Verbosities

Asshole Tax Redux

I’ve been thinking about Shawn Nickerman’s latest video blog where he proposes an “Asshole Tax” be levied on those most deserving. Hell of a good idea. I’d like to add to the list, if you’ll indulge me. This is, naturally, a wildly incomplete list…

Talking on your cellphone…
· In a restaurant, at your table – $100
· While in a stall in a public restroom – $200
· In a darkened theater, even to say “I’ll call you back” – $100
· In any public place with no effort to shield your conversation for privacy – $50
· While weaving in and out of traffic in excess of the speed limit by 15% or more – $100
· Purchasing a “ringtone” – $200
· Having the volume cranked on that ringtone loud enough that heads for 100 yards in every direction turn when you get a call – $200

In a public restroom (men only)…
· Speaking (exceptions include “excuse me,” “sorry” and “thank you”) – $50
· Speaking while in a stall with the door closed – $100
· Purposefully ignoring urinal etiquette* when appropriate choices can be made – $100
· Reaching the sinks at the same time as another in an uncrowded restroom – $50
· Eye contact of any sort – $100
· Not making at least a token effort to pretend to wash your hands if another person is in there – $100

*“Urinal etiqutte” simply means that you should always have a one-urinal gap at minimum between yourself and another who is/may be using the facilities.

On the Internet…
· Responding to any email with only “thank you.” – $50
· Choosing abrasive and/or electric/neon styles for your personal page – $100
· Using “LOL” – $100
· Forwarding a joke and/or survey – $50
· Taking anybody seriously enough to start a flame war – $200
· Being dumb enough to respond to said flame war – $200
· Arguing that these taxes are the same when “he started it” – $1000

While out and about…
· Wandering aimlessly like you’ve got nowhere specific to be – $50
· Ordering food for your entire construction site at a fast food drive thru window – $100
· Making any argument against tipping less than 15% – $200
· Public usage of the words “fabulous” or “decadent” – $100

For restaurant owners/chefs only…
· Naming a dessert “Death By Chocolate**” – $200
· Implementing any apparatus for portion control behind the bar – $500
· Putting any item with the descriptive term “extreme” on the menu – $200
· Sneaking sour cream, mayonnaise and/or mushrooms into a dish where they do not belong*** – $1000
· Cranking the music so loud your patrons cannot miss the “ambiance” you’re creating – $500
· (Olive Garden complaint) Having your waitrons arrive to greet the table with a two-liter bottle of “the house Rose’” instead of schooling them on matching a non-Boone’s bottle to the guest’s meal – $500

**When you see “Strawberry Shortcake” or “Key Lime Pie” on the dessert menu there may be minor variations on a theme, but it’s largely the same type of thing every time. “Death By Chocolate” might be a moussey-puddingcake thing, it might be like an uber-choco trifle, it could be a multi-layer cake that might or might not have (I’m going to misspell this next one) ganache as a molten core… Can we at least pick a phyla and go with it please?

***I’ve had a French Dip sandwich slathered with mayonnaise with a slice of cheddar and potato skins with an underlying layer of sour cream despite no warnings as such on the menu. I’ve had French Onion soup with mushrooms too. What the hell is wrong with people?

General character flaws…
· Rooting for Notre Dame – $200
· Thinking your time is more valuable than mine – $200
· Leaving a voicemail in excess of seven seconds – $50
· Leaving a voicemail in excess of thirty seconds – $200
· “Knowing” Darwin is wrong despite almost failing high school biology – $200
· Using the Bible as anything but a personal guidebook for your own personal code of ethics. Privately. – $200
· Choosing residential real estate as a career – $200
· Spending more than 10% of the true value of your unimproved automobile on after-market stereo and/or trim/decorative equipment and parts – $200
· Spending half an hour or more on your hair to make it look like you slept (and fitfully, at that) on an unshampooed head for the last three days – $200

I could continue, but please feel free to add fees and levies to the comments below. Now, if there was only a way we could collect…

Secret Six: Playing Through A Cold Streak

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale, covers more than just horse racing. There’s a gambler’s mentality that’s important to cultivate, and the authors are able to cull a great deal of input from their interviewees on this topic alone. Chapter six, “It’s One Long Game,” features a good look at putting what’s behind you, well, behind you. From the book:

“You have to be able to keep your wits about you. You have to keep making good plays. You have to stay cool when things are going bad. Like I said, if I’m having a bad day and I look at the rest of the card and see something I really like later on, I’ll take it easy until then and try and make a big hit there. Today is not the end of the world. If I lose today, I come back tomorrow.”

Horse racing to us is recreational, poker is more serious in this regard, and you see poor losers dotting the landscape at every online site. You’ve got to learn to take a losing day, or a brutal beat as well as possible. Yes, the beat may have just cost you a lot of money, but if you’re consistently making good decisions and playing the odds, ultimately these swings will go in your favor. Poisoning your mentality leads to pressing, tilt, or worse.

