Vegas Eve

20. Don't get rolled by a hooker.
-Pauly

Though there are any number of shameful things that can be said about my recent past involving bloggers and the city of Las Vegas, including extreme tilt, the near-destruction of my car engine, and multiple-day drug benders, none is more humiliating than the crown I wear as the blogger who came the closest to violating Rule #20.

It can happen to anyone. Even a sweet blonde girl from California. Drink enough double Socos and next thing you know, you're in a cab sandwiched between two big black hookers with no control over (a) your motor functions or (b) the words coming out of your mouth. Hookers are crafty, wily bitches, so just steer clear of them altogether if you can. But if you do find yourself in the back of a vehicle with one, please make sure you know the whereabouts of your wallet or purse at all times.

* * * * * *
Pauly and I spent a mellow weekend in L.A. On Saturday we drove up to Malibu and stopped at Topanga State Beach in the late afternoon. Just as we got home, the USC-UCLA game was ending and my jaw dropped to the floor when I saw that UCLA was up by 4 with less than a minute to go in the 4th. I imagined every bar in Westwood literally exploding with joy as Bruin fans rushed the field at the Rose Bowl and the Trojans dragged themselves back to the locker room with any hopes of a national title erased. What can I say? I'm still smarting from that 1996 Rose Bowl game that my Northwestern Wildcats dropped to those pompous snooty fucks.

The next day, right before taking in a matinee of Bobby at the Grove, I got Pauly to do the right thing and spend invest $100 in a quality pair of hipster jeans. I dragged him into the Lucky Brand Jeans store and before he could make a move for the door, I had him whisked into a dressing room with half a dozen different styles and washes-- everything from a relaxed fit bootcut to one pair straight out of Marco Traniello's closet. He took to a dark, straight-leg cut and both the salesgirl and I nodded in approval. Total selection time? Less than 10 minutes.

"So, what are you doing later?" the waify clerk with dark eye makeup asked Pauly as he forked over his credit card. My jaw hit the floor and I dropped the buttery leather purse I was fondling.

"I'm gonna go get high and write" was his bone-dry reply.

"Good to see you're getting your shit done" she said with a smile.

I walked out of the store on 20% tilt. 10% for the flirty salesclerk, 10% for the buttery leather purse I can't afford.

* * * * * *
In terms of game selection and variety, the poker I've played in the last week has been all over the map. I booked a couple more final tables in those 90-player SNGs on Full Tilt and I've been sucking down triple draw on Stars like a loaded bong. I'm up 200 bets in a limit game on Full Tilt that is so juicy I'm afraid to talk about it and jinx myself. I'll be arriving in Vegas tomorrow however, with people more on the brain than poker, so look for me more at the bar than at the tables this weekend. Though I will definitely be playing the tourney and attempting to chase back-to-back WPBT final tables ;)

May your travels be safe, my friends. See you in the City of Sin.