Intertwined Indeed...aka my mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun...aka Vegas Redux in Tux
Who says the internet is depersonalizing things? How else could I have gotten to know my slipstream Muse if not for this confounded fabulosity?
How indeed.
Well as a lot of you know, Mel met one of my two demands, and ya have to love the title of that post. I’ll give her a pass for not commenting here, having seen the rough reception some of you cads greet her with. To quote Defamer, in turn quoting the vastly over-rated Eva Longoria, “Fuck! Be Nice! It’s Fucking Thanksgiving!” I don’t recall any of this being on my list of goals to accomplish with this corner of the sphere, but my time with Mel has really been special. So thank you O blissfully porn-strewn Ether. Thank you for Mel, in all her kilted glory.
I know what you’re wondering boys: T’is a consummation devoutly to be wished?
Only if I was feeling uncharacteristically suicidal.
First and foremost, a man has to know how to stay out of trouble.
Oh, and since there is some confusion brewing out there, untermension is not a word in the English language. But goddamn, I love it when people try to pass the pace car…
In unrelated news, I just got back from Vegas. I was there in time to visit the Rio and see the final table at the ME. Unfortunately, I missed hanging out with almost everyone I normally would have been stoked to meet. The happy exception was a great evening spent with Don and Carmen, wherein we substantiated a friendship borne out of poker can be well sustained in its absence. I count getting to know the two of them as among the best things to have come out of this blog. Yep, right up there with my Mel – high praise indeed.
I’ve spent the last few days taking care of the tedious business of preparing for work as my particular brand of electrician in New York, and just caught up on my blog reading in time to find Waffles and Duggles preparing to divorce one another. Think about the kids, boys, think about the kids…
Onto this month’s installment of the travel writer’s staple, Flights on the Road, wherein I will share a take on time in Vegas that differs from that of my esteemed, if exhausted and somewhat disheveled peer group. Without further ado:
How To Find Vegas Beautiful Without Hardly Trying...
I recommend getting things off on the right foot by flying nonstop and traveling First Class. This was a $150 upgrade at the counter, and I guarantee I will take it every time. For any of you over 6 feet, this can’t be stressed enough. Lately, my left knee has been teaching itself a new language that bears disturbing similarities to Arthritis. The extra wiggle room was the vaccine which inoculated me from limping my way to the cab stand with a wince and a grimace impaled on my face.
Now I was traveling with the Mrs. and this posed the first character check of the trip, which I addressed with a typical Y chromosome logic. Being the redoubtable individual I am, I do have to acknowledge that the joy of First Class, with its ruggedly once-hot stewardess and her perpetual attention to my beverage status and ring finger, was somewhat mitigated by the knowledge my Beloved was silently seething in Coach and planning a slow, twisted revenge. Fret not for me friends; I happily and rapidly deduced the correct combination of Greying Geese required to inculcate a state of permaglow that not even the thought of something after death could dint. We caught the movie Inside Man on the way over, which was simultaneously clever and predictable, a combination you wouldn’t think could be easily achieved.
From the flight in, I would next cover choice of accommodation. I recently read Wil opine on the Palms, and never having been, I’m not in a position to comment. However, Bellagio gets my unqualified approval. Both the hotel and the staff are elegant, restrained and attuned to a guests’ every need. Plus I have become addicted to their champagne brunch, which isn’t cheap compared to other Vegas buffets, but makes up for it implied snootiness. That said, my waiter on the first day was a bit of a downer. Not rude, but he wore an air of defeat so pungent it took the tang out of my key lime pie. The only blemish on Bellagio’s otherwise spotless record.
The first night in we stayed in and enjoyed the privileges of a couple who hadn’t been on vacation together sans kid in the last four years. Yeah, yeah, medicine is a grind, but no, I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, and you’re all too smart to anyway. I manage adequate supplies of self-pity when called upon, but as I defrosted in the scalding hot water of the rotatable shower heads and settled in to a bed that gave my TempurPedic masterpiece a run for its money, I was actually thinking that life was pretty damn good.
Day 2 was even bettah as we met up with Don and played the tourney at Caesars – in keeping with my last visit to this sumptuous poker room, card deadness was the rule of the day. I was eventually taken out pushing shortstacked with KJs. Ah well, D went deep and came close to a cash. Chris set the bar to damn high for the rest of us!