—–

Secret Five: Cutting Through The Crap

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

When playing blackjack, there’s a generally accepted way to play a soft seventeen against a dealer’s four. When gambling horses, there is no one right way to dissect the data. In the book Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale, chapter five is all about knowing your strengths and weaknesses as a gambler, and how to exploit those assets appropriately. From the chapter “Woulda… Coulda… Shoulda… Doesn’t Get It Done:”

“Learning to handicap is an evolutionary process–everyone begins as a neophyte. The general progression is you start out knowing nothing and then you learn everything–and then you cull out the things that are not important. But there’s a lot of trial and error.”

Some people have these little gambling truths that they’ve learned throughout the years. “Never bet against Brett Favre in-division,” would be an example. Horse racing throws a lot of data at you, and unless you’re learning what’s working for you (in our case, identifying overlays on second- and third-priced horses on the board) and ditching what’s not (trifectas, they were killing our bankroll), you’re not doing anything more than throwing aimless dollars into your hobby. Get better.

—-

Secret Four: You Guess, You Lose

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

Since there’s a total of six secrets published in Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale, and since there are only five days in a week, you’re getting your Wednesday Bonus Secret at half price today. Congrats. If we’re supposed to only play winning propositions, how do you find these props and play them properly? From the chapter “If I Only Knew How To Bet:”

“A lousy handicapper, who bets on hopeless horses or takes the worst of prices, has no shot. A decent handicapper who makes idiotic bets won’t do much better… The truth is that only a small number of people are 20 percent better than the market in order to beat the takeout, and that just gets you even. It’s a tough, tough game to win.”

If you find yourself losing big on wild four-team parlays with your bookie, you take it down a notch and single a few teams, right? The object is to win, not collect uncashable tickets. Same theory here. You can be right on the winner, but if you’re looking to play nothing but Superfectas, you’re going to wait a long time between winning tickets. Play smart, make bets you can feel confident in, and be content to take “just” 3-1 on your money when that price is actually an overlay.

——-

Secret Three: Finding Value

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

Probably the most important lesson from Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale is what could be called the “Fundamental Theory of Horse Betting.” Quoting Cary Fotias from the book in regards to the concept of value, “You should never play unless you’re getting the best of it.” From the chapter “The Never-Ending Quest For Value:”

“Always put a price on a horse’s head–and only bet when you’re getting a couple of odds levels better. If you can’t put a price on a horse’s head, you have little chance of winning at this game. Everything comes back to the odds. Just because a horse is on a great pattern line doesn’t mean he should automatically be bet. The price must still be right.”

Putting it another way, if we told let you bet a quarter on the roll of a dice, but only paid you a dollar when your number hit, are you getting value? What if we paid you two dollars? Winning the dollar is ultimately a losing proposition, but getting two bucks as the prize puts you way out ahead in the long run.

————

Secret Two: Think Differently

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

More horse racing wisdom to digest today from Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale. Every day this week we’ll pull a quote from the book, doing our best to gear you up for Breeders’ Cup Saturday. From the chapter “The Information Edge:”

“The… most important step is to look at the race as a betting proposition. Only now do I look at the morning line and the DRF analysis and consensus picks. What I am of course hoping is that I have seen the race differently from the way the public is likely to–there’s going to be an odds-on favorite I think is vulnerable, or I thought there was a standout in what others find an impossible event.”

If it’s apparent that the favorite would win this race 100 times out of 100, then you should play the favorite at any price. Most races aren’t as clear, and the process of finding value – getting 6-1 on a horse that should win 25 times out of 100 – is absolutely crucial.

———-

Six Secrets Series: First Secret? You’re Wrong

Series originally published 10/24/05 – 10/29/05 at OJ

One of the ways we get fired up for the looming Breeders Cup card is to pick up one of our favorite books and re-read, looking for that little extra wisdom that can hopefully tip the scales in our direction. That book is Six Secrets of Successful Bettors : Winning Insights into Playing the Horses by Frank Scatoni and Peter Thomas Fornatale, and every day this week we’ll pull a quote from the book and give you something to chew on before the big day hits. From the chapter “A Hard Way To Make An Easy Living:”

“I have a Ten commandments of racing, and one of them is, if most people do it at a racetrack, then it’s wrong! If you do the opposite, you have a better chance. Most people bet less if the odds go up, and when they go down they bet more. Wrong! Most players who get ahead tend to wrap up, and most players who are losing press. Wrong! Every natural instinct you have, regardless of your IQ, is wrong at the racetrack.”

Assorted Garbage

Watched the first episode of NBC’s “Conviction” on a free download from iTunes the other day. The show won’t hold my attention, but the marketing approach will. I loves me something for free, and free of commercials is even better. TiVo also started channelling podcasts through their interface including “This American Life,” to which I already subscribe. It’s not as convenient as downloading to my iPod, but I’m not paying $44/year for the subscription this way either.

~

I wrote a pretty boring look at the Lions’ offseason personnel possibilities which I archived so as to not put all y’all to sleep. It’s here if you’re interested.

~

My friend The Doc (not Doc) emailed me today with a premonition she had. Normally she shouldn’t worry about me posting her emails, but I’m putting this one up for dissection:

I had this moment of clarity and I think I know how you will find your next serious mate. You will first see what she has in her grocery cart. It will be fresh basil, mozzarella, a bottle of wine, some prosciutto, some fresh bread. Only then will you make one of your snarky remarks that will make her laugh. You will look up and see that she is a really cute girl who is well dressed and has a look that makes her look like someone who is just a little bit dangerous but overall professional. She will look in your cart and see practically the same thing and make some comment about how you have similar tastes. You tell her that you’ll cook if she brings the wine. She is surprised. You start to load your stuff on to the register and say that you just got done with a long day at the office, that she obviously did too, that you were going to make enough for two anyway and that you seldom get to cook for someone who would really appreciates Italian cooking. She takes you up on it and you live happily ever after.

