I repost here Beeline's Vegas summary. It is something he has done for as long as I can remember the trip happening, and I look forward to it almost as much as the trip itself. This year's is actually his worst effort, but still pretty funny in places.
He clearly didn't want to do, and my synopsis is predictably lame.
So here's another point of view of the trip:
Eat it, suckwads.
Why the hell am I still doing this? I am the king of the Vega$ trip, being the only 100% participant and all. One of my bitches (that's you) should be secretary.
But, alas, as I was the only person in Vega$ for some of the trip, I suppose it makes sense anyway.
Wednesday:
I, Beeline, Vega$ Royalty, gets into town around noon. The usual for a business trip such as this: limo at the airport, comped room at Bellagio, the works. Then, it was time to get to work. The personal high stakes Casino War table was waiting.
Me: Three, Dealer: Four. fuck.
Me: Jack, Dealer: ACE. FUCK.
Me: King, Dealer: Jack. win. finally.
Me: Ten, Dealer: Ten. WAR.
Three cards burned.
Me: Ace, Dealer: King. YEAH.
Me: Five, Dealer: Five. WAR. It is ON!
Three cards burned.
me: Five, Dealer: Two. HELL YEAH.
90 minutes later, $47k up, it was time for a pedicure.
Next up, after an excellent dinner, complementary of course, at Picasso (the truffle crusted lamb roti was to DIE for), it was off to hit the Wynn with my good buddy Dominic "The Dominator" Loriggio to roll in some cash at the craps table. Dom was up to his usual tricks, and we combined for $64k up before we were asked to leave. $38k in one roll!
Afterward, we hit a club which I cannot name due to its exclusive nature (ie, you will never go there) and were fed cocktails, snorted blow, and got lap dances from Vega$' finest ladies. We met some Chinese energy reps and got a great in on raping the pristine Chinese landscape for pennies on the dollar - signed the proposal right on Candy's bare backside. I do deals.
To top it off, I didn't have to use my AK.
Thursday:
I woke up at like 6 PM. Apparently a bunch of you got into town and played poker over the course of the day, blah blah blah. Don't care, don't care, don't care.
Friday:
Morning: Binions circle jerk. Dale got into town, rented a car, drove out into the desert, and pissed on a cactus.
5PM, Beeline arrives. Dug, Darren, and Dale (in 3D, yo!) pick him up at the airport, then head down to the Strip to drop the car off and start the sports book adventure necessitated by TI getting the gay and trashing their sports book at replacing it with an empty nightclub. The summary of this side trip: 19 miles of walking to pick the Mirage, which is 10 feet from TI. Fantastic. Along the way, Darren placed a total of like 9 bets on the CSU/New Mexico game alone, the net turning out to be $35 up and a 3 mile walk from the Mirage to Mandalay Bay to collect it. Bravo!
On to meeting everyone downtown and meeting up with the rest, everybody playing poker at Binions and getting the group room comps w00T! Then, to the brewpub in Main Street Station. a few items of note here:
- There were two publically pregnant people in the group, with a total of 4 kids
- Chris told the story of how the stock market is a house of cards that is going to collapse at any minute, referring to the email he STILL has not sent to Beeline.
- Our waitress with the lazy eye was clearly smitten with C. As we were walking out, she stated that she saw his mustache and thought he might be able to do something thpecial with her hair at the high end boutique he surely works at.
- Everyone was talking, Beeline said something, and C fired a high volume snot rocket right onto (not into, onto the glass, right by the brim) his beer. It was, needless to say, not attractive. To his credit, he parlayed it into a free, fresh beer, for something that was CLEARLY his fault. The waitress must have thought that she might get some free product with her salon service in exchange for this beer or something, because there is no other plausible reason he would get a new beer. What a playuh...
Then, football picks and sleep for the footballers and poker for the pokers. Except Joel, who should be commended for being a complete warrior and straddling the line, poking and footballing both.
Saturday:
Footballers up early, pokers to bed. Darren, Tom, Joel, Dale, and Beeline get to the Mirage sportsbook early (Darren REALLY early) and secure high quality seats near the back of the book, well inside the free drink zone but far enough away to minimize neck pain from looking straight up at the 6 glorious big screen TVs on the wall. Everybody gets locked on Pissconsin.
What follows is a very brief summary of the bloodletting that ensued...
- Pissconsin (-21), up by 17 in the 4th, has 4th & 1 on the Illinois 20. Their stud RB, who at this point has like 160 yards and 4 TDs, stands on the sideline as his lame backup gets stuffed. Illinois marches down the field for a TD. First play after Pissconsin gets the ball back, 60 yard TD by said stud RB. Thanks Barry. Never bet on the Badgers. Beeline wanted to punch the Madison native sitting next to him.
- UTEP (-19) up 28-10 at the half at Rice, barely wins. RICE.