That evening we ate at Picasso, a true gem of a restaurant. With various works by Pablo himself providing the ambience, and the Fountain show directly in front of us, we were feted well by the sommelier’s selections for our meals. The effect of my roasted pigeon and a world tour of reds and whites I had never heard of had my head reeling but my taste buds saturated. Phenomenal. One of the best restaurants I have eaten in. And I grew up in Toronto, so that is saying something.
We also managed to sneak a payperview of Xmen in, which for those of you married with kids is a real miracle. Cool, but I liked Superman Returns better.
Day 3 was highlighted by shopping at the Venetian, hitting the Rio for the final table of the ME, visiting the Star Trek Experience (my idea I am proud to admit) – my picture on Kirk’s bridge hangs proudly in my living room – then watching La Reve with Don and Carm, followed by a great dinner at Tao.
As for the WSOP, it was smaller than I imagined, with the single table dwarfed in that convention hall and seats aplenty for anyone interested. Having missed the rush, I have to say it was a little underwhelming. The booths were also a surprise, and the glamorous internet shots did not hold up to live scrutiny. They too were physically smaller than I had envisioned, and far more simple than what I imagined multi-billion dollar companies would come up with. Even most of the booth babes did not fare well under my EtOH-absent gaze. I was glad I got there in time to see it, but it was clear we had missed the insanity, which was too bad. Next year, assuming I’m not playing in it, I am definitely getting here earlier to drink the madness in. I like crowds.
We normally would have been out late that night, but with the airport scare, we were told by everyone to get there four hours early – with my tan skin tone and Pak last name, I was expecting a rough run of it, but credit to the guys at Mccarran – it was business as usual and we were through in about 15 minutes. Sadly we did get up at 6AM to get to the airport at 7 for an 11 AM flight, the only hiccup in a close to perfect trip.
Regrets? Only an inability to meet up with fellow bloggers I was looking forward to meeting. Missed cc, Ryan, Pauly, Wil and practically everyone else in town, when all spontaneously convened at the MGM on Night 2. I’ll plead spousal prioritization, and acknowledge we had a blast, but wished I could’ve been in two places simultaneously. Strangely, this trip was our first vaca without kids, and I ended up nearly devoid of the drive to play, as we dedicated ourselves to that other Vegas tradition – burning through the kids’ college funds as fast as we could.
Good Times, Good Times…
Laytah.
P.S. Played about as poorly as anyone could and made it to 69th in the 20k. That’s my third cash in it, but I am beginning to despair. Where is the solid decision maker of a month ago? Where is the guy who does not fall in love with his overpairs and can remain steadfast in the face of murderous blinds. I have been looking at my play these last three weeks and I barely recognize my thought process. Which is the aberrancy? The deep field successes or the current impatiences?
How indeed.
Well as a lot of you know, Mel met one of my two demands, and ya have to love the title of that post. I’ll give her a pass for not commenting here, having seen the rough reception some of you cads greet her with. To quote Defamer, in turn quoting the vastly over-rated Eva Longoria, “Fuck! Be Nice! It’s Fucking Thanksgiving!” I don’t recall any of this being on my list of goals to accomplish with this corner of the sphere, but my time with Mel has really been special. So thank you O blissfully porn-strewn Ether. Thank you for Mel, in all her kilted glory.
I know what you’re wondering boys: T’is a consummation devoutly to be wished?
Only if I was feeling uncharacteristically suicidal.
First and foremost, a man has to know how to stay out of trouble.
Oh, and since there is some confusion brewing out there, untermension is not a word in the English language. But goddamn, I love it when people try to pass the pace car…
In unrelated news, I just got back from Vegas. I was there in time to visit the Rio and see the final table at the ME. Unfortunately, I missed hanging out with almost everyone I normally would have been stoked to meet. The happy exception was a great evening spent with Don and Carmen, wherein we substantiated a friendship borne out of poker can be well sustained in its absence. I count getting to know the two of them as among the best things to have come out of this blog. Yep, right up there with my Mel – high praise indeed.