Not that The Doc has problems with spelling, but kudos to her for getting “Prosciutto” correct. Of course, I mention my favorite pork-product here often enough spelling it should be second nature for all of you by now. Anyway, she’s not the first one to have this thought as my parents have been harping on this theme for years (and no, the connection between my ex-wife and pork isn’t in this same vein).

In order to clarify The Doc’s premonition into something that more resembles my patented and recurring Italian Deli And Grocery Fantasy I’d like to offer the following list of what a woman can do or say to me to get my heart pumping:

· Ask for a taste of four or five salamis/other cured meats at the counter, eliminating at least one by saying, “Where the hell was this made? Milwaukee? Gimme the imported.”

· “Can I have that packed in the whey?”

· “The Alessi is overrated but for a commercial production the Colavita is actually quite decent.”

· (In reference to an expensive Gorgonzola) “Screw chocolate, this is better than sex.”

· “No, not par-me-san… Parmagiano-Reggiano.”

· “I can’t get out of here without a half pound of your Sopresseta please.”

Yeah, I’m a sucker for a woman who knows her (my) ethnic cuisine.

I wrote The Doc back:

On my 40th birthday desperation sets in. I haven’t been within five feet of another human being since I was allowed to telecommute in for my job five years ago. I realize that this is no way to continue to live so I order a bride off a Russian amputee mail-order bride site. Her name is Svetlana, and I lovingly call her “Stumpy.” I never do find the stomach for Borscht, however.

Far more likely than finding a woman who’s got a love for heavily cured imported pork products methinks.

~

I got criticized by a friend of mine recently for offering a counterpoint to some advice she was getting. She heard from him on Tuesday, he was supposed to call on Wednesday to set a dinner on Thursday and didn’t. Thursday morning she was ready to write the dude off for life (essentially). I was trying to give the counterpoint that women often read everything into something that may very well be nothing at all. I mentioned that women are real quick to reach final decisions on shit, and it’s often based on nothing but speculation and assumption that they’re reading “signals” and signs from guys.

Of course, a woman basing a final decision on a guy based on reading signals is usually shit because guys aren’t as full of subtext as women like to think we are. The friend said that I had “obvious issues with women” based on that thought.

If by “issues” she means “carefully observed and true phenomena exhibited time and again by women no matter how unique, liberal or open-minded they think they are,” then sure I have issues. Probably my least favorite trait in a woman women is when they’re training their decoder ring on what the guy thinks is an innocuous situation, and they end up turning it into a Big Fucking Deal instead. Women aren’t always wrong about this stuff, but there’d be more peace on this planet if half our species weren’t always trying to split the atom with every perceived nuance in a conversation.

Men dumb. Men usually mean what men say. Men rarely load comment with subtext so men don’t need decoding.

Grunt.

The friend, to her credit, stayed patient and seems to be getting paid off little by little in this situation. Hope it continues to improve for her too, not even a little bit so I can say “I told you so.”

I mean that, not the opposite.

~

I swab the shit out of my ears in the wake of every shower I take, but somehow with my earbuds in all day long I still manage to loosen earwax into my canal on a moment by moment basis. Maybe Ghostface Killah does have a purpose after all.

Speaking of earbuds and iPods, I mentioned “This American Life” earlier, which is one of my true pleasures on a weekly basis. However, nothing makes me skip to the next chapter faster than hearing something like “Chapter Three. David Sedaris joins us with a tale of what happens when a squirrel and a chipmunk…” CLICK. I enjoy the guy’s writing, but for the love of god knock it off with the animal allegory already. We get it, you’re endearing. Your fans love you. Quit mailing it in already.

~

Bob’s got details up about a charity tournament at Noble Poker for some disease named after Patrick Ewing. I think it affects your brain stem to the point you begin to believe you’re a seven-foot underachiever who has the magical ability to make four steps to the basket not appear as traveling to the referees.

I’d play, but I’m waiting for the disease named after Matt Bullard, which apparently afflicts white guys taller than 6’10″ to the point where they spend all their time on offense outside the three-point line. Matt Bullard never pulled down a rebound in his career, do we need to see what might happen to Andrew Bogut and Joel Pryzbilla if they catch this evil malady?

~

Top Seven Wu-Tang Family Albums, In Order

1) Return To The 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version – Ol’ Dirty Bastard
2) Only Built 4 Cuban Linx – Raekwon
3) Enter The Wu-Tang – Wu-Tang Clan
4) The Pretty Toney Album – Ghostface Killah
5) Supreme Clientele – Ghostface Killah
6) 718: The Mixtape – Ghostface Killah (Theodore Unit)
7) Liquid Swords – GZA

~

What’s with the volume in this spot? It’s that kinda day around here. I have a job that has a fairly narrow focus, the tasks I’m here to perform are currently “on hiatus” for a short period, and until there’s some trickle-down I can help with, I’m basically a cubicle monkey with tied hands for the short term. No worries, it’s a temporary hiatus and nothing I’m concerned about. Still, having stuff to do beats not having stuff to do.

