Las Vegas Recap - Red Rock Casino

March 2007

You don't have a website or something like that do you?

No, why?

I don't want to go on the Internet and find out that you've been talking shit about some Mexican smoking all your cigarettes during the Gators game.

Huh? That's not going to happen bro. No worries.

Cool. Thanks for the smokes . . . . I guess we can die together then.

Soon after that conversation, my sportsbook profits went out the window. After cashing out two HUGE winning tickets on Saturday thanks to UCLA, I just couldn't quit. I had to bet the games on Sunday.

I crave action.

Double shots of Patron too.

I held onto my UCLA winnings for about 15 hours. Then I pissed it away on UNC. The money must have been burning a hole in my pocket.

FUCK the GEORGETOWN HOYAS!

Oh yeah, FUCK Tajuan Porter and the Oregon Ducks. Twice.

FUCK stupid fouls with less than a second left.

I care about the spread damnit!

Thank goodness for the UCLA Bruins . . . . and betting the under.

Roller Coaster ride indeed.

I had a huge swing on Sunday.

As Miami Don said, nothing gets the juices flowing like betting on a basketball game. It's for action junkies.

Especially March Madness.

Throw in Pauly's buddy Senor and things get crazy.

UCLA bailed me out on a day when I went 3-7 picking games. I put my biggest bets down on them the two days they played . . . and won. Betting the spread and taking the under on UCLA was gold for me. My 3-7 record on Saturday felt more like 10-0. Those UCLA bets turned a losing day into my biggest winning day of the trip.

I love gambling.

Won a lot of money on Vanderbilt and Butler too.

Let it ride?

It was UNC that killed me. I put a big bet on them Sunday and lost. Big. I couldn't even watch the last 2 minutes in the trenches with Pauly, Change100, and Miami Don. The huge lead by UNC slowly disappeared. I had to leave. And fast.

I couldn't listen to the Georgetown fans cheering anymore. The hootin' and hollerin' sucks when you're on the short end of it. I had to get a good distance away . . . well, it was no more than 25 feet away . . . I was by the poker room and still had to see the loss to believe it.

Terror turned into a sick feeling.

UNC lost in OT. Ugly.

Money down the drain . . . and also down the toilet. Isn't gambling fun?

I really love March Madness.

I had a great time even though my nuts got kicked in pretty hard. I got to spend some quality time hanging out with my brother, Senor, Change100, Miami Don and JW.

The money truck turned into an empty dump truck within minutes but I'd still do it all over again. Well, maybe I'd change one thing . . . I'd bet on Georgetown instead.

Thank goodness I didn't move all-in on that UNC game.

Crooked Ted?

Think big, win big.

Next time.

* * * * *
Betting stats:

13-15 overall. Mostly NCAA games. Some NBA and NHL.

It sounds ugly but I was up big at 13-14. It's always that last one that gets you.

At least I hit 3 different parlays during the trip. Truly sick.

You always gotta have a little action money out there . . . just to keep things interesting.

Always.

I wagered around $8,000 in bets and walked away down. I should've spent my money more wisely . . . like getting some of the Red Rock sportsbook cocktail waitresses to blow me.

Bet on the Tar Heels or pay for a hummer? I think I blew it.

It is Las Vegas, right?

I chose the wrong rim job.


* * * * *
Sheer randomness:

I stepped into the Red Rock Casino elevator with two surfer dudes and a girl on Saturday. They were coming from the pool. We were going to different floors. One of the surfer guys asks his buddy why the elevator was going to the 8th floor.

"Our room is not on that floor," said surfer dude # 1.

Surfer dude # 2 goes, "Duh, that's the other dudes floor. He pushed the button, not me. Look at the other button that's lit up."

Crispy indeed.

As I got off, the girl says to me . . . . "Your shirt. What does daddy like? He likes slots? He likes em slutty?"

I turned around and told her that Daddy likes them stout!

And slutty.

She laughed and the door closed.

I think I need new clothes.


* * * * *
Say what?

This Mexican guy sitting next to me in the sportsbook kept making me laugh. He was a local. He told me that it was a good thing he wasn't at the club the night of the Pacman Jones fiasco. Pacman was involved in that shooting incident during NBA All Star weekend.

