking realtor and closed on a condo in Vegas. So, if anyone out there is interested in a rental in the Lakes area, let me know!

More hogs than honeys

2008-11-16T03:55:00.003-05:00

I'm not staying up late on purpose, I'm staying up late because when I went to do laundry, both washers only hummed when I inserted my four quarters each.

The water's out but there was no notice, and a crew is outside cursing at each other, so they must be working on it or stalling for overtime.

But meanwhile I have nothing to wear in Vegas, and my clothes are covered in liquid Tide.

If the water doesn't restore soon (it's 3:15 a.m. now), I'll throw the clothes in the bathtub and hope that 2 weeks of dried Tide won't do too much damage to cotton.

I have an early flight, but no water means no shower. And being Saturday, that's one bonus day that I didn't shower. To my seatmate on the plane: you've been warned.
***
Last week some friends and I used a cheat code to unlock all the songs on Rock Band, then headed to Hogs & Honeys, which features a mechanical bull.

When grubette was in town, a bachelorette party had each girl enjoy the bull. The guy at the controls preyed on the riders' weaknesses (after the consent form was signed, of course). If he saw the girl self-consciously pull down her shirt over her jeans, for example, the bull would magically move to make that shirt ride up.

One girl's boob continually popped out, and I missed it each time.

And if you wear a mini-skirt when you get on the bull, I claim you're a closet exhibitionist.

grubette snapped a photo of some of the girls dancing on the bar:

My return to Hogs & Honeys wasn't as wild but still fun, albeit with more hogs than honeys. That is, way too many dudes wanting to ride the bull.

A couple girls made up for it by dancing on the bar. The girl in the mini-skirt is one of the bartenders. Girl bartender: I heart you.

And here's a YouTube video of a girl who got up and pole-danced to Britney Spears. She said that she'd never danced on a pole before and has never been a stripper.

I guess some people are just naturally talented.

Heads-up rant

2008-10-16T23:55:00.000-04:00

It isn't my regular game, but sometimes if I'm craving quick action and I'm at my monthly limit in depositing for blackjack, I like to sit in heads-up limit for awhile. The cards don't really matter, and it's a challenge identifying, matching, and exploiting my opponents' style.

I was quickly down two buy-ins to some of the same beats that I was later accused of.

I rarely chat, but I do enjoy a good Hellmuth rant.

This was while he was winning:

elplayer: omg
elplayer: chasing 4 outers and hitting
elplayer: np wonder u keep losing
elplayer: still bad
elplayer: 5-10
elplayer: omg
elplayer: u r so bad
elplayer: calls with a 6-8 off
elplayer: and then su ck s out

He then sits out and commands in chat, "reload."

I felt I had a sense for how he played (reraising or 3betting the flop, folding to a turn raise) that I wanted another chance.

The tough opponents are the ones who constantly modify their game to how you're playing. This guy consistently played the same way.

Plus I wanted to hear more ranting.

I rebought for five buy-ins and went to town, winning back my original two buy-ins plus some.

Here's the rest of the chat. Or rather, his chat. I said all of four words.

Warning, it's unexpurgated and language may offend.

elplayer: reload
elplayer: didnt have to be that much
elplayer: but ty
elplayer: u call a flop with nothing to; chase a rr

grubby: well i'm drunk

elplayer: wow big s u cking out
elplayer: never seen such horrible play get rewarded so much
elplayer: what a whore
elplayer: chasing with sht again and hits
elplayer: unreal
elplayer: u r a s uc k a ss
elplayer: god u r so bad
elplayer: su cked out again
elplayer: now 2 outers
elplayer: r u su cking this dealers d ic
elplayer: u just keep on su cking
elplayer: i think it should be su ck aholic
elplayer: call with sht and chase so bad
elplayer: do u chase your fist up your a s s hole too
elplayer: u chase and call it all
elplayer: 3 outer
elplayer: had u and again u s uck out
elplayer: u gotta bb kidding
elplayer: # # %@ing %$@!
elplayer: s uck that c oc
elplayer: back to co c su ck;ing
elplayer: yep
elplayer: do u swallow
elplayer: yep u must
elplayer: alll of it
elplayer: i think u r the site whore for the dealers
elplayer: the sht u play and hit is so ridiculous
elplayer: omg
elplayer: swallow it fish
elplayer: so bad
elplayer: only the site whore gets that lucky
elplayer: now we r going to slow play
elplayer: su cked out on the river again
elplayer: u must be a good c oc su cker
elplayer: cause this ja ck a ss has taken care of u
elplayer: seee fu dealer
elplayer: f u too whore
elplayer: go chase your fist up your hole and then s uck it
elplayer: like u always do
elplayer: whore
elplayer: whore