I’ve spent the last few days taking care of the tedious business of preparing for work as my particular brand of electrician in New York, and just caught up on my blog reading in time to find Waffles and Duggles preparing to divorce one another. Think about the kids, boys, think about the kids…
Onto this month’s installment of the travel writer’s staple, Flights on the Road, wherein I will share a take on time in Vegas that differs from that of my esteemed, if exhausted and somewhat disheveled peer group. Without further ado:
How To Find Vegas Beautiful Without Hardly Trying...
I recommend getting things off on the right foot by flying nonstop and traveling First Class. This was a $150 upgrade at the counter, and I guarantee I will take it every time. For any of you over 6 feet, this can’t be stressed enough. Lately, my left knee has been teaching itself a new language that bears disturbing similarities to Arthritis. The extra wiggle room was the vaccine which inoculated me from limping my way to the cab stand with a wince and a grimace impaled on my face.
Now I was traveling with the Mrs. and this posed the first character check of the trip, which I addressed with a typical Y chromosome logic. Being the redoubtable individual I am, I do have to acknowledge that the joy of First Class, with its ruggedly once-hot stewardess and her perpetual attention to my beverage status and ring finger, was somewhat mitigated by the knowledge my Beloved was silently seething in Coach and planning a slow, twisted revenge. Fret not for me friends; I happily and rapidly deduced the correct combination of Greying Geese required to inculcate a state of permaglow that not even the thought of something after death could dint. We caught the movie Inside Man on the way over, which was simultaneously clever and predictable, a combination you wouldn’t think could be easily achieved.
From the flight in, I would next cover choice of accommodation. I recently read Wil opine on the Palms, and never having been, I’m not in a position to comment. However, Bellagio gets my unqualified approval. Both the hotel and the staff are elegant, restrained and attuned to a guests’ every need. Plus I have become addicted to their champagne brunch, which isn’t cheap compared to other Vegas buffets, but makes up for it implied snootiness. That said, my waiter on the first day was a bit of a downer. Not rude, but he wore an air of defeat so pungent it took the tang out of my key lime pie. The only blemish on Bellagio’s otherwise spotless record.
The first night in we stayed in and enjoyed the privileges of a couple who hadn’t been on vacation together sans kid in the last four years. Yeah, yeah, medicine is a grind, but no, I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, and you’re all too smart to anyway. I manage adequate supplies of self-pity when called upon, but as I defrosted in the scalding hot water of the rotatable shower heads and settled in to a bed that gave my TempurPedic masterpiece a run for its money, I was actually thinking that life was pretty damn good.
Day 2 was even bettah as we met up with Don and played the tourney at Caesars – in keeping with my last visit to this sumptuous poker room, card deadness was the rule of the day. I was eventually taken out pushing shortstacked with KJs. Ah well, D went deep and came close to a cash. Chris set the bar to damn high for the rest of us!
That evening we ate at Picasso, a true gem of a restaurant. With various works by Pablo himself providing the ambience, and the Fountain show directly in front of us, we were feted well by the sommelier’s selections for our meals. The effect of my roasted pigeon and a world tour of reds and whites I had never heard of had my head reeling but my taste buds saturated. Phenomenal. One of the best restaurants I have eaten in. And I grew up in Toronto, so that is saying something.
We also managed to sneak a payperview of Xmen in, which for those of you married with kids is a real miracle. Cool, but I liked Superman Returns better.
Day 3 was highlighted by shopping at the Venetian, hitting the Rio for the final table of the ME, visiting the Star Trek Experience (my idea I am proud to admit) – my picture on Kirk’s bridge hangs proudly in my living room – then watching La Reve with Don and Carm, followed by a great dinner at Tao.
As for the WSOP, it was smaller than I imagined, with the single table dwarfed in that convention hall and seats aplenty for anyone interested. Having missed the rush, I have to say it was a little underwhelming. The booths were also a surprise, and the glamorous internet shots did not hold up to live scrutiny. They too were physically smaller than I had envisioned, and far more simple than what I imagined multi-billion dollar companies would come up with. Even most of the booth babes did not fare well under my EtOH-absent gaze. I was glad I got there in time to see it, but it was clear we had missed the insanity, which was too bad. Next year, assuming I’m not playing in it, I am definitely getting here earlier to drink the madness in. I like crowds.
