Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Sandwiches.

I just went down to the cafeteria to get a sandwich.

Me: "Can I have a chicken breast sandwich on wheat, please?"

Sandwich making lady: "Chicken breast on wheat?"

Me: "Yeah."

Sandwich making lady: "Would you like it toasted?"

Me: "No thanks."

Sandwich making lady: "Mayonaisse?"

Me: "Can I have the chiptotle mayonaisse?"

Sandwich making lady: "Chipotle mayo?"

Me: "Yeah."

Sandwich making lady: "Lettuce and tomato?"

Me: "Yes, please."

Sandwich making lady: "Cheese?"

Me: "No thanks."

Sandwich making lady: "Would you like a pickle and chips?"

Me: "Can I have carrots instead of chips?"

Sandwich making lady: "Pickle and carrots?"

Me: "Yeah."

Sandwich making lady: "Anything else?"

Me: "No, that's it."

Sandwich making lady: "Thank you. Enjoy."

Me: "You too."

Friday, April 07, 2006

Soda(pop).

Our house was completely devoid of flavored diet carbonated beverages and my body was starting to go into withdrawals, so I strolled on down to the local Walgreen's to get my fix. When I arrived there I heard the most glorious news: Dr. Pepper products: three 12-packs for $3. Oh happy day. That's like 8 cents a can. It turns out it was 3 for $8 with a $5 mail-in rebate. A mail-in rebate on pop. Awesome. After taxes and postage this purchase will total about 10 cents a can. Sweet.

I'm sure glad I'm addicted to something that is easily attainable and available in countless flavors. If I was addicted to crack I wouldn't be able to just grab a crack-pack from a vending machine for 65 cents. Nope, I would have to know the right people and pay a super huge premium and probably have to toss a few salads along the way to satisfy my addiction. And even after all that I still would only be able to get plain old crack. No lemon-lime crack or caffiene-free crack or diet cherry vanilla crack. Just original classic edition.

So it's good to be addicted to diet soda. Sure, I'll be sorry when I'm 50 and I have a Diet Pepsi tumor the size of a soccer ball on my ass, but I'm not going to worry about that now. I just gotta live life for today, man.

You know what else is funny about soda? I won't buy it at the grocery store unless it is on sale. A 24-pack is typically 6.99, but I won't buy one unless it is on sale for 4.99 or less. However, I won't hesitate to drop 65 cents on single can from a machine. (24 * .65) = 15.60. I make no sense. I won't pay 6.99, but I'll happily pay twice that.

65 cents a can. Remember when every machine had it for 50 cents a can? If you saw a machine for less then 50 cents you thought: "Sweet! Less than 50 cents!" And if you saw if for more than .50, you thought: "Fuckin' ripoff." Those days of the 50 cent standard were interesting times, I must say. They seemed to last forever, too. It has only been in the past few years that the prices have increased. I remember thinking around the turn of the century: "Damn, pop has been 50 cents forever. I wonder what has caused the price to remain static in this market for so many years?" I never did figure that one out. Not that I put any effort towards trying to figure it out, I just found it odd.

Notice how I used the words "pop" and "soda" interchangeably? The stupidest argument in the history of the universe is the "pop vs. soda" argument:

Dumbass #1: "Durrr, it's called 'pop' you dumbass!"
Dumbass #2: "NO, you ASSHOLE! It's called 'SODA!' You SUCK!"

I don't understand why people are so passionate about what they call carbonated beverages. There are things called synonyms. I don't see people flipping out over whether to call it a "sofa" or a "couch."

I must admit, I used to be a staunch supporter of the word "pop." Then on the first night of college I saw two people having the "pop vs. soda" argument and I thought: "That is the most retarded, pointless, waste of energy I have ever seen. I shall now embrace both words equally."

I just looked up the "staunch" in the dictionary. I used it correctly.

I got one 12-pack of Diet 7-Up, one of Diet Dr. Pepper, and one of Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper.

The Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper says "Soda Fountain Classics" on it. Oh hell yeah. I remember when I was a little kid. On Sunday afternoons Dad would take us all to the soda fountain and order us up some Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Peppers. Those were good times.

By the way, what the hell is this?:



It must not be available in my market yet. The barrage of choices never ceases. About three years ago we went to Paris. That was the first time I was in Europe. There was only one choice. It was some crap called Coke Light and it cost about €4 per can. At that moment I learned to take nothing for granted.

Pop is good.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

More poker. Sorry.


This is me finishing 92nd out of 93 in last night's blogger satellite for a $1,500 WSOP buy-in:



I donked off my chips in the first two hands I played, both in the first orbit. I didn't make a single correct play. Part of this might have been due to the fact that it was an ultra-deep stack tourney and I didn't want to be there for 7 hours. We started with blinds of 10/20, 30-minute levels, and 5,000(!) chips. I'm not a very patient guy and knew this thing was going to take all night when I saw the structure.

Also, only the first two spots paid, so I got the same prize as the guy who played for 6+ hours and got 3rd.

That doesn't change the fact that I played like ass.

I don't know if I will play another one of these. I know a lot of people like the long levels and huge starting stack because it allows for a lot more play and luck plays less of a factor, but that was just ridiculous. If I had actually been in the tournament longer than 4 minutes I imagine it would have been like watching paint dry. Also, I suck, and I need all the luck I can get.

In other poker news, I lost most of this past weekends winnings as expected. I cashed out just so I could cash out ahead. I did earn enough frequent player points to get this sweet duffel bag, though:



In 4-6 weeks my gym clothes will get transported to the gym in style.

People will see my duffel bag and be all: "Is that right?"

And I will be all: "That's right, bitch. Team Pokerstars. Eat it."

And they will be all: "You play internet poker. Why the hell would you want to advertise this fact with your duffel bag?"

And I will be all: "I like strawberries."

And they will be all: "I also like strawberries."

Have a nice day, please. Sorry for writing about poker two days in row.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Drunken poking and running and stuff.

I haven't really been playing any poker at all lately, but this past weekend I got the itch and deposited $50 into PokerStars. After about 30 minutes I was down to $7 and it looked like my session would be short-lived. That was not the case, however. I was able to milk that $7 for all it was worth and I actually worked it up to a few hundred. Yay, me.

I played a bunch of low-limit 6-max games. The standard collection of loose-passives that used to populate these games appears to have been mostly replaced by tight-passives that have read "Winning Low Limit Hold 'Em" by Lee Jones, with a couple loose-aggressives mixed in. It was easy to tell who these LAGs were because they all had names like "FishyMcDonk" and "DonkeyFish." You're not fooling anyone, FishyMcDonk. It was a fun time and I did win a couple hundred bucks, which I plan on losing this week.

Saturday night we weren't doing anything and I decided to start drinking while I was playing. I don't know yet if that's a good idea. I pounded some white russians (should the "russian" in "white russian" be capitalized?) while I played virtual cards. As I slowly got more intoxicated I couldn't sit still, so I grabbed Ms. Brick and took her to the only bar that is within walking distance of our house.

We proceeded to eat fries and drink Woodchucks. Actually, I was the only one drinking Woodchucks. It was fun.

We had to leave pretty early (before midnight is early) because the next day we had to go downtown to run the Clover Trot 8K.

It was a good run, even though it was cold and gross outside. Also, I wasn't prepared as well as I would have liked, and Ms. Brick beat me by 76 seconds:



She is the official Clover Trot champion of our house. I will now hang my head in shame.

When we got home, I logged on to Pokerstars. It had $120 more than I remember. Maybe I play really good when I go on drunk auto-pilot. Maybe I just got good cards that played themselves. Who knows.

I also decided to start my quest for the WSOP. I entered a $2 turbo re-buy satellite and won a $33 buy-in into the next satellite. The bracelet is mine.

My poker playing on Sunday concluded with this hand, which only proves that I kick-ass at poker and no one can beat me:



I rule.