Long Time Coming

This weekend, the greater Philadelphia area was finally graced with the long overdue appearance of on Mr. Jacob Still.

After taking care of some family stuff on Friday, Jay drove out to my house on Saturday and we headed into the city. It was odd being back at Drexel, since it has been a good couple of months since I've been there. After parking on Summer St. and cautiously making our way through the quite safe Spring Garden area, we found our way to the Red Light District. For those of you who don't know, this is where Casa Bova resides and where, pretty much weekly, giant parties are thrown each weekend to the delight of drunk girls, horny guys, and money-making party hosts.

We walked up and there was the man himself, sitting patiently on the front porch, almost as if he'd been waiting for us to stop by for more than a year. After stopping inside and paying respects to Berrrrry, we the three men of greatness headed out into the our city once more.

All theatrics aside, it was a really good time. Like we had done many times freshmen year, we walked through campus, hopped onto the Blue Line, got off at 8th street, and headed down towards South. We talked about anything that had happened over the last year or so, informing each other of anything new or interesting that had occurred in our daily lives. After walking aimlessly around South St. for awhile, we headed to Pat's for a good old 'wiz. $10.75 later, we were heading back uptown and making our way to Drexel again.

Jay and I only got to stay for a couple of hours, but it was awesome to see Jacob again and just get back into the swing of things, as if no time had passed at all since we were all last together.

Hopefully it won't be his last visit, and hopefully I'll find myself down in Florida some time in the near future.

Small Man, Big Ideas

Since there isn't anything special to share, I thought that I would take some time to share a couple of, how should I say, "choice" stories with all of you. These are from the last week or so, and should give some of you a closer look into my personal universe, and for others . . .

. . . well, maybe you'll just get a good laugh.

The Caveman
Last week was the week of Warcraft, where Kent's computer was broke and Brett's was still refusing to properly install the game. I was sitting at the table directly next to Brett on my laptop playing, and he was trying to make some money online. So I look over just in time to see that Brett has lost $200 of his small roll when his pocket tens got beat when pocket nines flopped a set. For what would be the most brief of times, he was actually somewhat calm and silent. After quietly describing to a shirtless Kent what happened, the eruption finally happened. Brett grabs his keyboard, swings it just inches from my face, and with all the force he can muster with the aid of gravity, begins to bash the shit out of his monitor. Whatever sanity he had left led him to focus on the hard corner of the box, which did little damage to the screen but enacted heavy damage on the blunt object in his grasp. As Kent thinks that he hears glass breaking and turns around, I am literally showered with keys from his keyboard. They lightly pelt my face, some even going down the back of my shirt.

When the dust finally settles, Brett is storming off to his room, Kent and myself are paralyzed in awe, and the keyboard was on life support. When Kent finally peers over the computer to see not broken glass and a serious problem, but a key-less keyboard and a debris field of buttons, we both lost it. For awhile we tried to hold in the laughter out of fear of Brett's rage resurfacing, but when he returned with a smirk on his face, all bets were off.

Facial Hair of Insanity
Kent is ridiculous. First he refuses to come out and shoot some pool even though he has no computer and, therefore, nothing to do. Then, he reveals to us that he's never been able to understand why all these foreigners in the U.S. are so concerned about getting a Visa card, which he thought was just a credit card. Later on Sunday night, with Keyur wanting to see when the next train comes through and me stopping by to check my account since I was kind enough to leave my computer at Kent's so he could use it for another day, Kent finishes up a quest on WoW and then ACTUALLY STARTS A NEW ONE. This of course led to us having to wait another two hours, which made me aggravated and Keyur miss his train into the city.

But it is his heroic antics from Saturday he will be remembered for here.

The $100 NL cash game fell through after a few no-shows, so with only four of us, we played a quick little $10 tournament just to kill some time. Then came the hand of manliness. Brett calls from the SB and sees Kent raise him preflop. Not being one to lay down here and wanting to play his suited connector, he calls. Then the flop comes with a small pair on the board and two clubs. Brett bets out 600, more than double the size of the pot and effectively committing himself to a raise. Sensing the same overbetting-to-take feel of this enormous bet, the bearded wonder comes to a startling conclusion: not only does he KNOW that Brett has nothing, but he also thinks that he can make Brett fold if he raises. So Kent goes all-in, and what do our lovely little boys have after the call from Brett???

5-2 of clubs against Q-2 off. Keyur and I are on the floor in hysterics as the board pairs again on the turn, giving Brett multiple outs to chop. Unfortunately, from a humor standpoint, a queen hit on the river, giving Kent a better two pair. I personally would have liked to have seen Q high hold up for what was essentially the tournament at that point.