grubby: rebuy

elplayer: whore
elplayer: fu and tilt
elplayer: hey tilt s uck my c oc
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: he dealer fu
elplayer: ! @$# you
elplayer: this is by far the biggest fixed site so @ !@$ all of u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f u
elplayer: f fu
elplayer: fffffffffffff uuuuuuuuuuuuu ccccccccccccccc
uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu tilt
elplayer: su ck my co k tilt
elplayer: fu

Cherry Coke, hold the cherry

2008-10-14T23:55:00.000-04:00

Went drinking with some friends tonight at my neighborhood bar and ordered my regular girlie drink there -- a Cherry Coke (Coke with cherry-flavored vodka -- my favorite is Three Olives but this place uses the cheaper UV brand).

Drank a second one.

Another friend also drank two.

When the bill came, it listed the other drinks and "2 Coke: $4."

Score! The server liked us and gave us a discount. No matter, we each put in $10.

But could it be we possibly had regular Cokes and no charge for the refill?

I tried to determine if I had any kind of buzz. When it comes to Cherry Cokes, I can't taste the vodka anyway.

We called over the server and discovered that we were indeed drinking virgin Cherry Cokes.

She didn't like us after all.

While one friend was getting drunker by the second, we were stone cold sober on a kids' drink.

Normally when ordering, they ask if I want it with alcohol. What should I ask for to make sure it's cherry vodka?

She said, "Classic Cherry Coke."

***
Came home and fired up Full Tilt to check out the new Matrix sit-n-gos that they introduced today.

Of all games, I do the best on SnGs. I do the worst on everything else, including the Super Turbos. Wish I could self-ban myself from all other games, because 8/16 6max and Super Turbos are my Full Tilt blackjack.

The concept of the Matrix is simple -- for the normal buy-in of one SnG, you play four simultaneously with the same players. Each player is randomly seated in each.

There are awards for the top 3 in each, with a separate award for the top 3 point earners. Think of it like five games with 1st-3rd payouts: four tables and one point match.

Points are earned by knocking out someone (1 point), outlasting someone (1 point), and finishing 1st (2 points).

I began with a $330+20 (pro player John D'Agostino was also playing), and placed 3rd ($118.80) in two and nothing in the point match. This got me $237.60, not enough to get my buy-in back.

Dropped down to a $110+9 and placed 1st in two, 3rd in another, and 1st in the point match:

There's different strategy here, in that you're playing the bubble in your individual four games while also playing the player. You can not only play opponents based on how they're playing on other tables (player notes are vital -- too bad the Matrix didn't come with color coding for each player so I can see each at a glance without looking for their names), but you can also play based on where they stand in overall points.

When I finished, one table remained that was heads-up. If the chipleader won, he would've added 4 points (1 for knockout, 1 for outlasting, 2 for 1st place) that would've tied with me. I was of course rooting for a suckout, which happened. Twice.

The most interesting aspect of the games is the tournament lobby, which shows your status in each game and overall points, including the maximum points you can earn as well as a projected score.

I don't know how this projected score is calculated, but it's seemingly based not just on remaining players but is relative to chipstacks. This would be an interesting statistic added to regular SnGs.

The Matrix games are fun and hats off to Full Tilt for innovating a new concept, but I think any good SnG player will stick to the regular single tables.

Though I placed 1st on two tables and 1st in the point match, it was only good for $336.60. If I placed 1st in all matches (by placing 1st in the games, I'd have a +8 point advantage in the point match anyway), I would win $495, which is the same award for winning a one-table $110+9 SnG.

So definitely a low variance game with more players getting around their money back.

The problem I think is that if players are good enough to win an SnG in Matrix format, they're good enough to win multi-tabling regular SnGs. And it's easy to see which is more profitable.

