Posted: Sunday, January 31, 2010
-
2 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
Group of 40-year-old buddies discuss and discuss where they should meet for dinner. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Westside Tavern restaurant because the waitresses there have low cut blouses and nice breasts.
10 years later, at 50 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Westside Tavern because the food there is very good and the wine selection is good also.
10 years later at 60 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Westside Tavern because they can eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant is smoke-free.
10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Westside Tavern because the restaurant is wheel chair-accessible and they even have an elevator.
10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group meets again and once again they discuss and discuss where they should meet. Finally it is agreed upon that they should meet at the Westside Tavern because they have never been there before.
|
Posted: Tuesday, January 26, 2010
-
0 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
Poker has gone to the dogs in Florida. The greyhound tracks all now offer poker. Which is good. Because betting on the dogs is just gambling. Of course, you don't have to bet to enjoy a day at the track. Nobody's going to force you to walk up to the pari-mutuel window and ante up, say, $6 for a three-dog trifecta. Not wagering, however, has all the flavor of twin beds on a honeymoon. Something's missing. Fifteen minutes after arriving at the kennel club, I got my first tip. A somewhat disheveled, grey-faced guy with grey stubble pointed to Kelso's Minnie in the 12th race, the Budweiser Marathon. "Long shot. I can say no more." He said no more. Like all savvy players, I have a system. For example, in the 4th race, I bet on Dog Gone. I'll tell you why. Because he had the word "dog" in his name. He's not trying to be something he isn't. Which is how you succeed in this life, regardless of the species. I tend to ignore racers named, for example, Garfield The Cat or Arsenio Hall. Name just one fast schizophrenic you know personally. Try to pick a dog with a name which has a special meaning to you. Look for a karmic relationship. Yukon Teeny in the 8th race reminded me of Yukon Jack; not only includes my name but also an adult libation of which I am fond. No connection is too tenuous. I remember the all-time winningest dog in history was D.D. Jackie. I like black dogs. Black is my favorite color and black dogs just look like winners. Fast, even when standing still. Norma Louise, who believed in numerology, studied my charts. She said "6" would bring me the best luck. So, the #6 gets extra consideration. (By the way, I haven't seen the woman in 20 years and "6" still has not won anything for me.) I don't like betting the favorite. It's too easy and the payoff always seems insignificant. The favorite is the choice of most of the other gamblers and they are your enemies. Considering the average IQ, by definition, is 100, I always opt for the road less traveled. Investors can observe this same tip when playing the stock market. Avoid the pack mentality in all things. If you see a racer pause to relieve himself enroute to the starting line, give that animal special attention. (Don't stare.) He's definitely going to be lighter and probably feeling a little frisky. If the dog is black, coming out of the 6th hole, following a B.M., and a long shot, you can be fairly confident. Back up the truck. Bet the kid's college fund. Hey, that's what scholarships are for. I call my system The Divine Concept Of Universal Symmetry. Or, for short, "the hunch method." For real short, "wild guess." Seems to work about as well as anybody else's system. I know, 'cause I asked around. "The best system," I'm told by Duane, "is to sit on your wallet." He then went on to explain what he does when he's in a gambling mood. "Take the favorite and wheel it with the rest of the field. Then, if the people's choice is running the way he should, you get half the trifecta." It's a $56 wager and it's called a 1-All-All. Pete plays the first race. If he loses, he doesn't bet again. Pete was finished for the day when I arrived.  By the 8th race, I was down $40. On paper. Then I picked Revelation Guy, whose sire was Black Aztec. Picked two other black dogs, EOB Velvet and Texark Andy. Velvet reminded me of an adult libation and I once had a dog named Andy. (Andy was so wonderful, when he died, the local newspaper published his obituary. True story.) The trio finished in exactly that order, with a $2 trifecta paying $384.20. So much for science. I was still suffering from the 'if-onlys" when the 10th race arrived. I picked Montongo Bob, the only black animal in the competition. Barry's Boy, because of Dave, the Pulitzer-winning humorist, and Cardiac Shock, who's black & white. I actually wrote down 8-1-4. There are witnesses. $953.80. Would've made me well in a hurry. The tip on Kelso Minnie in the 12th? She finished dead last. The bitch could still be running for all I care. Even if she was the only black dog in the race. After all, I don't gamble - I'm a poker player.