Sherpa with a Dream
Keyur reminds me why I love foreigners. Everybody knows one of these guys. They are always looking for that quick money scheme, that plan that is gonna turn them into the next young "I made it on my own" millionaire. When he boasted that Kent should make him a partner in his rakeback operation, Kent asked him what kind of ideas he had.

Here is the outline of his master plan:

Buy a house in the city ( you know, since we can all just "buy" a $250K + property in the middle of the city as college students). Then, let about twenty or so kids from Drexel live there and don't charge rent. So now you're wondering "how can you make money by letting people live in your house that you just bought for free?" Simple. Mold them into an online poker-playing army that does your bidding. After all, all you have to do is teach them how to always win at poker, bankroll them on top of paying for their living expenses, accept all losses, make sure they play at least 4 hours a day and make at least $8 an hour . . . and let the money roll in.

LoL. This was my favorite part of the weekend. What made us laugh at him even more was that he made it seem like financing a poker army while in college and strapped for cash is a much easier venture then trying to get people to sign up under your affiliate account for rakeback deals.

I'm waiting on a good one for some others. Cross your T's and dot your I's Jay.

Respect

Everyone wants it, many demand it. You can hardly watch an episode of ESPN's SportCenter without hearing about someone who doesn't think they get enough respect. People, for the most part, want to be recognized by others as worthy and meaningful in many social scenarios.

I'm a big respect person. I've come to expect it from people because it's something I always try to give to others. Honesty with people and loyalty, two things that are very high up on my list of essentials, basically stem from how much respect you give to people and how much you get in return.

So you can imagine how..... let's say..... 'upset' I can get when I feel that I am being purposely and systematically disrespected. Sitting at lunch last Thursday, some coworkers started to randomly rant on about politics (you can probably see the flashing lights and medic units that lie ahead). I happened to mention that I disagreed with one of their statements, and a political "discussion" ensued. I use "discussion" lightly because, while I was trying to make intelligent and relevant points, my "opponent" did little arguing. Instead, he felt that discrediting the validity of my statements, openly mocking me and trying to make elaborate mind traps in order to fool me into admitting defeat were more appropriate tactics. I really didn't appreciate it and felt that he fell far short of what his intelligence should achieve.

But OK, whatever, from a group of people who are ridiculously liberal (to the point that its almost as scary as right-wing bible beaters), I guess I should expect that. Move on in life and forget about it. Then Friday rolls around, and the same opponent, whose name is Pete by the way, is sitting at the table again. Two others are there when the Big Boss of work sits down and inquires about some new 401K plan they are now offering. Pete is explaining what it is when, without warning, he makes reference to "his taxes not going to a pointless war in Iraq and Bush's' pockets." I'm not an idiot people, I knew immediately what the intent of this statement was: he was purposely making a comment to get under my skin. Here's a guy, a lanky Canadian of my height and possibly 75% of my weight, trying again to make me out to be a fool.

So that day, I email him, basically outlining how I didn't appreciate his unprovoked comments because I knew of his motives as outlined above. He then responds, and in the process of "indulging" my need to "e-debate", he hardly apologizes and, if anything, makes it seem as if my problems were my creation and nothing more.

Now I'm fucking furious. Indulge? INDULGE?!?!?!!??! Fuck You Buddy!

That's what I wanted to say, and maybe give him a swift roundhouse kick to the face. I sent him a response laden with sarcasm and practically bulleted points, trying to point out the audacity of his statements and put him in his place for once. I don't need a platform in front of coworkers like he does, I'll at least keep it private.

Officially, this guy is on my shit list. And you can get on there too! OK, that's extreme, but not too far off. Society is built upon the foundation of respect. If there is anything I can stress to people, it's respect. Do you have to respect everything someone does? Hell no. But when it comes to personal opinions, or beliefs, or someone's humanity in general, you should and must show respect. Don't be a fucking tard like my good friend Pete here, who goes through life trying to diminish the ideas of others in order to serve some egotistical agenda.

A Singularity

Nothing. That's right, nothing.

Think about this term and what it means. An absolute void, absence of anything...... nothing.

Now apply that to this past week.

Presto! That's the summation of this entry. Huzzah!

This weekend broke the trend of the past for the worse. Friday went as usual, a drowsy rendevous at Kent's place. He actually fell asleep at like 10 pm, leaving me and Brett to just sit around and yawn for another few hours.

Saturday was probably even more boring. Jay lucked out and fell ass-backwards into Flyers tickets, and being that it was a day game, no billiards occurred. Eventually I went to eat at Ruby Tuesday's, and then headed over to Kent's with my computer in hand. You see, Kent called Dell and had them come out on Thursday to fix his backspace key and ethernet, a request that bit him in the ass as the Dell Guru fucked up and officially put Kent's computer on life support. Without his laptop working, and with Brett unable to install WoW on his computer (despite trying over 40 times to my approximation.... LITERALLY), in steps John the Destroyer to the rescue.