- Colorado (-8.5) dominates the first half and lays an egg in the 2nd to barely beat K State.
- Texas (-36), unbeaten ATS, is DOWN 28-12 at the half before destroying Okie St (but not covering, of course).
- The Huskers (-2) get annihilated, though Tom was the only dumbass stupid enough to bet on them.
- Etc.
During this absolute bloodbath, Darren ran off a few pounds running up to the counter to bet virtually every single halftime bet that was available. It was pretty funny in the context of his previous month of emails stating that he was "going to make my picks by Wednesday based upon these rules, {...} and then STICK TO THEM!" BTW, nowhere in {...} did it state "(4) Have action on EVERY SINGLE GAME" or "(7) bet EVERY SINGLE halftime bet", or "(3) any bet good enough to bet is good enough to parlay on another ticket!"...
Tom tried to convince Beeline that Michael Cricton is full of shit. Shyeah, right. Stick with Cali, you FUCKING HIPPIE! True story, Tom has 17 times as many lightbulbs in his house as Beeline...
Everybody lost. Lose, lose, lose! Pissconsin costs Darren something like $7500, which cost the rest of the crowd lobster and free rooms. Fucking Alvarez. We even sat around until the bitter end, because there were a couple of outstanding tickets on TCU (-7.5), last game of the day. They gave up a TD with 44 seconds remaining to not cover. noose.com.
Dug, C, and Chris weren't watching football, and Dave was in and out. Read all about the blowjob poker woman in C and Dave's lame blogs.
Everybody then headed downtown, except Tom and Darren took that aforementioned $35 walk to Mandalay Bay down there in Phoenix before heading downtown and going to bed. Dinner was at some Mexican place at the end of Fremont Street, which was actually quite good. Chris and C got their magaritas blended, locked pinkies while they drank them, then got down and rogered each other right there in the beer garden.
Finally, it was time for Beeline to play some poker. Doug headed off to play blackjack instead, I think, and finish his up trip down. Beeline shat 4 times before heading down to the poker table, where Dave, Darren, Chris and C were already playing poker. Chris was on a different table for some reason, but he was probably pretty lucky, as we shall soon see.
Notable early hands that I remember:
- It was at this table Dave got his aces cracked. I don't remember the hand, but it was pretty funny.
- Darren was buying pot after pot, and got into a pot heads up with a queen high flush with 4-7-8h on the board. I did not know this, but apparently there is no raise cap there when head's up, so on the river there were probably 8 raises just on the river before Darren just called, and the guy turned over 5-6h for a straight flush. Brutal.
Then, Sarge showed up. This red haired goon from, presumably, Camp Pendleton (said he was a marine based in San Diego) was a total loudmouth dickhead who slowed the table down to a c-r-a-w-l and broke virtually every poker rule in the book in the process. I believe Chris' table got an entire orbit in the time it took the other table to complete one hand. Luckily, when he showed up, the table really lightened up on his side as all of the chips found their way down to the side inhabited by Beeline and C. I mean, even the guy between them, who cashed in 3 separate times for more chips in the first hour Beeline was there had a big stack of chips almost instantly.
Then, Ben Johnson showed up. Ben Johnson was dressed in a Greg Norman line golf shirt, a Titleist hat, claimed to be a pro golfer (Nationwide tour, unsubstantiated), and was drunk as hell. Ben took an immediate dislike to Sarge, and they went at it the rest of the night (at least until Ben got kicked out and Sarge slinked away...). Choice tidbits of conversation:
- the felony bit
Sarge: Nobody at this table is tough enough to be in the military.
Ben: Naw, naw
Sarge: Nobody could handle going to Iraq, or working in a forward area (ed note: ok, Col. Jessup). Especially you.
Ben: Naw, you got it all wrong. I wanted to serve my country. I went to enlist, but they won't take convicted felons.
- the halloween bit
Ben: Hey Sarge
Sarge: That's sargENT
Ben: Sorry, right, right, sargENT, what are you going to be for Halloween?
Sarge: I'm gonna get a Titleist hat and go as an idiot. (ed. note: this was funny as hell)
Other notable hands that i can vaguely remember:
- Sarge and Ben raising each other up when C flopped (I believe) a boat
- Ben and Beeline heads up after Beeline flopped a set of queens. Ben says, "what do you have over there? I don't got shit, just a pair of jacks" then picks his cards up, shows them to Beeline, and puts them back down and calls the bet. Beeline was speechless, and winning the hand.
- In a hand nobody else will remember, Beeline check raised the guy to his left out of a hand on the flop where that guy clearly had a better hand, then won the hand. The guy's reaction was better than the pot...
People had slowly been going to bed, Beeline went, and your author remembers nothing more.
Sunday:
Planes. Bye.
T
J
···I bet3 BB, and he calls immedately. (ouch, but, even giving him credit for any of the board, I have some outs)
I bet 5 BBs and he calls immediately again (double ouch)