|
Posted: Saturday, January 16, 2010
-
0 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
In my younger  days, I used to go to all the gallery openings. Great place to meet women. And you never had to worry about what to say. You see someone of interest near an artwork and you simply ask, "So, what do you think?" Whatever she says, you reply, "Really, I hadn't thought of that." And off you go. So, I'm loitering next to an, ummm, assemblage. Looks like the guy crashed his 1978 Pinto into a chicken coop, put the debris into a pile, then priced the whole mess high enough to pay for a new car. I'm standing there, looking at this stuff, trying to figure out if maybe they hung it upside down. And this woman - gooood lookin' - comes up to me. "Are you the artist?," she asked. "Sure, lady," I said, more than a little insulted. I took a sip of wine. "Don't I look just like the kind of chump who would hammer a Ford bumper to a dead tree limb, paint it six shades of black and hang a title on it: In Search Of An Honest Man." "I thought so. I bet my girlfriend a glass of wine. I just knew it." She sipped on her own glass. Obviously not her first. "Where do you get your ideas?"
|
Posted: Thursday, January 14, 2010
-
5 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
I swear some of these same people play freerolls. Yes, it's that magical time of year again when the Darwin Awards are bestowed, honoring the least evolved among us.
Here is the glorious winner:
1. When his 38. caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended victim during a hold-up in Long Beach, California, would-be robber James Elliot did something that can only inspire wonder.
He peered down the barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked.
And now, the honorable mentions:
2. The chef at a hotel in Switzerland lost a finger in a meat cutting machine and after a little shopping around, submitted a claim to his insurance company. The company expecting negligence sent out one of its men to have a look for himself. He tried the machine and he also lost a finger. The chef's claim was approved.
3. A man who shoveled snow for an hour to clear a space for his car during a blizzard in Chicago returned with his vehicle to find a woman had taken the space. Understandably, he shot her.
4. After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies.. The deception wasn't discovered for 3 days.
5. An American teenager was in the hospital recovering from serious head wounds received from an oncoming train. When asked how he received the injuries, the lad told police that he was simply trying to see how close he could get his head to a moving train before he was hit.
6. A man walked into a Louisiana Circle-K, put a $20 bill on the counter, and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled, leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got from the drawer... $15. [If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime committed?]
7. Seems an Arkansas guy wanted some beer pretty badly.. He decided that he'd just throw a cinder block through a liquor store window, grab some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinder block and heaved it over his head at the window. The cinder block bounced back and hit the would-be thief on the head, knocking him unconscious.. The liquor store window was made of Plexiglas. The whole event was caught on videotape.
8. As a female shopper exited a New York convenience store, a man grabbed her purse and ran. The clerk called 911 immediately, and the woman was able to give them a detailed description of the snatcher. Within minutes, the police apprehended the snatcher. They put him in the car and drove back to the store. The thief was then taken out of the car and told to stand there for a positive ID. To which he replied, "Yes, officer, that's her. That's the lady I stole the purse from."
9. The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked into a Burger King in Ypsilanti , Michigan at 5 A.M., flashed a gun, and demanded cash. The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn't open the cash register without a food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the clerk said they weren't available for breakfast... The man, frustrated, walked away. [*A 5-STAR STUPIDITY AWARD WINNER]
10. When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a Seattle street, he got much more than he bargained for.. Police arrived at the scene to find a very sick man curled up next to a motor home near spilled sewage. A police spokesman said the man admitted to trying to steal gasoline, but he plugged his siphon hose into the motor home's sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges saying that it was the best laugh he'd ever had.