~

Soundtrack of the Century wrapped up on PBS last night with a 40 minute look at pop music from the Monkees to Britney Spears. Terrific documentary series, but to cover 40 years of pop music in 40 minutes? Especially after one of the songwriters said that writing a classic pop song is a lot harder than you’d think. There’s no explanation as to why one set of lyrics work while another set of equally banal words doesn’t.

What we learned (or were reminded of) last night:

· Young Deborah Harry was smokin’ hot
· The two chicks from Abba would do in a pinch
· Kylie Minogue’s been around for 25+ years
· Duran Duran is still criminally underrated
· Simon LeBon thought Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s “Relax” was genius
· “Like A Virgin” was written by two guys

· The bassline for “Virgin” was almost identical to “I Can’t Help Myself” by the Four Tops
· Some British dude named Waterman (?) is responsible for all the boy-band homoge-girl pop you see today

Regardless, the other episodes of the series were terrific. If they replay it on PBS (and why don’t they do this? MTV plays shows incessantly…), TiVo the whole series. Great stuff.

~

It’s like that y’all, have a ball.

BG’s about six feet tall.

Since They’re Rare From My Keyboard, Here’s A Bad Beat Story

Excuse the indulgence, but I’m allowed one of these every once in awhile…

I think I’ve figured out what must be the worst feeling in online poker.

I played the Stars Deep Stacks on Saturday, and found myself approaching the end of hour three with a fairly healthy (but under par) 10K. UTG I find QQ. I bump the blinds to 4X (which I think means 400 at this level), and a semi-maniac in the cutoff rebumps to 800.

I know, “fishy min raise.” Considering the source I didn’t think it was AA/KK or even AK. I was confident I had him beat, but wanted verification. I made it 2K to go and got a call.

Yep, got him beat.

Flop is TdTc9c. I check to the guy who wants to bluff me off my hand and he fires 1200 into the 4K pot. I raise him all-in and he doesn’t even blink before calling me with…

A7o. Which, apparently, is also known as “The Tourist.” He’s got the 7c and apparently was on one of the following draws:

1) The I hope he doesn’t have Aces or Ace/King so I can catch my Ace pair draw

2) The I could go runner-runner sevens if he doesn’t have TT or 99 to make a full house draw

3) The perfect-perfect straight flush draw

4) The I’m pot committed in the 50/100 level with only 5K back and 3500 in the pot, let’s see what happens draw

5) The I always play three parts to the low end of a straight strong draw

6) The maybe I could make a flush from here unless he has a bigger club draw

6) The I wasn’t paying attention to this guy folding for an hour straight just now and can’t imagine he’s got a stronger hand than Ace Fucking Seven Offsuit when he raised and then re-raised from UTG just now draw

We both caught a club on the turn, so that left him with two red Aces left in the deck… We all know what happened next.

Anyway, it’s not the details of the beat so much but the gut-wrenching feeling of getting almost-deep in a deep stack multi after investing three hours of fruitful solid tight-aggressive play, only to fall victim to what can only be described as a “bluff-call.”

Seriously, what hands does he put me on with my pre-flop activity that don’t have him beat? KQs? Would I push him all in with KQd? KQc would have to be the worst hand that might be theoretically possible that he might be near 50/50 against. Maybe something like 22 or 33 where he needs to count on his Ace, his seven or the 9 to pair (or running pair).

Frankly, his best-case scenario (besides the slim shot I’m overplaying A6o with no clubs) based on the range I gave him preflop is that I’m holding almost exactly what I am holding – an overpair to the board that isn’t three parts open ended to a straight or Aces (if I had no club, even better). Aces have him dominated and Jacks corrupt his straight draw a bit. QQ or KK gives him the (in his eyes) three outs he needs for the Ace, and runner-runner possibility for the straight.

Why call? I know I want this call 100% of the time and was an enormous favorite to win the hand before the last card, but why do you call off 5K in a deep stacks with nothing?

I’ll never understand people. I would have ended up above par and second biggest chip stack at a fairly weak-tight table. I could possibly have folded into the money (maybe, maybe not).

I maintain that these deep stacks tournaments are more fraught with potential frustration than a bigger buy-in multi. The bubble seems closer, but “short” stacks aren’t necessarily desperate-short until hours five and beyond. Players aren’t dropping like flies and the play is (generally) more conservative with respect to starting stack size than a traditionally structured multi.

In other words…

I just wasted how many hours and dollars to lose like that? Fucking hell.

Life’s Not Fair – BOMBARDMENT!

What’s good is I’ve lost 35 pounds since December. Spending roughly five weeks of the last eleven fasting* will do that for you I suppose. I look better than I did at the peak of my chubbitude, which was probably in the instant I took my last bite of dessert at 3950 in Mandalay Bay in early December. More importantly, aside from the slight tenderness of the Frankenscar up and down my midsection, I feel better too.

What’s bad is that I’ve shrunk out of a couple of pairs of my favorite pants.