For grinding, I'll stick to regular SnGs. But I might play a Matrix game to kill time.

And if I were drunk on virgin Cherry Cokes.

A gambling adventure

2008-10-12T23:55:00.000-04:00

IM received: "thinking about going to casino this weekend"

That's really all the enablement I needed to blow off a play I already paid for, borrow money, and plunge into slotland spanning two blue states.

I responded with an affirmative after checking out a poker tournament that we'd be in time for.

IM received: "get ready for a casino gambling adventure"

A friend and I braved Chicago-to-Michigan weekend rush hour and, realizing we'd be late for the poker tourney, made a detour to Blue Chip casino in Indiana, owned by Boyd Gaming.

Picked up a new 'B' player's card and consolidated Vegas play (Fremont, Sam's Town, The Orleans... other Boyd properties where I've played weren't listed). Had to pick a home casino, so went with Fremont in downtown Vegas, though I never play there except when I'm meeting up with mamagrub.

Did a syndicate $100 each on the new Rawhide 5-reel mechanical slots. Familiar with the video version of Rawhide, I first played the stepper reels in August at Sam's Town and swear that the game was different -- for one, the bonus seemed easier to get into. For another, you could also get into the bonus by getting 5 top award symbols.

Because of different regulators around the country, a slot manufacturer would prefer to follow the rules of all of them to not have to create different versions of games for different markets. I'm thinking Konami must have changed the game specifically for Las Vegas. Same look, slightly different math.

Lasted awhile until busto, then went to the new Fire Island 5-reel mechanical slots. I'm still more a fan of video slots, but mech games are getting better. In Fire Island, you trigger the bonus with 5 or more symbols, which awards at least one random pick of a credit value. Then during free spins, every time that symbol appears, you receive those credits picked. I hit 8 symbols and the wheel picked 3 credit values. Unfortunately they were low values. But oh the potential.

Moved to trusty Mr. Cashman -- Jail Bird. Being nickel denom, it cost 5 times as much. And seemingly, my horrid run had Mr. Cashman 5 times less likely to appear.

Jackpot Stampede Deluxe was a fun 3-reel mechanical progressive, even if I didn't win. Betting max, I was guaranteed to win one of the progressives in free spins. An unlimited amount of spins and any time a colored cow appeared on the reels, I was that much closer to winning that color progressive.

A woman next to me said, "Hey you won $100." I didn't tell her that that was the credit meter, and I had started with $100.

Then played King of the Wild, a game where paylines wrap-around, able to begin on any of the 5 reels instead of just reel 1. This was the only game I won on (or the only one I had the sense to cash out), being up $15.

I didn't step foot into the poker room, but it looks like Oct. 15 begins their wheel, which can be spun on any 4-of-a-kind or better. The concept was lifted from Excalibur, which around the slow time in December would also offer up two spins on the wheel. Half the fun of the Excal was this wheel, which is now gone because they went all e-tables.

My friend paid for the dinner buffet, which I rated a 4, earning +1 for having good bread pudding and a chocolate fountain for fondue.

He asked me what I'd rate a 10 -- I said Wynn Las Vegas. Bellagio? 9. Then I threw in my fondness for Sunset Station, coming in at an 8 because of price, serving stations, and international dishes they'd change daily. And also because it was close to my apartment and I could cut to the front of the line with my player's card.

Sunset Station's buffet had a serving station with chicken picatta. Blue Chip had a serving station of a gourmet salad. To get things like gourmet lettuce and gourmet tomatoes and gourmet croutons, you had to ask them to prepare it.

This led to chat about buffets in general, then to Mandalay Bay.

When I lived in Vegas, I went to Mandalay often. Whether for poker or for work at the radio station, I was there at least four times a week. I know these casinos inside and out, and running through Mandalay in my mind, I couldn't place a buffet.

Not all Vegas casinos have buffets. The Venetian and The Palazzo don't.

MGM Mirage owns Mandalay Bay and also owns New York New York, which doesn't have a buffet. So there's precedent at an MGM property.

I felt reasonably confident, except that I rarely went down the corridor toward the Shark Reef.

We made a $10 bet.

The first Google search on my iPhone said "Best Las Vegas Buffet -- Mandalay Bay." It even had a name -- Bayside Buffet.