*** Remember.... They walk among us!!!***
|
Posted: Sunday, January 10, 2010
-
2 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
My life as an elephant racer actually lasted only a single afternoon in the summer of 1989. It just seemed longer. Some notes from The Wild Dog Archives. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, the circus came to town last week. Circus Vargas, that is. Under the world's largest traveling Big Top. That's circus talk for a tent almost large enough to cover a football field or one month's trade deficit with Japan in $20 bills. An amazingly big show, supported by four monstrous center poles, each 56 feet high, and 24,478 feet of steel cable and manila rope. Amazing, too, was the call that came the day before the circus opened. "Jack D. Welch, please." "Speaking." "Mr. Welch, this is Sharon Brown with Circus Vargas. Your name was suggested to us for the media personality elephant race." Miss Brown had a really sexy voice. She sounded like slender redhead who would wear tailored suits and drive a baby-blue Mercedes convertible with vanity plates that said GOTCHA. I didn't understand what she wanted exactly, but I agreed to do whatever she asked. I hung up the phone and rushed to Peggy Diane with the news. "What's a media personality elephant?," she wanted to know. I found out when we showed up at the Multnomah Exposition Center in North Portland. It was the PACHYDERM 500. A dozen or two local media types had agreed to actually climb aboard a live elephant and see how fast a trio of massive mastodons could move across concrete-hard parking lot. While carrying an actual adult human being. Who should probably know better. Except for one young TV newscaster - who looked positively fetching in a safari helmet and an outfit straight from the Banana Republic catalog - I didn't recognize anybody. I met a bunch of disc jockeys; I understand now why they're on radio. All of a sudden I start to wonder just exactly how many folks turned down the siren-like entreaties of Ms. Brown. Before my name came up, you gotta figure a lot of important people said, "Sorry, I'd like to, but that's the day I plan to spray-paint my underwear." On the other hand, I figured this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. Survive this occasion and I'd be able to scratch ELEPHANT RACING off my list of things to do. I began my pre-race preparations by eavesdropping as one deejay tried to bribe an animal trainer. "You've got to do it on your own," I overheard the trainer say. "Headpiece, balance, butt and legs... that's all you've got. You're on your own. They can do up to 40 miles per hour. No guts, no glory." No helmets, no training wheels, no safety net. To be honest, I was expecting some sort of chair atop a totally trained domesticated beast who actually enjoyed the concept. I found instead the largest of all land animals, a 10-feet tall, 11,000 pound giant of the jungle who was having a tough day in a strange town. I had been assured these animals were vegetarians. I comforted myself with that thought as I watched the radio personalities dicker among themselves. They actually do talk a lot. "I work drivetime. I should go first." "I should have the big elephant. Our ratings are higher." Me, I want to go last. I want a small elephant. I want to live. I want to know why we have to do this on pavement. (Wouldn't barkdust or grass or padded rubber mats make more sense?) I want a graceful way out of this. "The least big one is a boy," Peggy Diane rushes up with this news bulletin. She's gone behind - and perhaps under - the elephants to check them out. The woman is curious about such things. Don't ask me why. Meanwhile, several heats have taken place. No one had died. No one has even been hurled to the pavement and stomped flatter than a frozen tortilla. Not yet anyway. It still looks more dangerous than electric eel juggling. "Jack D. Welch." You're up." I pretended not to hear. Perhaps they mean someone else. "Do you want me to go instead?," Peggy Diane asked hopefully. "It looks like a lot of fun. " The woman always knows just which button to push. I...ever...so...slowly...moved...to...the...trio...of...turf whales, figuring - correctly - the other riders would rush to the faster elephants. This was the final heat and only the the winner would have to ride again. I got Lotti, a former champion in her first race in six months. Today she'd finished dead last every time and was clearly not in top form. The trainer poked at Lotti with a spiked club and ordered her around like a puppy. "Down, down!!" I stepped on her left leg and swung up behind her ears. I watched my knuckles turn white as I gripped at the headpiece. I watched her eyes bug out a little as I squeezed her neck with my thighs. Squeezed like my life depended on it. Which I think it did. I decided I could do this. I told myself, "You can do this." "Up, up!" I almost fell off. And before I could regain my balance, some clown - he was a real clown, red nose and big floppy shoes - hollered, "Go!!" So, of course, we won by a trunk. I'd made the Finals. Finals??? Turns out I had won an earlier heat and completely forgotten about it. I think I blacked out. For the Finals, I took the animal nobody else wanted. Col. Joe is the biggest elephant in Circus Vargas. If not the world. He's got huge tusks. I can't say it enough. He's got huge tusks. Getting aboard the Colonel was kinda like climbing the outside of a brick apartment building. I didn't mount this beast, I scaled it. When I got behind his head and he stood up, I felt like I was looking out of a second-story window. Don't believe anybody who tells you such an event is over in the blink of one eye. We're talking a LIFETIME. Which probably explains the earlier blackout. Of course, at this point, I didn't fear death. I was focusing primarily on partial paralysis, when another clown hollered. Forty-five teeth-rattling