*These would include December 19th through January 6th, where I can count roughly three actual meals, plus the nearly two weeks between the Sunday before my surgery (2/5) and the fifteenth, which is when I had a full meal again for the first time since.

Now, far be it from me to complain that I’ve lost too much weight (boo hoo) and am back to 34 & 36 waist pants after a good six months at 38, but I really liked my stone-colored corduroys in 38. I had purchased a pair of 36s about a year ago at TJ Maxx for $12, and they were fine. Then, after my bloat, I picked up an identically toned pair from a different manufacturer. The 36s are a tight 36, while the 38s were comfortable and roomy. The 36s aren’t as comfortable on the inside as the 38s, presumably due to a higher grade of corduroy fabric in the 38s. The 38s were a button-fly, and have front pockets that run parallel to the belt line as opposed to the vertically cut side-access ones on the 36s. Also, the softer fabric on the 38s cuts down on the traditional corduroy walking VWEET/VWEET/VWEET noise, so now that I’m back in the 36s I have to mince around like a bow-legged cowboy to avoid alerting people to my oncoming approach.

Most importantly? The 38s are flat-front and the 36s are pleated. I don’t know why I did this to myself, I should totally know better. Pleats are perfectly acceptable in true “slacks” and other dress pants, but khakis and cords (and especially fucking blue jeans)? The only type of pants that can be worn casually have flat fronts. Period. Just looking at myself in these things disgusts me. I shouldn’t even call them pants, they fluff out so much I should pin them under my kneecaps and call them “pantaloons” instead. This balloon-crotch look I’ve got going reminds me of all those middle-aged men like former FEMA boss Michael Brown doing the pseudo-casual thing with their powder-blue oxfords on short torsos with too-high khakis belted tight around the equator and not smartly tailored enough to taper down from there.

I think if you were to pump my crotch full of helium, I’d be likely to float the hell away. These pants are what must be best described as “blousey.” I think if I somehow grew 44″ hips and kept my waist at 35″, only then would these things look filled out.

I’m not a vain man, but I cannot for an instant imagine how bad my ass must look in these things.

I made two poor wardrobe choices today with the addition of a thick royal blue Old Navy oxford completing the ensemble. This shirt was fine when I was portly. Now that I’m merely chubby it doesn’t seem to want to contribute to the horizontal lines of svelteness I’ve managed to acquire. I seem to be wearing today’s combination as some sort of stunt clothing levitation feat of amazement as each individual article hovers a distinct two and a half inches from where it should be laying against my body. I’m not sure if it’s the shirt’s fault I look like I’m swimming in an electric blue moo-moo, or if it’s the fault of the pleated cords for faking the Jiminy Glick physique in the middle, but I’m really disturbed by the whole thing as it stands. If I didn’t buy most of my clothes at discount outlets like TJ Maxx and the Gap Outlet store I’d hustle over to find another suitable pair of cords like the 38s.

Yes, this stands as the only thing so far I miss about being fat.

My jeans don’t fit right either, so I ran out to the Gap on Sunday morning to take a look at picking up a pair of 34s. When did jeans get to be $50 at the Gap? That’s blatant robbery so far as I’m concerned. My price point is $39.50 for jeans, and I absolutely refuse to pay more unless they’re flannel-lined from belt to ankles. They were some good looking jeans to be sure, but I can’t get my head around paying $50 for them. Of course, Old Navy’s jeans are made of recycled 20 oz pop bottles or something, which is the only thing I can assume to explain the lightweight “denim-esque” material they put in play to keep their tag under $25. I also dig J.Crew’s jeans, but it’s been awhile since my last pair ripped apart on me, and I’m sure I’d be paying $68 or more for denim from those high-falutin bastards. And don’t even get me started on Banana Republic, whose clothes are only cut for the male equivalent of a women’s size zero. Do I need to be gay and addicted to heroin to enjoy their new spring line?

Getting back to my wardrobe for a minute, you know who the unsung heroes of my closet have been? The second and third buttons from the bottoms of each of my dress/button-up shirts. If you think about it, the top button has the easiest job. He just hangs out and only gets stuck in a supporting role if there’s a tie involved. Since I haven’t been to a wedding where I wasn’t in a tux for almost six years, I’ve been able to avoid the necktie for quite awhile to this point. The buttons down the chest have it pretty easy too, considering I’m 31 years gynecomastia-free and counting. The bottom button is usually fairly well protected inside and under the belt line, so it really doesn’t get a ton of stress from daily wear-and-tear.

No, it’s the second- and third-buttons from the bottom that need the credit. They’re just above belt line, so every time you sink under your desk a little, they’re probably getting clipped by the edge of it. And if your weight tends to fluctuate as mine has, those buttons are the crucial link to keeping your dignity on a day-to-day basis. They work over the belly roll or under, they take stress from your growing love handles, and have a variety of doughnut-induced forces able to pull their stitching taught in any direction.

The seam of your pants right up your ass-crack is and always will be there for you. When was the last time you realized how important those two buttons are?

Aside from maybe three of my shirts and about four pair of pants (which are 38s, of which I have 36s in play in near-identical styles), everything is fitting better than it did two months ago. Oddly enough, even my hats. I probably lost about an eighth of an inch around this cranium of mine, and while it’s not sub-orbitably large, it’s certainly big enough that I require what they refer to as a “low profile” ball cap.