My buffet IQ was rattled, and the $10 owed would later grow into much more.

Next stop was Four Winds casino in New Buffalo, Michigan.

Played a bunch of games and lost. As much as I lost, my friend lost more. But that'll happen, as even I'm not crazy enough to play Gusher at $30 per spin.

On my last $200, I said I'd be at the poker room trying to win my money back.

I never made it, stopping at Hot Hot Penny -- Star of India. Normally I do well on this game, but $100 went quick when at nickel denom it's actually Hot Hot Nickel.

I was then entranced by the Happy Days slots.

Happy Days has a free spin progressive, where at random times you win a number of free spins instead of a progressive value. The Diamond level was at 84 spins and the Platinum level was at 47 spins. Both were the highest I'd ever seen. Like Big Event, the game has a multiplier for the more you play and the faster you play.

I first played Happy Days at The Palms, and had a miserable experience. Of all the games I've ever played, it's the one I lost the most in the least amount of time. $800 in 20 minutes.

I figured EV was higher than The Palms if I could get into the free spins at Diamond or Platinum with a huge multiplier.

Other players must've thought the same thing, as they weren't budging from their seats. And there were players waiting to play. Some company should come up with a catheter on a gaming device, to prevent wet seats.

I sat down at a video poker machine, getting in the queue for some Happy Days play.

My friend arrived looking defeated. Gusher had crushed him, and he sat at Count Money for a few spins. He got into the bonus, then picked two Garlic symbols to end the bonus with just a 1x consolation win. His luck was worse than mine.

Then he hit the bonus again, and this time kept picking credits. By the time he Garliced out, he hit a W-2G for a bit above $1200. If he hadn't made that last pick, he would've had less than $1200 (and hence no IRS paperwork).

A crowd gathered to congratulate him, and he brushed them off. When you're down and $1200 doesn't put you back to even, the last thing you want is people touching you for luck.

The Four Winds crew was fast in arriving to take down his information. When they came back to pay him out, he had hit another jackpot on Count Money, this time with the Mystery Wild feature that throws out a random number of Wild symbols. He hit multiple top awards in one spin for $2800.

They paid him for his first jackpot and said they'd be back. Could he win another jackpot within that time?

He did. He switched to video poker and hit quad 5s that paid out $2500.

Now there was a spot on Happy Days. Knowing I was waiting, a woman motioned me over before cashing out so I could take her seat.

This was a nice gesture, and I made a mental note to give her $20 if I hit the Diamond.

I began banging away, driving up my multiplier to 56x.

Hit the Gold progressive for 17 spins at 56x, which paid $300.

The casino had removed the top button, so I couldn't play the maximum. But for some reason, I could get around this by pressing the Max Bet button on the screen. This is probably how the Cambodians were playing Indiana Jones -- they can't play minimum from the mechanical buttons, but they can switch to a minimum bet via the screen. Sneaky Cambodians.

I was soon up to 70x and every time I was near to busting out, I borrowed another $100 from my friend.

The Diamond was now up to 99 spins. 99 spins at 70x. If I could hit this, all the ducks were lined up to collect my first W-2G.

It was hard keeping the multiplier at a steady 70x without it dropping down. I had to constantly slap the buttons like a slot tournament.

Then I heard, "grub, I just hit for $40,000."

I looked over and I saw my friend at the video poker machine I was sitting at while waiting for a spot at Happy Days. It was the machine next to the one where he had just won $2500.

He looked like he was in shock.

My multiplier dropped to 60x.

He came over, high-fived, and he ran his fingers through his hair, looking incredulous. Almost every time I've been to a casino with him, he's won a W-2G-worthy jackpot, but I'd never seen him this excited.

I was torn, wanting to go over to look at his machine and congratulate him, but at the same time the Happy Days progressive felt so close to triggering.

He later said that's what he would remember of the evening, of him hitting a royal flush for $40,000 and me not being bothered to come over because I was too focused on Happy Days.

But hey, Happy Days isn't your normal slot machine where you can just walk away. You have to keep up your multiplier and you're in competition with other players, because they could hit it at any time too.

