A Little of This... A Little of That...

I'm not really sure why I'm posting right now. I really have very little to say, but I'll say it anyway. So, what follows are a few random thoughts:

• More than a week after leaving Vegas, I'm still occasionally surprised to find myself reflecting back on Speaker's remarkable Hammer crack of my Kings.
• It's really fucking hot here. I mean, Africa hot.
  
• More than a week after leaving Vegas, I'm not surprised that I'm still running bad, despite taking some money off a big-time tournament winner in a recent home game.
• CarMax is a great thing.
  
• With just a few weeks to go until I completely uproot my life, I'm alternating between this strange combination of excitement, dread, and general WTF-syndrome when I think about all the shit I have to do before I move.
• Being called "less donkish" than you used to be is surprisingly complementary.
• A cold beer would taste really good right now.

Jacked, Hammered, and Generally Beat Down

Yes, I'm back from Vegas. And, as much as I love the town, I've got tell you, I haven't been this happy to get out of Dodge in quite awhile. It's not that I had a bad time in Vegas, or that I played badly. I didn't and I didn't. It's just that for the weekend, fate decided to make me the Honorary Hanel (a.k.a., Bad Beat Cover Boy).

Some would say it's karma. I say, Speaker pushed all in with best hand at 4AM - I mean, of course my poket Ks are going down to the Hammer when he turns the open-ended straight he made on the flop. He had me dominated before I put a chip in the pot.

Of course, getting Hammered - figuratively, literally and well, I can't think of any other way, is just part of the chaos that is Blogger Weekend.

Yes, I suffered many a bad beat in my hours of play. No, I won't recount them here. If you were at the tables with me, you saw them for yourself. If you weren't you don't want to know about them. Still, despite the misfortune of my weekend, I'll be back as soon as possible.

And, as long as Hanel shows up, I'll be fine.

Vegas Baby!

Yeah, yeah - it's the world's most overused headline. Still, it works. And that's where I'm heading in less than 24 hours.

Yes indeed. I'm escaping the oppressive summer heat of the San Fernando Valley for the oppressive summer heat of the Strip. At least I'm not paying for the air conditioning. For those of you who care (and I doubt there are many, if any at all), I'll be sitting down at the great blogger tournament on Saturday with a bunch of people who can, at best, be described as degenerates. And yes, that is a complement. Trust me.

Aside from that, I'll be stopping by the Rio to check out some of the WSOP action and to kill some time with the folks at the FTP suite. Watch this space for stories of random drunkeness and donkishness.

Until then...

Ch-Ch-Ch Changes

Yup - that's right, there's news out of Studio City. Actually, the news is that I'm getting out of Studio City fairly soon.

I'll be trading the sunny confines of Southern California for the dank overcast of Dublin. That's in Ireland, by the way... not Ohio. (I've been there, done that, and don't plan on doing it again.) Anyway, now thatI've made the decision to pick up and move, I actually have to pick up and get moving, which I really hate.

The move date looks like it's going to be August 13th, which is awfully close. I'll provide more information once I have it to give. Until then, I recommend developing a taste for Guinness if you plan on visiting.

No More Rafe Last Jokes for Me

I was watching his progress throughout the day, and damn if he didn't come through. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out PokerWire to find Rafe Furst's smiling mug sitting behind a mountain of cash and, more importantly, his first-ever WSOP bracelet.

Congratulations Rafe - and thanks for ensuring that Perry is no longer the only Tiltboy with a bracelet.