So this guy tells me that he's always strapped (with his 9mm). If he was at the club that same night, he would've fired a few shots himself just for the fuck of it.

Always strapped? Fire a few shots? Huh?

How about another cigarette bro?

He also told me his lawyer was sitting a few rows over betting on the ponies. Him and his friends kept ordering "wet pussies." One of the cocktail waitresses was trying to shake them down for bigger tips.

Gotta love them angleshooters.

I found out later that this guy used to sell drugs at the Redneck Riviera. Nuff said.


* * * * *

Poker anyone?

The first two hands of poker that I played after the UNC testicle kicking were pretty rough. I had my KK cracked by Dr. P. Then I flopped a full house versus flopped quads (I had 7-7 on a board of 6-6-7). Ouch.

Sunday just wasn't my day.

I love gambling.

Red Rock Casino was a great place to gamble, stay and eat. And lose money. I had 3 great dinners at the casino including a BBQ dinner . . . Amy Calistri made the dinner selection for me . . . all you can eat ribs, brisket and sausages baby!

Red Rock also has a sweet sportsbook. I love the cocktail waitresses too. Even the mush . . . she was so damn hot.

Good times.

We got it. You need it. It's just like . . .

Whether I'm on tilt or just feeling the blues, there's always one thing that cheers me up.

I just fire up this video and everything seems to be better**.

It's rather hypnotic and immediately reboots your hardware. TILT factor eliminated.

I'm heading to Las Vegas Wednesday for some March Madness madness. I expect truckloads of money coming my way after a few days in the sportbook. Seriously.

It's true.

We got it. You need it. You'll find it.


**Results magnify when medicinal marijuana is applied to the equation.

Atlantic City

Strange days.

I just spent a couple of days in AC and I did not gamble. Huh?

I decided to take the Greyhound bus out to AC on Friday night. I was looking to hang out with a bunch of fellow degenerates.

On the subway ride to the Port Authority bus station, I saw these two girls looking over at me.

I noticed them as soon as they stepped onto the subway. It was one of the stops in Harlem. They were wearing name tags which was weird.

One of them walked over and sat down in between me and some guy. She kept looking over at the both of us like she wanted to say something.

She finally leaned over and said something.

It was to the other guy though. Normally I would kick myself for not saying something first. Her friend was hotter so I wasn't too bummed out. The friend was sitting across from us. I thought about moving over there to sit next to her instead. That's when I heard the girl sitting next to me say the magic words.

Those magic words were "Jesus Christ."

My interest . . . as well as my boner . . . went away fast. I finally got a good glimpse of the tag that both girls were wearing. It said The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She proceeded to grill this poor guy and tell him about her love for Jesus.

Boy did I dodged the bullet on that one. I felt so damn lucky at that moment. She picked the right guy to go after because he fell for her religious pitch hook, line and sinker.

ABC.

Sister Teresa knew how to close.

I felt like I was part of a prop bet between the two Mormon girls. I came out the winner on this bet though.

Sorry J.C.

That was all the gambling I would need and I hadn't even made it out of NYC.


* * * * *

I met up with F Train, Karol, Dawn, Mary, Soxlover, Jordan and some of the Crackhouse peeps.

We witnessed a cat fight at the Borgata B Bar. Unfortunately, not a single nipple made an appearance.

Some girl spilled a drink on another girl. A few glasses broke and after some pushing security swooped in and broke it up. Booooo.

No ACH or Big Mike sightings yet.


* * * * *

I didn't have a room booked for the weekend. Soxlover was nice enough to let me stay in his room at the Borgata on Friday night.

He was staying with a wild man named Kwang (spelling?). He won over $6,000 playing craps and let us both crash in his comped room. He was a pretty funny guy. Him and Soxlover were cracking me up. They kept goofing on each other to no end. Funny ass shit.

Much appreciated guys. Thanks!


* * * * *

On Saturday, Sirs ACH and Big Mike showed up at the Borgata. Maigrey arrived shortly afterwards too. She drank with us for a bit then headed over to the poker room with most of the gang.