“Low profile” basically means “without stuff on the front panel that extends the top of your hat into the troposphere.” My noggin is big enough, thank you, without putting what can best be described as a drive-in movie screen sized flat front above my forehead. Instead, my hats need to tightly hug the top of my head all the way back to that annoying bean* on top that holds the whole damn hat together. If there’s any sort of vertical rise off my head, the hat goes to the bottom of the pile automatically.

No offense PokerStars.

*In this day and age of space age polymers and special fabrics developed for NASA, you’d think the “bean” on top of the baseball cap would be the vestigal tail of the habadashery industry. The only purpose they seem to serve is to localize the painful welt on top of the heads of those who repeatedly take blows to the bean by a bigger kid. Even if that’s the only true purpose, how stupid would ball caps look without a bean?

By now I’m assuming you’ve gotten this far in the post with only one thought on your mind… “Jesus Christ, how does this guy cope?” Well, not an easy question to ask of someone who’s 6/7th the size he was 60 days ago with a shrinking head and a crotch that’s billowing like I’m wearing a hoop skirt. Sooner or later I’m going to end up dropping more weight in my head and when you put a pea-sized cranium on these narrow shoulders of mine I’m going to quickly have five or six more pair of pants that make me look like I’m wearing stage pieces from the Rose and Swan era upon Avon.

These pants are getting buried in the backyard as soon as it thaws.

Survey Says…

This blinking cursor is just taunting me. I have all the down time in the world right now to just hammer away on these keys and instead I’m hitting refresh on my gmail account every eleven seconds just to make sure I don’t miss an email.

Bah.

Screw that, let’s ramble…

· From the files of “You Can’t Make This Shit Up,” I had a dream on Tuesday night that Wolverine from the X-Men* and Drizz were on the run after escaping from a mutant concentration camp. The other mutants from the camp were under some sort of mind control headband thing, and from what I could tell Drizz’s only power was that he was just a bit taller than an average human.

*Okay, and I’ll admit that I was first-person in the dream as Wolverine. I am a huge dork, but adamantium claws are cool.

· Reason #177 that I’m glad to no longer be homebound – last week I watched an episode of Maury where some bloated swamp sow was trotting out her seventeenth man that might very well possibly be the father of her bastard child. She is still taking the doughnut on this televised DNA-match effort, but I’m left with a few questions. First, how many sexual partners could a wo-manatee of her size possibly have in a collapsed timeframe? And second, is it a deficiency in understanding the concepts of mathematics, probability, and/or the way a calendar works that has her thinking it could be any one of seventeen or more men that has fathered her child? Wouldn’t there be a two to three week window at max in which you’d have to consider your partners to be viable? And wouldn’t some percentage of those partners be likely exclusions based on their use of condoms or maybe their race? How many different men could a fat girl possibly sleep with in three weeks? How the fuck do you go 0-17 with your guesses? These are the things I need to know.

· I’m really quite pissed off at our weather lately, as now that my dietary restrictions have been lifted I am able to have a big fucking prosciutto sandwich if I want to. Of course, to get decent Italian food I have to drive 90 miles total, and if it’s snowing and icy I’m unlikely to make the trip. Bob did try to help by picking me up some supplies from the grocery/deli on the way by a couple weeks ago, but there wasn’t a ton of prosciutto and it was in chunk form. It went into my meatloaf and was tasty, but I want a sandwich dammit. At least I still have a couple of balls of fresh Mozzarella. Still in the whey too.

· Dropped a buy-in at $50NL last night with top two pair against some dude who played his implied odds well and caught his open ender with two-gapped hole cards. I then worked my stack within $10 of breaking even only to drop $45 on another hand all-in preflop with KK versus AA. So rigged. By the way, I’m getting more pissed when my horse loses than when my Kings get cracked. Sometimes I think I should just take the lottery up as a hobby.

· Speaking of the lottery, I always said that if I won I’d likely “do nothing.” However, reason #389 that I’m glad to no longer be homebound is that doing “nothing” fucking sucks. To that end, here are the Top Five Things (In Order) I’d Do If I Won $15M:

* Become a horse owner, summer at Del Mar.
* Spend at least 120 days a year in Las Vegas playing horses and poker
* Buy a tour bus, load it up with five to seven other bloggers**, hit every goddamn poker room from coast to coast over a six month roadie.
* Buy a bar, turn it into an OTB by installing computer terminals and big screens where I could have my patrons playing on their YouBet accounts while I sling drinks.
* Move to Italy, buy a small villa and spend my days cooking, reading and gambling on the Internet.
* (BONUS THING I’D DO IF I WON $15M) Do everything in my power to knock up Scarlett Johannsen.

**Okay, so who’d be on the bus? The easy ones are Bob, Pauly, Al, Jason and Matty. Two spots left – make your case as to why you should be on the bus in my comments below…

· I’m shocked and surprised that the events of last night have not been spoken of by involved parties. Let’s just say that four to seven men in their 30s in our group may as well check their heterosexuality at the door next time, and we all know there’s going to be a next time. And no, I will not speak of what should remain unspoken.