We normally would have been out late that night, but with the airport scare, we were told by everyone to get there four hours early – with my tan skin tone and Pak last name, I was expecting a rough run of it, but credit to the guys at Mccarran – it was business as usual and we were through in about 15 minutes. Sadly we did get up at 6AM to get to the airport at 7 for an 11 AM flight, the only hiccup in a close to perfect trip.
Regrets? Only an inability to meet up with fellow bloggers I was looking forward to meeting. Missed cc, Ryan, Pauly, Wil and practically everyone else in town, when all spontaneously convened at the MGM on Night 2. I’ll plead spousal prioritization, and acknowledge we had a blast, but wished I could’ve been in two places simultaneously. Strangely, this trip was our first vaca without kids, and I ended up nearly devoid of the drive to play, as we dedicated ourselves to that other Vegas tradition – burning through the kids’ college funds as fast as we could.
Good Times, Good Times…
Laytah.
P.S. Played about as poorly as anyone could and made it to 69th in the 20k. That’s my third cash in it, but I am beginning to despair. Where is the solid decision maker of a month ago? Where is the guy who does not fall in love with his overpairs and can remain steadfast in the face of murderous blinds. I have been looking at my play these last three weeks and I barely recognize my thought process. Which is the aberrancy? The deep field successes or the current impatiences?
posted by Iakaris aka I.A.K. at 2:57 PM
11 Comments:
Iak is back ! Loved the trip report, awesome stuff. We keep telling ourselves that one time we'll do the tourist Vegas trip, but we end up playing poker 15 hours a day. One day.
Good to see you at The Mookie last night. Good job in the 20 last night, just a matter of time before you are back at a final table.
Ah, deep breath of fresh air. My brain has been on vacation without your elegant prose (and having to watch the WWE level chair fight of the children W & D).
Glad you and Mrs. Supermodel had a fabulous detox time in Vegas! I must suspect there is more about your trip you're not telling us, but there are some curtains we won't pull back!
I agree Jules, notice the gap in posts on both Iak's and Mel's blogs. I suspect they flew Mel into to Vegas with the middle school uniform in tow.
This really explains why they weren't able to spend much time playing poker and meeting up with other bloggers.
Wish we could have connected at the Rio. Regarding locale, I've stayed literally everywhere except for Caesars, Hard Rock, and the Wynn, and I'll take the Bellagio every time. A home away from home.
Maybe next time...
good post man and nice recap...
I can't believe that you are STILL taking up for Melinda after she spoke to me that way. Your kinda fucked up. Ever heard of that saying "friends before fucks"? Apparently not.
well you brought this upon your self by stirring the pot and creating some additional inquiry as to whom really writes for melinda.
If in fact, you have nothing to do with it, then you brought this ugly mob to her doorstep, then she insulted carm, and now you are in a world of hurt.
Lucy, you got some explaining to do.
Okay, my 10 cents on the matter (exchange rates are a bitch):
1) If Melinda exists, she's a pathetic little bitch who has nothing better to do than insult our wonderful Carmen
2) If she doesn't exist, then somebody has gone WAY to far with the joke
Either way, she's been relegated to my worst category of female: Sperm Burping Gutter Slut (appropriate in her case as well)
Either way, Iak darling, I recommend finding a new muse. This one will just get our passionate blogger community enflamed.
Whoa! I am just catching up here after a long week. First off, thanks for the mention about the tourney, I just got lucky is all.
Glad you had a great trip.
Now I need to go off and catch up on what the SBGS (bwahaha, love it Jules) said about Carmen? WTF?
Hello, very nice site! Please also visit my homepages:
louis vuitton replica sunglasses
paycheck cash advance online
fax loan payday quick
cash loan personal quick
short term personal loan
payroll cash advance
advance cash loan loan online payday
lender loan online payday
emergency fax loan no no payday teletrack
24 hour payday loan
free credit report with plus score
Bye!
Hiring electricians to complete both small and large projects avoids potential problems and ensures the effective completion of the project http://www.roslynlimo.com/ there u find the best electricians of the world.
Post a Comment
<< Home