I drank all day with ACH and Mike at the B Bar and then later the Gypsy Bar. Al knew the band that was playing in the Gypsy bar. Lots of fun.

I also got a chance to hang out with Hoyazo at the bar. He played in the Caesar's circuit event for most of the day.

After getting wasted all day, I realized I hadn't gambled once. Sick.

Everyone made their way over to the Showboat's House of Blues at 10pm for a happy hour that the I Had Outs girls set up.

After trying to drink with Al and Big Mike drink for drink, I was starting to get a hangover fast and the night was still young.

Drunk mode quickly switched to Drink lots of water mode.

Thankfully, I did not puke.


* * * * *

My excessive water drinking was the key to not puking. So was my dinner.

What did I eat that helped?

Al, Big Mike and myself went to the Borgata's Noodles of the World to chow down. That's where I heard the best two words of the weekend.

Bacon Rolls.

Big Mike ordered that appetizer just as my eyes saw it on the menu.

We each got a plate of them with our meal.

Crispy Bacon, ground shrimp, and water chestnuts fried with wasabi cream sauce on the side.

Truly fantastic.

Thank you Jesus.


* * * * *

My Saturday night ended at the Tropicana. Al, Big Mike and myself went there on a recon mission for a future bachelor party spot. We hung out at the Red Square for bit.

Saturday night at the Trop = lots of drunk hot Jersey girls.

After chilling at the Trop, we decided to head back to the hotel. Al let me crash in his room. He had an extra bed. Thanks Al!

On the way out of the Trop, we hit the restroom near the poker room. I thought I heard a girl in one of the stalls. Maybe I was just really wasted and hearing things.

Not likely.

A blonde girl exits the men's room shortly after me.

Al comes out shortly after her and proclaims that some guy was getting a hummer in one of the bathroom stalls.

Awesome.

We headed back to the hotel and ended the night eating two pizzas.

Good times I say.

Thanks to the Philly crew for everything this weekend. You guys rock!

Danger Will Robinson?

How about I add one more reason why this country is falling apart?

Are you smarter than a 5th grader??

That's not it.

I didn't eat at McDonald's from 1999 to 2004. I was reaching maximum density and had to stop. Thankfully so. That food is horrible. Is it food? Some people eat all their meals there. Purely gross.

I made the mistake of moving next to a 24 hour McDonald's in 2004. I also made the mistake of staying at the Excalibur and the Plaza in Las Vegas. They both have one inside the casino.

The service is equally horrible. Especially in NYC.

They say the future is our youth . . . the children of America.


* * * * *

Who: Me.
What: Food. Very hungry.
When: Tonight.
Where: McDonalds, Somewhere in the Bronx.
Why: No clue. I think there's crack in it now that Trans fat is on the outs.


"Next customer please."

"How you doin'? I want 2 crispy ranch snack wraps and a small order of fries. To go."

"Ok, sir. Now will that be Honey or Ranch?"

"Ranch (with a what the fuck look on my face . . . I'm thinking, whatchutalkinboutwillis?)."

"Crispy or grilled?"

"Crispy (eye brow is now raised . . . I'm thinking, what a dumbass).

"Great."

"Is this multiple choice miss?"




"Huh? Is that it?"

"Yes, just those three items. Thanks."

"Three?"

"Um, yes. THREE."

"What did you order again?"

Simply typical. Gotta love the good old American education system. I smell a G.E.D. After I placed my order once again . . . . but in a much slower manner . . . . I got my food.

"Do you play online poker at all?"

"No, why? I just work here."

"Just curious. Was hoping to get your screen name so I can tag you and sit down."

"Sorry sir. Can't help you."

"I can see that. You know, I got seven words for you miss."

"Huh?"

"Bonus Code IGGY on Party Poker, damnit!"


* * * * *

At least I got a "sir" out of her. As I left McDonald's, I wondered what the future held. That ended quickly when I heard some tubby/overweight/horizontally challenged little kid yelling at the manager. He was demanding that they serve him a Supersized order of french fries.

Luckily for him, they no longer sell that size in most McDonald's across America.




When is Kevin Federline running for President? He just might win.



* * * * *

Welcome back Iggy.

At least we have Guinness and Poker . . . Cheers!