· Top Five Things I’m Craving Now That I’ve Gotten Pizza Out Of The Way:

* Prosciutto
* Buffalo Wings
* Sopressetta / Salami
* Nachos
* A Whole Wheat / Whole Grain bagel toasted with butter

· Wouldn’t the Jessica Simpson Pizza Hut commercial be vastly more innuendo-laden had they left the tail end of the chorus for “These Boots…” intact? The boots will walk “all over you,” but you’re telling me Jessica Simpson singing that about molten cheese squeezed “all over you” in that commercial won’t move product? Please.

· Reason #729 that I’m glad to no longer be homebound – my kinetic watch went dead over my hospital stay, and somehow a full workday of swinging around on my arm isn’t enough to bring it back to a full charge. I’d sleep in the fucking thing if I thought that’d make a difference.

· It’s just my opinion, but my favorite Florida-based female poker blogger who sleeps with underaged hippies has to be Gracie.

· I’m still tossing around the idea of Louisville over Memorial Day weekend. Days at the track, nights at the casino… seriously, who’s in?

· Speaking of vacation, I’m sitting on twelve days to use this calendar year, and my ideal circumstance would be spending a Thursday/Friday/Monday/Tuesday long weekend in Vegas with everyone in December. I am officially declaring myself OUT of Vegas July for a couple of reasons. One, I have a small amount of guilt over having three weeks of off time due to my illness and recuperation so far this year and want to wait to spend my vacation. Two, money isn’t going to be a problem exactly, but I think I’d rather have one big gambling weekend than two small ones. Three, I have a summer project already in the early stages and I’m intent on seeing it through. And four, it’s fucking HOT in Vegas in July. I think a couple of smaller trips (Bash at the Boathouse, Memorial Day Louisville, possibly Bradoween) will fill the vacation gap this year instead of July in Vegas.

· I’m starting to get antsy about changing the design of both my blogs. I like the format now, don’t get me wrong. It’s easy enough on the eyes and not at all distracting. Just toying with the idea, I’m unlikely to make a move. If I did change though, I definitely don’t want one of those picture banners. Totally not my style.

· According to studies I just made up, I’m 63% more likely to get a crappy turkey sandwich in the cafeteria today than any of my other options. Men from 30-32 years old are backing the choice of flapjacks as a solid backup plan, an idea which is up 41% from yesterday. The ever-important “people who share my name” demographic has established laziness as the primary motivating factor behind the likely acquisition and consumption of turkey today, with doesn’t want to hit the ATM and frugality as the next most likely reasons behind my choice of lunch.

· I have my iPod and my headphones handy today, and my phone hasn’t rang in over three hours. Is it rude to pop one earbud in and listen to music in what is ostensibly a little downtime for me?

· Lastly, if you’re any fan at all of classic rock (the 60s/early 70s stuff, not Boston and the Eagles, more like Zeppelin and The Band), go here immediately and listen to “Vault Radio.” I wish I had $10K to blow in their vintage prints store too…

More later, if I get the itch…

Fixed Bloglines Feed For Horse Racing Blog

This should work for an RSS feed…

Over At From Off The Pace…

I’m putting two software handicappers against each other on Tampa’s card today. I’ll try to keep a running update as the afternoon progresses. By the way, strong spot plays on a couple of races, head on over to check it out.

Tuesday Tampa Test

It’s been awhile since I trotted CompuTrak out for a spin, but today we’ll take a different angle with CT.

BrisNet offers a free handicapping software called “All-Ways,” and were kind enough to kick three free race files my way for February. The software processes reports on a variety of angles, and they’re pretty daunting to look at. While I’m not confident I “figured out” the proper way to use the program, I did find the “Oddsline” report, which hopefully gives me the output needed to identify the appropriate odds on today’s card.

So it’s CompuTrak versus All-Ways in a steel cage match. Here’s the rundown:

· Race One – #9 Run Runaway gets 2/1 love from AW (4/1 on the morning line), with #8 Tokyo Tour behind at 4/1 (5/1 on the ML). CompuTrak declines to give a “CT Pick,” but also identifies #8 as a 7/2 play and #9 as a 4/1.

Result: Both hit #9 and #8, I played the exacta hitting for $30 when #9 made a good move from six lengths off around the final turn to pass the #8 and #5. AW actually produced the trifecta with the top three choices 9/8/5 from their oddsline. Hmm…

· Race Two – AW likes #10 Diamond Fire at 2/1 (6/1 on the ML), and #3 Windy Village at 5/2 (7/2 ML). CT wants you to look at #6 Misty Storm at 9/2 (15/1 ML), but AW puts her on the “Dangerous Non-Contender” list, whatever that means. CT likes #10 at 6.5/1.

AW’s third choice #12 took it, with #9 and #11 coming up for place and show. I had $12 on win bets and an exacta/trifecta attempt. Took the doughnut in this one.

· Race Three – AW really likes #5 Sea Doctor at 4/5 odds (5/2 ML), while CT disagrees with #8 Boston Raider at 6/5 (7/2 ML). AW does like #8 at 9/2 though.

#8 nowhere to be found after a rough start bounced him too far outside to get back into contention. #5 was beaten by AW’s third choice, #9. Another ofer here.

