Read MoreHow do you go out to two separate dinners at two different restaurants and still end up starving at night’s end?
Well, it happened to me tonight in the industrial garden spot of Hammond, Indiana — which is right across the Illinois-Indiana border, outside of Chicago.
A few days ago, I lost everything I have ever written.
Every article — gone.
Every draft — gone.
Two half-completed books — gone.
Hundreds of World Series of Poker official reports — gone.
Thousands of personal photographs — gone.
Basically, everything I’m now working on or have nearly completed as a writer — gone.
So, what happened?
My laptop was stolen.
After spending 24 hours crying and another 48 hours throwing up, my next instinct was to write about the pain this has caused. Even as I sit here now, three days removed from the loss, words cannot express what comes from being severed forever from the emotional reactions I had to different things over the years that were reflected in those very heartfelt writings.
When I felt happy, I usually wrote about it. When I felt sad, I usually wrote about it. And, when I felt angry, I almost always wrote about it. That laptop was a basket case of emotional bedlam.
And now, it’s gone, likely transformed into little more than back-alley barter for the next $50 fix.
Read More
The following interview was conducted on September 30, 2012, in front of the Hotel La Majestic Barriere in Cannes, France. Swedish writer and journalist Rikard Aberg is one of the game’s most inquisitive interviewers, as can be seen in this exchange.
I like Aberg’s style which is largely conversational. He asks about several subjects — including health and fitness, goals and aspirations, Stu Ungar, and of course — the future of WSOP Europe.
These videos — of myself, Jennifer Tilly, Phil Hellmuth, Steve Dannenman, Brandon Cantu, and others are posted at a Swedish-language site. They will also be available at PokerTube shortly.
This video runs for about 17 minutes.
Read More
How did this happen?
Look at this mattress!
Disgusting!
The photo above shows the king-sized bed in my hotel room, in Cannes, France.
Here’s a closer look:
I know what you’re thinking. You’re horrified. You find me repulsive.
Well, it’s not what you think.
There’s a story here, and if you’ve read this far, you’re going to hear every sleazy detail.
I got out of bed this morning at 9 am sharp. As I was getting dressed, I looked back at the bed and saw this appalling sight.
Imagine the horror.
But the odor wasn’t quite what I expected. In fact, the odor was quite pleasant.
Has your revulsion meter hit overdrive yet? I’ll pause a moment and give you a chance to run to the bathroom and vomit.
I had smelled this familiar odor before. Many times. And, it wasn’t just coming from the sheets. I looked down. It was also all over my body, especially my backside. I was covered in brown.
What was this odd brown substance?
You guessed it.
Chocolate.
Reminiscent to the famous scene in The Godfather where the evil movie producer wakes up with what appears to be a bloody nose, only to find his prize mare’s head splattered all over his silk sheets, my worst possible fears turned out to be little more than a mangled and molested confectionary treat.
But now, there’s an even bigger mystery. I don’t remember eating chocolate in bed last night. So, how did it get there?
The only logical explanation seems to be that the maid somehow left some chocolates on the bed when she cleaned my room the previous day. Was she munching on a candy bar? Did she set the chocolate down and then forget about it? Or, were there chocolates on the pillow as some fancy hotels do — and did I stumble in at 3 am last night, rumble under the sheets, and proceed to pulverize a couple of pieces of chocolate candy?
I don’t know.
What I do know, however, is that with no help from the useless “shower” in my bathroom, it took me ten minutes to wash the chocolate out of my ass.
Read More
Americans aren’t going to like what I’m about to say. But the French do a lot of things much better than we do.
The French are better at cooking. They make more time to celebrate life. Their culture exudes extraordinary art and architecture. Even their dogs have it much better than their American counterparts — as canines are taken everywhere including airports, restaurants, and even fancy hotels.
Read More
Marieta Dalla
Don Rieck
E.Dieter Martin
Dutch Boyd
Rich Korbin
Tiger123
Anonymous Eccentric
Kevin Un
Melissa Hayden
Todd Anderson
Stevan Goldman
Charlie Ciresi
Eric Schneller
Tanya Devenport
Peter Secor
Roger Rodd
Scott Wilson
Gareth Edwards
Shawn Rice
Billy the Greek
Linda Keenan
Sue Schneider
Tom Oldcroft