He gave me a free $100, which as lucky money goes, I played through on Happy Days until I busted, then went over to his machine to take some photos. The largest win I've seen was a woman hitting a progressive at Excalibur for over $2 million, then a guy in the Luxor high-limit area hitting for thousands of dollars per spin (although he was betting as much too, with a woman next to him who dutifully marked down each time it was over $1199 for tax purposes). But this was the largest win from someone I know.

This time, he didn't mind people coming up to him to shake his hand and touch him for luck and tell him other winning stories. A host arrived and asked if there was anything she could get us like a room (because they didn't want all of the money leaving the casino). If only it weren't 2 a.m., we could've enjoyed a nice free steak dinner. But certainly he'll be getting future offers.

He avoided a big check with photo for their wall, but smartly asked for a regular check so he wouldn't be tempted into blowing a chunk of it on other games.

And then he sat at my Happy Days machine, with his multiplier also at the top 70x.

I thought if anyone could hit the Diamond, he could. But the game defeated both of us.

Diamond was at 103 spins when we left.

When leaving Blue Chip, I picked up a 4-pack of Vitamin Water, which was the promotion for signing up to the casino. They were the small 12 oz. ones and were all Power-C Dragonfruit flavored.

Tallying my losses at Blue Chip and Four Winds, as well as the $10 bet on the Mandalay Bay buffet, each bottle cost me $392.50 (not counting the play I blew off).

Kind of a high price to pay for a gambling adventure, but I'm glad I was there to see my friend's biggest win.

Alley girls

2008-10-05T11:51:00.000-04:00

Went to a function on Friday at the very swanky River East Arts Center in downtown Chicago.

When I drink, I tend to not take any photos for some reason, so these are all from their website, which does the place justice.

An open bar resulted in a few embarrassing photos of me on the dance floor (grubby don't dance), tapping out a friend dancing with his wife so I could dance with him, accidentally dropping an after-dinner ice cream scoop on the floor, and trying to leave the premises with a centerpiece or two.

(And let me say, I've never seen servers walk around with dessert hors d'hoeuvres after the sit-down dinner -- I hope it's a trend, maybe similar to the tomato bisque they served in a small glass with a handle that looked like salad dressing -- do I spoon? do I drink? do I pour on the salad?)

I was, however, successful in exiting with a glass containing Captain & Coke. Hitched a ride home with a friend whose girlfriend was passed out in the back.

Heading toward the highway, I called out, "Girls in the alley!"

"Girls kissing?" he said.

Made a u-turn and spotted two smoking blondes who were also literally smoking.

We pulled into the alley.

I rolled down my window and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Excuse me, do you know how to get to Evanston?"

(In retrospect, a better line would've been Carnegie Hall.)

Our being dressed in suits may have led more credence to the fake conversation starter. Wearing a suit also tends to up the charm quotient when you're really just drunk.

"Evanston? You're a long ways off. You want to go that way."

"Are you sure it's that way? The map said that way."

"That's north, that's south. You want to go north."

"But there's water over there." And then with my best charming look: "You wouldn't be lying, would you?"

There was some other conversation I don't remember. I may have lost that suit credence when the girls saw me holding my glass of Capt. & Coke and said glad they're not in our car.

"What happened to her?" one girl said, motioning to the lump in the backseat.

My friend's girlfriend was slumped against the door, a mass of hair pushed into the window.

I suddenly felt like I was in a sequel to Weekend at Bernie's, needing an excuse about the dead girl in the backseat, but the girls laughed it off.

Somehow the chat segued into beer pong.

"Don't mention beer pong to her," one girl said about the other, "because the beer pong championships were tonight and she just lost."

The other girl gave a mock sad look.

I said something about being a beer pong drunken master, only I used golf balls instead of ping pong balls.

I thanked the girls, and we drove off down the long alley of ill repute.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a terrible closer. Need to work on that.

Got home, ran a $300 deposit up to $1200 in online blackjack (then today dropped it to $0), and added a nice scotch glass to my cupboard.

There's a free Gallery Night coming up at the same Arts Center. I've marked it down on my calendar.

Poker "Office"

2008-09-29T23:58:00.001-04:00

Watching the season premiere of "The Office," Jim IMs Pam and we can see that he plays PokerStars on his work computer (an HP):

Earlier we saw him iChatting with Pam on a MacBook.