· Race Four – Major disagreement here as AW takes #6 Right Quick (6/1 ML) and drops him on the “Dangerous Non-Contender (DNC)” list, while CT makes him the first CT Pick of the day (with a 3/1 projected oddsline). AW likes #8 Honest Chance at 2/1 (5/2 ML), and #5 Montford Ridge at 3/1 (2/1 ML). CT doesn’t disagree much on #8, giving him 9/2 love.

So close. Had the #6, #7, #8 in exactas and trifectas, and I missed cashing the exacta when #3 passed #6 in the final strides to come in second. #6 and #8 rounded out the top tier. So close.

· Race Five – Strong Spot Play – I’m going to assume that any time the two software handicappers agree that we’re in good shape to make a play. Let’s jump all over #4 Sweet Hello, who AW likes at 4/5 and CT at 8/5 (ML 5/2). #6 is another AW play at 3/1 (6/1 ML).

Way off. #4 wasn’t a factor, laid way too far off the pace and couldn’t get up at the end. #6 was out of the money too.

· Race Six – AW likes #10 I’m A Goer at 5/2 (7/2 ML), but CT is willing to step out on a limb and make #8 Big OUt (6/1 ML) and #9 Charismatic Rob (10/1 ML) the co-CT Picks. The oddsline for both in CT were in the 6/1 neighborhood, so buyer beware. AW backs up the #10 with #2 King Cassia at 3/1 (5/2 ML).

#10 went off at 2/1, so I skipped him and he won. I played the dual CT Picks of #8 and #9 to no avail. At least I went cheap.

· Race Seven – Strong Spot Play – All #8 Call Me Glitter at 6/1 on the ML for both AW and CT. They both like her at 3/2, and who am I to disagree?

It’s officially a hemmorhage today, with #8 refusing to fire when asked in the stretch. She got passed about six times on her way to the back after an opening 22.47 quarter. You’d think that’d be slow enough for her stalking trip to leave her some juice, but apparently not. Had a WP bet and a pick four with her singled, all to shit. Whee!

· Race Eight – Strong Spot Play – Another agreement between the two, with #3 Classic Fran getting 9/5 love (3/1 ML) from AW and a 3/1 line in CT with the coveted CT Pick status. AW also likes #8 Divine Wonder at 9/2, which might be a nice score if she runs out from under her 12/1 ML.

#1 had the classic ground saving trip from the post and managed to squeeze between a pack of four and pull away for an easy win. #4 edged a pack of three or four to come in second and the #8 was nowhere to be found. Another miss, as the #1 went off at 3/2.

· Race Nine – #5 Sea Salt Run has another under-even money endorsement from AW at 3/5 (5/2 ML). CT doesn’t like him as much as #1 Our Manuscript, which is a 3/1 play (7/2 ML) and the CT Pick. #7 Matchless Ability is the next choice for both, but both give odds higher than the ML of 3/1.

#4 got out real frisky and had the field by six going into the final turn of the sprint. #5 (who I had keyed with 1/2/7 in an exacta) stayed close, but couldn’t get there. #7 made his move in the final turn and blew by #4 in the final strides. I can’t quit missing races today, I swear to god.

· Race Ten – More agreement here, although no CT Pick in the race. #8 Milky Way Guy is 5/2 on the ML, 5/2 in AW, and a ringing endorsement of 6/5 via CT. Not a whole lot else to look at, except maybe #5 Hitthegroundrunnin, who is 6/1 on the ML and 5/2 via CT.

#2 and #4 a neck apart – #4 Atticus Kristy set a track record of :55 flat edging #2 Western Kind for the win. Great race for both, but when are you going to see another 5F turf duel? Stupid computers, stupid software…

I’ll keep an eye on the card today, and we’ll see how good the robots can be.

Update

I’m drinking and smoking again, and with only very minor discomfort (the muscle tissue bubbles up a little on the scar for awhile, and it’s a little dry and itchy, but that’s it) I feel like I’m back to 100%. The day after the surgery I was up and walking around, and after that day I don’t think I ever really felt the “profound fatigue” about which the surgeon had warned me.

So physically I’m feeling good, and mentally I’m feeling even better. Had this happened to me during my marriage, this would have been an overwhelming financial catastrophe. I know that medical bills then would have quickly turned in to medical bill collection notices, and it would have been years before I had paid them off. Now? Thanks to the love and support from my friends (including those on this list, as well as Maudie, Joaquin, Bill Rini and Heafy – and I hope I didn’t miss anybody), I am writing checks to cover these bills without worry.

I think it’s tacky to tell you guys exactly how much money was contributed (although Rini did send a hammerriffic $27.72), but I can illustrate how much those contributions have eased the burden in general.

Since I know +/- $150 what the total damage is going to be, I can tell you that between the contributions, my health-care reimbursement dollars (truly out of my pocket, but a wash because I expected these dollars to be spent) and a (fairly hefty, but manageable) check I had written in early January, I expect that there will be no more than an additional $100 of my own money going towards my bills.

So, for the umpteenth time I want to tell you guys how much everything you’ve done has meant, and your willingness to help me achieve a peace of mind in the wake of this unpleasantness has been incredible, invaluable, and flat-out appreciated.

It may suck to write big checks in any case, but to do so with an ease and lack of consequence is awesome. Thank you all.