Monday, March 28, 2005

"As I was reading your column on bad beats in online poker, I couldn't help but think of something my dad always tells me: Never assume malice when stupidity will suffice."
Chris to Jackpot Jay

First things first.

A reminder to everyone that the next official No-Limit WPBT tournament on Poker Stars, open to all, is in TWO days.

Details: This Wednesday, March 30th
$20 + $2 - No-Limit
Poker Stars - Private tournament tab
Password: thehammer

I'm back home after a full weekend of poker at the boat. I didn't think I'd be getting back this late, but Lord Almighty, it was hard to leave.

Plus, where else to spend Easter but in a poker room?
There was one helluva lotta praying going on.

I have stories to tell. Hell, I'm even thinking of heading down there for a week or two or three to play full-time. For research purposes, of course.

Yuppers, I turned down the job offer, for whatever that's worth. I guess I'm not so ready to give up my freedom, after all.

Anyway, Caesers in New Albany, across the river from Louisville, has completely rebuilt their poker room, expanding to 22 tables. GMoney insisted I make the trek with him since they removed ALL slots and video poker machines from the poker area. He knew how much I always Hated hearing the incessant 'ding ding ding' drone of those freaking machines upon walking into that room. My hair would literally rise on the back of my neck.

But all is forgiven now.

The games were incredible - extremely loose. Gambloors. Drunks. Sports bettors. Weekend recreational players. Hillbillies. And nobody ever mentioned the J2o UTG that had just scooped a massive pot.

Poetry in motion.

At one point, early on Saturday morning, our drunken table captain, a Don Johnson look-alike with big wavy hair, earrings and $10,000 watch, challenged me to shave my head that night with him if our table hit the 50k bad beat jackpot.

I agreed, so he had it written down on paper, signed and notarized.
I'm not kidding.
It was that kind of weekend.

I just woke up, after sleeping 15 straight hours. And I'm ready to go back, damnit. Or better yet, I shoulda gone to Vegas and hung with Pauly and company.

Let's do a lame Easter joke and random photo in lieu of an uber-post, shall we?

OK. Golf joke.

Jesus Christ and Saint Peter go out to play golf. Saint Peter steps up to the first tee. He's got the sharp designers vines. Even got a brand-new yellow Amana hat. (Amana sewed up a sponsorship deal long before anyone else, and Nike couldn't even get in the door.) Clubheads that gleam in the heavenly light like stars on sticks. Takes out a golden tee. Puts down a fresh Titleist Balata. Smacks it down the fairway for a clean 265, dead center. Ball sits in the green grass like a distant white diamond. Allows himself a little smirk as he steps out of the tee box. Listens carefully to hear if a cock is crowing.

Anyway, Jesus is up next. Old robe. Sawdust up to his elbows (somebody needed a coffee table finished that morning). Got a black rock tied to a cane pole. Got a range ball with a red stripe around its middle and a deep slice up one side. Hits the ball with the rock, and it goes straight up in the air. It is plucked away by a passing pileated woodpecker, which flaps off down the fairway toward the green. Stiff head wind blows up. Woodpecker begins to labor. Just over the front fringe of the green, woodpecker suffers a fatal heart attack. Drops the ball onto the back of a passing box turtle. Ball sticks. Turtle carries the ball toward the hole. At the lip of the cup, turtle sneezes.

Ball drops into the hole.
Saint Peter shakes his head.

"You gonna play golf?" he asks Jesus.
"Or you gonna fuck around?"

Is this blasphemous?
Is it?
Truly blasphemous?
And what would be the blasphemy?
What would it be?
The punch line? That Saint Peter is said to be using a curse word as regards his Lord and Savior?
No, ma'am. Sorry. Please consult Mathew 26:73-74.

And after a little while, they came that stood by, and they said to Peter, "Surely, thou art one of them, for even thy speech doth discover thee."
Then he began to curse and to swear that he knew not the man.
And immediately the cock crowed.

Peter was forgiven.

So what would be the blasphemy?
That our Lord and Savior would play golf?
The He would do anything within His admittedly considerable powers to win?

No ma'am. Sorry. I believe that Jesus would play to win. I would not want Jesus in a $1000 Nassau, not even with four shots to a side. I believe that Jesus would take my money. I believe that he would take it and give it to the poor, but I believe he would take it. I believe that Jesus would focus. I believe that His ball would not find the rough. I believe there would be sudden windstorms. I believe that He would find no water, but that if He did, He would walk out and knock one stiff from the middle of the pond.

Is this blasphemous?

Damn, I've so much to blog about. In fact, maybe I'll do a couple mini-posts over the next couple of days instead of an uber one. Mix things up a bit.

All Content Copyright Iggy 2003-2007
Information on this site is intended for news and entertainment purposes only.

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