Though Kevin won a WSOP bracelet, Jim also plays a mean game of poker in the charity casino night episode when he confessed his feelings for Pam.

He also plays Bodog:

This is what I do when I'm not busy screen grabbing cracked pocket Aces and Kings.

I'd be lost without streaming TV. My laptop finally died after 5 years, so replaced it with a desktop machine that runs video like a dream. Couldn't wait a couple weeks to order from Dell, so I rented a car and popped by Best Buy to pick up an already configured Dell.

Everything hooked up surprisingly well with no problems so far on Vista.

Then spent the rest of the weekend catching up on season premieres, courtesy of all the networks' sites, Hulu.com, Fancast.com, and various other means. NBC even premiered shows online a week ahead of time, so I didn't have to wait for "Chuck" and "Life." ("30 Rock" will also premiere online on Oct. 23.)

Dual core lets me watch a high definition video, rip a DVD, update my iPhone, scan porn, and play four tables without noticing any processor slowdown.

"Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles" and "Heroes" have both greatly improved this season, and I'm tempted to stay up till 4 a.m. when FOX and NBC put them up online or shield my ears from spoilers tomorrow at work.

Gads, what has my life become?

RedBall at the Chess Pavilion

2008-09-23T23:54:00.001-04:00

A beach in the middle of a city? If they can put a baseball stadium in the middle of a city, they can do anything.

Artist Kurt Perschke is behind the RedBall Project, which is touring Chicago for another couple days.

I stole the above photo from the website showing the ball at the Chess Pavilion at the North Avenue Beach. (More photos here.)

While grubette and Doug were in town, we walked along the Beach and watched a speed chess match, complete with repartee by a Laurence Fishburne-like guy from one of my favorite movies, Searching for Bobby Fischer.

At the steps to the pavilion was this:

Hopefully they cleaned it up before the RedBall rolled up.

Here are some other pictures around the beach and Castaways restaurant. You wouldn't know it's Chicago.

What goes up...

2008-09-14T23:29:00.001-04:00

Ever since my withdrawal, I've been doomswitched and am now close to busto on Full Tilt.

PokerTracker tells me I should throw away pocket Aces.

I can't remember the last time they held up.

When I wasn't closing the table in disgust or throwing the mouse across the room, these are the screens I managed to capture (all are from the past two weeks and all were either all-in preflop or on the flop):

Pocket 8s are also bad:

I don't like poker very much any more.

Basking in a lucky streak of macaroni

2008-08-28T23:50:00.000-04:00

On Saturday I lost $1600 playing slots at Harrah's Horseshoe in Hammond. I mentioned this in the previous post but left out the number. The larger numbers I usually skip over so I don't reveal what a true degenerate I am, but then, if you're reading this, you probably already know.

Tonight on Full Tilt, I gained it back and more.

This was probably my best single day grinding out sit-n-gos, helped largely by winning a 45-person $69.

In fact, I'm a little freaked out because I don't want to break the streak of my entirely sustainable 43 percent ROI.

Here are my stats after getting home from Horseshoe through today -- five days and 72 games (the 72 is a coincidence).

The initial downswing was from falling asleep while playing. It was right after I got home from Horseshoe around 4 a.m. I blinked and suddenly the table was gone. Thinking I'd only nodded off for a second, I brought up the hand history and saw that I was out for 11 minutes -- the time it took me to auto-fold and bust out.

Around game 43 I was feeling good and joined Donkey Puncher and Mrs. DP downtown at the Citizen Bar rooftop for drinks to celebrate her new website. It was a Junior League kind of party, and I sat at DP's table where he was holding court with three women talking about how often they have sex.

They had two bottles of wine; I had a Cosmo and a few Bud Lights. And a block of the most delicious macaroni and cheese I've ever had.

Afterwards, we went to another bar for more drinks, and then White Castle again.

I got home drunk and automatically opened Full Tilt out of habit, which led to fishing at a 6max game, falling asleep again at SnGs, and dropping $700.

Wednesday gained a little.

And then today:

What's not shown are the cash games, SnG satellites (so many bubbles), and tournaments that I also played, bringing down my SnG win by $500.