WoW continued into the night before I finally headed home with computer in hand, to the chagrin of Kent and Brett who wanted to negotiate the property rights over night.

Sunday had some pretty good football finally. The Colts got pwnd by the Steelers, although the score would suggest a closer game then it truly was. Carolina won, as I expected, even though I am surprised that Chicago scored more than 17 points and yet lost. Being that the Eagles situation mirrors that of Carolina recently, I'm rooting for the Panthers to go all the way.

Traveling the Worn Path

While traveling the road of life, one can't help but notice the patterns that we fall into. It goes above just a daily ritual, because if you take a second to look you normally will find that even in the process of a week, the same situations and scenarios will consistently occur.

This week turned into one of those very same regularly-scheduled programs.

New Years graced me with an extended weekend, which was great in that the work week was therefore shorter. I'll take four days of work over five days of work anytime. The one problem was that I got very little sleep all week, and would just mope around like a zombie from being so damn tired. I got so much sleep on my day off on Monday that I couldn't fall asleep at a good time for the first day of work, then the Penn State game went late on Tuesday night, and finally on Wednesday night the championship game between Texas and USC.

So I stumbled into the weekend anxious not only for a chance to sleep late, but to break the monotony and actually do something stimulating. Friday I went to hang out with Kent and Brett, and was treated to the surprise of Rach coming down for the weekend. Not much really happened, just your standard night of hanging out and chilling. I did get to gain control of the TV long enough to watch the Flyers game, who won a good one against Washington to pull ahead to first in the conference AND in the entire fucking NHL. I'll tell you a secret..... those guys are pretty good.

Saturday is when the "action" happened. Went to play pool, which went fantastic. And by the word "fantastic," I actually mean "horrible." Just wasn't shooting the ball well at all. We have tried to move more to 9-ball, and actually played only that on Saturday, but our poor play went beyond getting used to a new game. It was definitely and unfortunate swing from how I played last weekend, so I guess I have some work to do next weekend to get back to form.

Then last night was the big $50 max buy in poker game at Kent's. The starting lineup included Ladies-Man Abel, Keyur "The Professor" Patel, Big Brett, King of Men, Tegatron 4000, and some guy named Dan. I won't get into much detail about specific hands, but will say that while I was getting decent cards, I also think I played them very well. I lost the first hand of the night when Kent used his skills at cheating to get himself pocket Aces while I had top pair of Kings. I lost about $24 right off the bat, re-bought an extra $20 to have a good starting stack again, and then proceeded to win many big pots. Trips against Abel, then a pot against Kent when I bet my pair and flush draw and hit, I got Keyur to lay down a straight when the flush was on the board (although this was bad for me because if he called I would have hit my quads on the river), and I also got him to fly all in when I had the nuts.

However the night was not without heartache. In for $70 and up to about $350 on the table, I lost a monster pot to Kent late in the night that doubled him up and knocked me down to a $60 profit for the night. Kent had been winning many pots in the night, admittedly, by bluffing. He was moving over the top of people and raising with nothing because of the cold cards he was getting. So when it was 4 handed, and I was holding KK after raising, I just couldn't convince myself that, on a board with disconnected and unsuited low cards, that Kent actually had a hand. When he bet all-in for 43 on the river and showed down trip eights, it was a pretty tough blow for me to take. I can't be too mad: after all, most people were down that night and I still left with a decent profit. But knowing that I could have left up at least two hundred dollars, and that I probably could have folded on the turn and saved myself a hundred....... well, I wasn't very happy for a good portion of time.

I played for about 5 hours and left around 1:30. After sleeping in today, I watched some football games and just chilled around the house.

So if you weren't paying attention, the standard pattern is: work during the week, hang out at Kent's on Friday, play pool Saturday morning, do some activity Saturday night, sleep late Sunday and just hang around in my pajamas and watch football.

Not a bad pattern if I do say so myself. Now if only I could add "bangs a hot chick" somewhere in there, I'd be happy as a clam.

Who Am I?

Stupid post but passing on the entertainment.

Check this out....

... and see who you are most like. (I also scored the "Bill Clinton" the first time, lol)



Not much else going on right now. New Year's went well in Jersey, not much to report on there. Pool earlier that day went very well, as I was shooting at about 83% and playing 9-ball fairly well.

Slept the rest of the weekend, something I plan to do again shortly.

Hopefully I'll have something better to talk about next time.