Or to put it another way, that's nine and a half grand I won't be seeing again anytime soon.
That might sound a bit glib. Of course we have to send the little soldiers off into battle, speculate to accumulate and all that. Aside from it being efficient (tomorrow there will be 400 odd people standing in line in yesterday's clothes with the "oh, is there a tournament on today?" look in their bleary eyes), it actually always makes sense to me to just buy in for stuff when it was quiet and get it over with. Though I've never actually been robbed in Las Vegas (aside from the odd trip to the Fashion Show Mall), there's always a first time for everything. So either handing over 10 grand at gunpoint, or handing over a fistful of tournaments buy in tickets whilst cheerily saying "go on...pretend to be me, good luck!" is at the very least good for some personal entertainment value. Of course if the felon then goes on to win the tournament in my place I'd probably be a tad pissed, but hey, we came to gamble.
Curiously when I rolled up at the Rio today, at the registration cage there was just one person ahead of me in line. In a very non-Caesars display of efficiency, the whole process was done and dusted in under ten minutes. Good omen? Christ, where are my lottery numbers...
Adventures with National Express coaches and their attempt at humour by being stupidly early as opposed to extremely sodding late not withstanding, I finally made it to Gatwick, across the pond, picked up my car, collected and unpacked all my crap, got my ducks in a line, and became semi-organised. Even enough to meet some pals in the evening for some food and a swim. The EDC is in town this weekend (Google it), and whilst of course I'm a fan of cute 20-something girls clad in bikinis, angel wings and fluffy boots as much as the next guy, 80,000 of them blocking the roads and walkways when I'm trying to get to my bed is just a bloody nuisance. However, it was mostly quick and painless, as Barry Cryer used to say.
I'm supposedly now off from work, at least that's the idea. As a result I'm trying to distance myself from everything there for a bit, and just get on with the poker, which starts for me tomorrow. Of course, me being me this is far easier said than done, and I've been still quoting and emailing stuff from 5000 miles away today. As one erstwhile observer already pointed out, I'm apparently a bit of a masochist. Insert your own joke there. As mentioned, I found time before unpaid work-stuff to pop over to the Rio and shed a few dollars for some of my more prominent WSOP events, the first of which kicks off tomorrow. It's far more convenient than simply walking around with wads of cash in a satchel, I can already see the disapproving glares I'd have to withstand if I told the tall but true story of actually BEING robbed here. Touch wood we never have to go to that point in life.
I was recently described by a friend as a misanthrope. "Who the fuck are you calling a werewolf?" I retorted (I think I'm basically the only one who either gets that gag, or thinks it's funny, but screw it). I guess it's true to say I have a less than stellar opinion of a fair percentage of people. Possibly I need to meet a few less shitty people in order for that to change, however, in my small circle of friends, the ones I have are good friends, and are just simply nice people, with not too many bells or whistles. I'll have these guys all day long as opposed to where I was a few years back. Currently, I'm staying with a pal in town who is unassuming, kind and easy going. He likely won't read this, that's why I can be complimentary. More people like this please! The added bonus of my accommodation is shown here...
That might sound a bit glib. Of course we have to send the little soldiers off into battle, speculate to accumulate and all that. Aside from it being efficient (tomorrow there will be 400 odd people standing in line in yesterday's clothes with the "oh, is there a tournament on today?" look in their bleary eyes), it actually always makes sense to me to just buy in for stuff when it was quiet and get it over with. Though I've never actually been robbed in Las Vegas (aside from the odd trip to the Fashion Show Mall), there's always a first time for everything. So either handing over 10 grand at gunpoint, or handing over a fistful of tournaments buy in tickets whilst cheerily saying "go on...pretend to be me, good luck!" is at the very least good for some personal entertainment value. Of course if the felon then goes on to win the tournament in my place I'd probably be a tad pissed, but hey, we came to gamble.
Curiously when I rolled up at the Rio today, at the registration cage there was just one person ahead of me in line. In a very non-Caesars display of efficiency, the whole process was done and dusted in under ten minutes. Good omen? Christ, where are my lottery numbers...
Adventures with National Express coaches and their attempt at humour by being stupidly early as opposed to extremely sodding late not withstanding, I finally made it to Gatwick, across the pond, picked up my car, collected and unpacked all my crap, got my ducks in a line, and became semi-organised. Even enough to meet some pals in the evening for some food and a swim. The EDC is in town this weekend (Google it), and whilst of course I'm a fan of cute 20-something girls clad in bikinis, angel wings and fluffy boots as much as the next guy, 80,000 of them blocking the roads and walkways when I'm trying to get to my bed is just a bloody nuisance. However, it was mostly quick and painless, as Barry Cryer used to say.
I'm supposedly now off from work, at least that's the idea. As a result I'm trying to distance myself from everything there for a bit, and just get on with the poker, which starts for me tomorrow. Of course, me being me this is far easier said than done, and I've been still quoting and emailing stuff from 5000 miles away today. As one erstwhile observer already pointed out, I'm apparently a bit of a masochist. Insert your own joke there. As mentioned, I found time before unpaid work-stuff to pop over to the Rio and shed a few dollars for some of my more prominent WSOP events, the first of which kicks off tomorrow. It's far more convenient than simply walking around with wads of cash in a satchel, I can already see the disapproving glares I'd have to withstand if I told the tall but true story of actually BEING robbed here. Touch wood we never have to go to that point in life.
I was recently described by a friend as a misanthrope. "Who the fuck are you calling a werewolf?" I retorted (I think I'm basically the only one who either gets that gag, or thinks it's funny, but screw it). I guess it's true to say I have a less than stellar opinion of a fair percentage of people. Possibly I need to meet a few less shitty people in order for that to change, however, in my small circle of friends, the ones I have are good friends, and are just simply nice people, with not too many bells or whistles. I'll have these guys all day long as opposed to where I was a few years back. Currently, I'm staying with a pal in town who is unassuming, kind and easy going. He likely won't read this, that's why I can be complimentary. More people like this please! The added bonus of my accommodation is shown here...
As people who know me are aware...I LOVE dogs. These two are absolute sweethearts. Guided purely by their stomachs sure, but that's just the nature of being a dog. I'm not judging. I actually feel far better after a few hours around them than you'd believe was possible. I'm in two minds as to whether to actually tell my own dog about all this (yes, we talk). I doubt he reads the updates often, but he's as jealous as they come, so discretion is possibly the best bet here.
First event, WSOP $1k tomorrow. Off to bed.
First event, WSOP $1k tomorrow. Off to bed.