Here's a fun hand from one of the satellites. Luckily I wasn't in the hand. Everyone was all-in preflop, and I could feel the 10-9 guy was going to win.

My total win for the week is $2000 minus the $1600 blown in slots, for $400 profit.

That $400 I'm going to withdraw and spend on something frivolous and unneeded, but I'm not sure what. Maybe I'll just blow it on food.

I feel like gambling now, but I'm trying to resist.

I've made my Iron Man for the month and will take the rest of the weekend off while grubette's in town (incidentally, the hotel where she's staying has a shuttle bus that goes to Horseshoe).

Then next week I'll begin work on what I lost in Vegas. If I can manage climbing back to even for that trip, I'll buy something even bigger.

"Boats tonight?"

2008-08-25T23:57:00.000-04:00

"Boats tonight?" was the two-word enabling text from Donkey Puncher staring at me in glowing temptation.

Or was it mockery.

Faced with the possibility of gambling, I don't get the "b-b-b-bet bet bet bet" dollar signs glazed in the eyes like Fred Flintstone, my reaction is more of dread. If there's such a thing as luck, I'm selling mine at a discount.

I really didn't need to go. I had no offers, which is usually what gets me out in the first place. For Vegas trips, I can't go for the free rooms anymore. It has to be free rooms plus a slot tournament or freeplay or gift or food.

I was still smarting from my last Vegas trip, and I had a bad run in online blackjack and pai-gow that I'd previously sworn off (and which I've sworn off again, which I truly think is the last time, at least for online).

But really, what else would I be doing?

My plan was to go see a live Rocky Horror-style screening of Showgirls ("She looks better than a 10-inch dick and you know it") at Music Box, then settle in for a marathon of SnGs.

But man, SnGs were already killing me. Three times I had AA vs. KK and lost all three -- King flop, runner straight, runner flush.

When asked why there are so many more bad beats online, the usual answer is you see many more hands online.

And that's true to an extent, it's just more obvious when the same situation is clumped together and you're knocked out on the bubble.

I expect to see AA against KK every 24 or so times (4 percent). I expect AA to lose every 5 or so times (20 percent).

(Strictly for pocket pair vs. pocket pair, I use 4 percent as a little rule of thumb -- at any full table, the probability of someone having a higher pocket pair is 4 percent per ranking... so if you have KK, there's one ranking higher for a 4 percent chance of someone having AA... if you have 1010, there're four rankings higher so there's a 16 percent of someone having JJ, QQ, KK, or AA... all very rough, of course, but written out that way, AA vs. KK isn't as uncommon as you might think... this is also why I toss low pairs early in tournaments -- early in blinds and position. Because they won't hold otherwise, I'm either flopping a set or flop-folding, and I'd much rather save those chips for better situations.)

If I'm figuring right, every 120 times I should see AA lose to KK.

It isn't out of the realm of randomness, but it's damn frustrating when I get into these unlucky situations.

One thing I might do is cascade tables instead of tiling. When cascading many tables, I never see the outcome and am not so results-oriented that could lead to tilt.

Enduring +EV poker bad beats is ultimately less enjoyable than enduring -EV slot losses, though.

I responded to DP's text.

This led to a long 7-hour evening of regret and depravity, otherwise known as gambling where there are no free drinks. It was also tied to not having any cell reception, being carded constantly and quizzed on my Nevada I.D. that I don't remember enough anymore that it's no longer instant recall and appears as if I'm making up the information, unfortunately having my PayPal debit card with me in addition to the regular debit card, as well as Vegas midnight coming at 2 a.m., meaning I could withdraw again from my regular debit.

Added to the pain was not sticking around for another 6 hours, when I could've picked up a free juicer as part of my weekly gift offer.

Not helping any was allergies came swarming through my sinuses, unhelped again by people smoking in my face. I would've been a snotty mess at the poker table or blackjack table, and slots don't care if you sneeze on them.

Went through a battery of games without hitting any bonuses. grubette's favorite Hot Hot Super Jackpot -- Mystical Fortune didn't give me a single bonus after $200. Tons of teasing respins though. Like many of the slots at the new $500 million Harrah's Horseshoe in Hammond, Indiana, the denom was nickel instead of the usual penny that I play, and all the Hot Hot Super Jackpots were 5x more expensive to play (meaning $1.50 minimum per spin vs. 30 cents and a max of $12.50 per spin vs. $2.50).

