I just saw Phil Gordon's Hooters Hold'em commercial. Wow. His stock just dropped WAY down for me. I can't even imagine the shit the Tiltboys, not to mention his Canadian girlfriend are giving him for it. Don't get me wrong, he's still dreamy. But sheesh, selling out to a titty-themed corporate wing joint-turned-casino? On the other hand, the new Full Tilt TV spots are pretty great. I love the Lederer/Seidel one with Erik's seven clanking bracelets.
I cleaned out my entire office this weekend in just under three hours. I threw almost everything out and carried home the balance in four bankers boxes that are still in the backseat of my car. I don't even know what most of it is and I have to bulldoze away some space for it in the corner of my bedroom that is about to become a makeshift office. I've been writing a lot this week, but in random locations around the apartment. The dining room table. In my bed. But primarily, on the couch in the living room while exploring the wasteland of American Daytime Television.
I was sorely disappointed to discover that the cable reruns of Dawson's Creek that used to soothe me on sick days had been replaced by a slew of bad Warner Brothers movies from the late 90's. Without my Capeside fix to get me through the morning, I turned instead to jewels like The Maury Povich Show which featured a "reformed" teen bad-girl on a return visit to the show, her whoary garb of the past replaced by a demure cardigan and slacks. Maury explained that our little Lolita was about to find out if a certain pimply skater-looking boy was indeed the father of her now 3-year old daughter. AND that he was the 15th guy they had tested! God Bless America.
So being unemployed is sort of fun for now. I've always wondered who those people walking around L.A. in the middle of the day, sitting in cafes and shopping and going to 1 PM movies were. Now I'm one of them. I'm certainly in the right habitat for it. I've heard Showcase audibly growl at me in jealousy as he trudges off to his day job each morning.
Pauly is on a plane right now, on his way here. What a way to start off a couple of months of freedom than a two-week stretch of degeneracy with the good doctor, huh? I'm going to make him a lasagna. And maybe some cookies. I think he was a little cross with me last night when I doubled through him on a donkey $50 NL table on Poker Stars. He limped and I raised preflop with 88. I'd been raising a lot of pots and had just doubled through on another poor soul, so I had a bit of a maniac image. The flop came JJT. Pauly bet close to the pot and I raised. Then he pushed all in. I called in a shot. I just knew I had him-- he wanted to push me off the hand and show his two threes, but I was so sure I had him.
"How the fuck do you call there?" he wrote.
"'Cause I knew I had u beat ;) "
He got his revenge and doubled back through me later on with an ace high flush vs. my king high flush. We both left up a couple of buy-ins. I'll take it. I've been subscribing to the hit & run theory lately, and it's been working so far.
That's all for now. I have a tomato sauce to make.