bounces later, we're across the finish line and I know two things. I survived and I won. Call me The Prince of Pachyderm Perambulation. At last, I've found my niche in life. A beautiful redhead in a tailored suit gave me a trophy - a golden shovel - and Peggy Diane gave me a big hug. She said she was "damn proud." My first elephant racing groupie. I started thinking this could be the break I've been looking for. Started thinking about the nationals. Where the various media personality elephant racers from around the country gather to crown a grand champion. Turns out they don't have an event like that. Okay then, an endorsement contract with NIKE. Maybe a helmet with a swoosh and my initials. Yeah, that's it. A gun-metal gray helmet with my complete name and a pink elephant decal. They never called. Some people may question my claims to elephant racing stardom. But I still have the trophy. - JDW
|
Posted: Tuesday, January 5, 2010
-
3 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. - John 8:7. 1. Goal Setting. Analyze yourself. Be brutally honest. Where are you now? What have you done to arrive here? What have you done wrong? Done right? What are your defeats? What are your victories? Now that you know where you are and how you got here, you must explore a new route to a new destination. What are your goals? What do you want to achieve? Are you capable of reaching that level of performance and satisfaction? What are your goals? Write down your answers. Be specific. One key to a successful poker life is understanding what makes you happy as a poker player. What makes me happy is ending the month with more money than I started with. A simple goal, which may be a leak itself, as I am often hesitant to take necessary risks. This goal is also insufficiently specific. Specifically, my goal is to show a $1000 profit monthly. I came across the following example in another player's blog. 10 day goals: (November 21st – 30th) Win 5 nl cash game buyins. Win 10bb's in lhe. Have three consecutive winning sessions of cash games . Win 1 sng mtt. Get to 14,000 fpps on stars. Get to 8,000 ftps on tilt. Play 12 hours of cash. Play 50 sng mtts. Make $200. Note. This player made $500 in that period. And while his goal was to win just one SNG MTT, he actually won 2 of 22. Feel free to exceed your goals. Cash is really just a means of keeping score. Do something with your winnings. Just don't let them sit there. Move up, if you're ready. Take a shot if you are feeling confident. cash out some portion of your BR, if you are ready to do some spending. Which brings us to rewards. My big goal is the 2010 WSOP. 2. Focus. For my happiness, "playing" poker seems somewhat inappropriate. I work at the game. Every successful, i.e., money-winning, player has worked at the game. And, if you don't keep working, you will soon fall behind. If I am not willing to do my best, I shouldn't sit down at the table. But I do. "Concentration is the secret of strength," Emerson explains. Personally, I need to eliminate distractions. The television is invariably playing noisily. Between hands, I am often e-mailing or surfing the internet. One of my changes must be to reduce distractions. I am multi-tabling as I write this blog. The TV is blaring in the background. 3. Personal Improvement. The better your health, the better you will perform. At virtually every human endeavor. Including poker. Phil Ivey sprints up and down the hallway in his palatial home. He lifts weighs in his private gym. Assassinato jogs 3 or 4 miles as daily as possible. Poker may or may not be a sport, but you better get in shape if you want to win on a regular basis. I recently purchased a fitness-club-quality elliptical trainer which awaits within an arm's reach. I get in a brief "sprint" during five-minute MTT breaks. I have eliminated all beverages during play except for filtered ice water. 4. Better Players. Study them. Read their books. Rail their games. Watch their videos. Observe their lifestyles. Listen to what they say. Emulate winners. "If you want to be a winning player," offers Antonio Esfandiari, "you really have to be one step ahead of the next guy. You have to be really, really determined." Don't walk the poker road alone. Make friends. Form a sweat group. Share hand histories. Find a mentor. Join a training site. Become active at Poker Curious. 5. Game Selection. Every time you sit down to play, you better have a reason for being there. First of all, are you ready to play your A-game? Are you confident, prepared, fit, etc? Assuming a positive response, you can maximize your win-rate with proper table selection. No surprise here - the softer the competition, the more you should be able to win. Is the game juicy? Are there players you can exploit? Deciding when to play and with whom to play are the two most important keys to your poker profitability. Bonus change to improve your game. William James said, "Act the part and you will become the part." Act as if you are already a better player. And believe it. You are not only skillful but unusually lucky. Don't berate opponents in the chat box. Stay away from the Bad Beat Forums, because you don't yourself tell bad beat stories. Think like a top player. Eschew tilt. Take pride in your game. Set aside time to enjoy with your family. Read a non-poker book, one without too many pictures. If you become a better person, you will surely become a better poker player. By the way, I turned off the television. Bach is playing so softly I can hardly hear it. I am playing better already. - JDW
|
Posted: Friday, January 1, 2010
-
0 comment(s)
[ Comment ]
-
0 trackback(s)
[ Trackback ]
"I'd like to be remembered as a guy who tried - tried to be part of his times, tried to help people communicate with one another, tried to find some decency in his own life, tried to extend himself as a human being." - Paul Newman
THIS IS WHAT I BELIEVE. I BELIEVE.....