A similar bad run on Survivor, on which mamagrub turned $14 into $160 at Sunset Station in Vegas. Me, my first 30 spins were without any Spinning Streaks and hence, without any wins.

Even tried advantage playing Indiana Jones like mamagrub had seen the Cambodians do, but it was configured to a minimum bet of 25 lines instead of 1 line. If I wanted to try for the progressive, it would have to be for $1.25 a spin instead of a nickel a spin.

Games that I did win on were The Monkees, Diamond Queen, eBay (there isn't much to the game, but boy does that free spin bonus come up often), and video poker that doubled me up early on quad 3s in Double Double Bonus. But except for video poker, even those wins were no more than 40x, and I gave it all back.

I had a miserable time, and looking around the beautiful casino that didn't resemble any riverboat I'd seen before, I didn't see anyone else winning either (the view below is descending the escalator from the buffet).

While I expect to lose in slots, it's largely entertainment as long as I see the occasional win here and there to keep me coming back. With the wins few and far between, I don't want to come back.

Racked up a low amount of playthrough at 4x what I'd expect to lose. I definitely needed a bigger bankroll than three trips to the ATM would provide.

I did, however, enjoy hanging out at the Diamond Lounge (still the old one; the new one won't be ready until February). This was after losing my initial withdrawal at a relatively early 10:30 p.m. I drowned myself in two heavily buttered corn-on-the-cobs (corns-on-the-cob?), four pieces of fried chicken, two mini ham sandwiches, and a bowl of chicken dumpling soup.

When losing, I tend to tip more as an offering to the gambling gods, and my server Joy was overjoyed at my $5 tip that she offered me another free bottled water.

***
"White Castle?" DP said as we drove eastward on the Skyway of shame at 3:30 a.m.

The 24-hour McDonald's was closed.

From being down less than I was, he treated me to the #1 (four sliders, fries, Diet Coke). I put the four blue containers in my bag, and when I got home, discovered they were his delicious order of jalapeno, cheese, and onions.

That fueled me enough to play through the night and all Sunday on Full Tilt, winning back a large chunk of the slot losses.

Next time I'm at Horseshoe, it'll just be poker.

And heck, once I win back my losses I'm going to freakin' cash out and buy something.

Nest of retardsby grubette

2008-08-24T23:50:00.001-04:00

To substitute my usual B&M games, I had a little in my Stars account and gradually increased it to 175% of my buy-in. I was slowly building up an online bankroll with SnGs, holding to the Chinese Olympian philosophy that the only place to care about is first.

After racking up multiple first-place wins, I dumped most of it back playing live, but not including this fortunate hammer hand. I did type "HAMMER" in the chat, to which my opponent responded, "Damn 8."

My friend Mike says when I gamble I'd rather be a fool or a king. In this case I'd say I was both.

I can't concentrate this week, feeling my head is filled with snippets and to-do lists. I'm nearing the conclusion of my summer class. Summer school used to be for retards (I'm using that word as often as possible after it's getting so much hype on Tropic Thunder), but now it's thought of as being for the hardworking ambitious types. As that class ends, another duo of classes begin in a week.

I'm a reformed poor student, with blame placed squarely on the facts that I was 17 when I started college and was armed with a fake ID.

School is more of a distraction to me than anything, to keep challenged and not dissolve in an abyss of complacency at my job.

My current job woe is my slacker co-worker, who wordlessly hasn't shown up for work in the past four days. I asked another co-worker where she was and his response was, "Who the f*ck cares?"

A previous co-worker threatened to kill someone in the office, was put on 2 years paid administrative leave and then finally terminated. Hello, 2 years? I know few people who actually enjoy their job and mine would be fine, if it weren't for retards I work with. This week, when asked for a "funnel" report, a co-worker produced a "funeral" report. WTF? Another co-worker didn't file taxes for four years even though she was getting a refund and owns property. This same co-worker needed help counting to 43!

Honestly I don't know how much longer I can stand it. I have something coming up next month in a different state that may produce some opportunities (or at the very least, may stroke my ego), but I’m going to have to find a way to leave my comfy nest of retards and venture out into something different.