FUN IS GOOD. AND DOING GOOD FOR OTHERS IS THE MOST FUN YOU CAN HAVE.
GOD EXISTS. AND MIRACLES HAPPEN. AND PRAYER WORKS.
YESTERDAY'S GONE. TOMORROW'S NOT HERE YET. THERE IS ONLY TODAY AND
WE CAN EACH MAKE A DIFFERENCE RIGHT NOW.
YOUR REACH MUST EXCEED YOUR GRASP. THE SIZE OF YOUR SUCCESS IS
DETERMINED BY THE SIZE OF YOUR BELIEF.
A SETBACK IS JUST A SETUP FOR A COMEBACK. ONCE YOU LEARN TO SWIM, IT
DOESN'T MATTER HOW DEEP THE WATER IS.
SUCCESS IS NEVER AN ACCIDENT. THERE ARE FEW THINGS THAT CANNOT BE
ACHIEVED BY HARD WORK AND SHEER DETERMINATION.
WHEN AN IRRESISTIBLE FORCE MEETS AN IMMOVABLE OBJECT, THAT OBJECT WILL
MOVE. MAYBE NOT FAR, MAYBE NOT FAST, BUT IT WILL MOVE.
ENVY IS IGNORANCE AND IMITATION IS SUICIDE. WE ARE WHAT WE DO AND
ALL OF US COULD DO BETTER.
VISION WITHOUT ACTION IS A DAYDREAM; ACTION WITHOUT VISION IS A NIGHTMARE. YOUR VISION OF WHO (OR WHERE) YOU WANT TO BE IS THE GREATEST ASSET YOU HAVE.
THERE ARE NO SHORT CUTS TO ANY PLACE WORTH GOING. WITHOUT A GOAL, IT IS DIFFICULT SCORE.
CHANGE SHOULD NOT BE FEARED, BUT EMBRACED. ALL CHANGE IS NOT PROGRESS, ALL PROGRESS IS NOT IMPROVEMENT.
THE PERSON WHO DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES IS UNLIKELY TO MAKE ANYTHING.
OFTEN IT'S RIGHT TO BE WRONG.
NOTHING IS BRAIN SURGERY EXCEPT BRAIN SURGERY. SOMETIMES YOU'RE THE PIGEON, SOMETIMES YOU'RE THE STATUE.
YOU MAKE A LIVING BY WHAT YOU GET; YOU MAKE A LIFE BUT WHAT YOU GIVE. LIVE EACH DAY LIKE YOUR MOTHER, YOUR MINISTER, YOUR DOCTOR AND THE POLICE CHIEF WERE WATCHING.
THERE'S A INSTANT BETWEEN WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU AND HOW YOU RESPOND. IN THAT INSTANT LIES YOUR FREEDOM AND POWER TO CHOOSE WHAT YOU DO. IN THOSE CHOICES LIE YOUR GROWTH AND HAPPINESS. WHAT CHOICES WILL YOU MAKE?
IT IS BETTER TO BE IN A POSITION TO HELP OTHERS THAN TO NEED THE HELP OURSELVES.
LIFE IS NOT A SPECTATOR SPORT; LIFE IS A CONTACT SPORT. WE NEED TO DO MORE. WE MUST.
THIS IS WHAT I BELIEVE. WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE? - JDW
|
|
|
.png "United States of America(USA)")
Copyright 2010 -
