The Big Teaze

So many stories, so little time.

As I indicated in my last post, I am up against a deadline for Ante Up, and having just returned from Vegas 48 hours ago, I just don’t have time to do a proper, Rob-sized blog post about any of the insanity that occurred in my recent visit there.

So this post will be mostly a teaze of things to come.  By the way, the misspelling of “tease” as “teaze” is quite intentional and the reason for it will be revealed in one of the future posts I’m teazing here.

So here’s a list of some of the things you can look forward to reading about here in the in the near and not so-near future.

The first night of “Blogger’s Poker,” with Coach and Pete Peters at MGM.  Special guest appearance by the now-legendary Alysia Chang, who later admitted that she bluffed me off a nice pot.  What did I have?  Why did I fold?  Details will be forthcoming.

A great suckout by yours truly when I had pocket Aces.  Yeah, I had the bullets but I was on the right end of the suckout.

The second night of “Blogger’s Poker” held at the Venetian, aka “The TBC Invitational.”  In addition to Coach and PPP, the truly legendary TBC was there, along with grrouchie, a PPP-stalker who should probably have a restraining order issued against him, and a long-time follower of Tony’s blog, Dave.  As customary with my blog, though, I will give him the pseudonym of “Dave.”  Now, I seriously doubt I can get through this evening with a single blog post.  Perhaps I should take bets on how many posts I can stretch it out to? Of course, other bloggers have already told their versions of this incredible event, but this one cries out for the “robvegaspoker” treatment.  And did I actually use my fame and influence to get us all at the same table?  Stay tuned.

A poker session with a self-proclaimed “hot blonde” who lives in the richest part of Southern California and likes to throw around the phrase “Titty-City”—and who kept Abe and me in stitches.

My first experience with the “MGM Invitational” (not to be confused with the “TBC Invitational”), a not-quite freeroll that led me to suggest a new TDA rule.  I even have the explanation for why they charge $5 for it instead of making it a true freeroll.

Prudence, Abe and myself being served “vulva tea” by a hot Vietnamese girl who was, in the most literal sense possible, “butt-naked.” Well, "vulva tea" is what I'm calling it from now on.

A rather lengthy running discussion of breast-feeding at the poker table.  The guy doing most of the talking about it (who was there with his cute blonde wife, who was breast milk provider) was my personal patsy, as I sucked out against him a couple of times—once leading to a drawing ticket that resulted in….well, you’ll just have to wait and read the entire details.

And of course, the dreaded pocket Kings will make several appearances—both good and bad—in the posts about this trip.

OK, that should whet your appetite—whether it’s the breast milk or the “vulva tea” that wets it is up to you.

But I don’t want to do a post that is nothing but teazes, so I will finish this off with an homage to  my friend Coach, and a recent post of his.  Coach has a fine blog, but it is very different from mine. My blog is at least PG-13 rated, perhaps even “R.”  Coach keeps his blog very clean, if not G-rated, certainly a mild PG. That’s great, the nice thing about doing your own blog is you can do it your own way, your own style, your own sensibilities.

But Coach recently told a story about running into a “Sportsbook Barbie” (see here) that frankly seemed more suited for this blog than his own.  I have no doubt that he reported the event accurately as it happened. But it felt to me like, in his quest to keep his blog PG-rated, he may have left out a few crucial details and observations. I just feel that the story probably needed to be told by someone who isn’t afraid to get down and dirty, someone with an R-rated blog. You know, someone like yours truly.

Now I wasn’t there, so I am going to tell you my version of Coach’s story (which you should read first) as if I was there.  The story I am about to tell actually did happen just as I am about to report.  However, it happened only in my mind, and not in the sportsbook of the Quad, where Coach’s story took place. 

So here’s how it went down. I was sitting in the book with Coach and PPP (who Coach refers to as “James Bond” though I’m not sure why, since I don’t believe PPP has a license to kill).  Suddenly, this smoking hot girl appeared out of nowhere.  She was blonde and wearing a really sexy pink dress, along with stiletto heels (how I noticed her shoes, I don’t know).

She stopped right next to us, almost blocking our view from the many TV’s displaying various games from all over the world.  But not quite.  In fact, I’m not sure PPP even noticed her, so engrossed was he in the Mets game that he had foolishly bet on. Coach was in the midst of haranguing me for UCLA having caused him to lose every single parlay ticket he had the day before, as if it was my fault their offense didn’t show up.  I did attend UCLA many years ago, but neither the football team nor the basketball team ever listened to any of my unsolicited advice. When Coach suddenly stopped talking at the sight of the girl, PPP noticed the silence and looked away from the Mets’ pathetic performance to check her out as well.

Of course, I noticed her right away.  Did I mention that her dress was extremely short—it barely, and just barely, covered her derriere (but at least it did cover, unlike UCLA).  Ok, perhaps more importantly for this blogger was the fact that it was extremely low-cut and that she had extremely large breasts. I can’t say for sure but that very well might have been the first thing I noticed about her.  As such, there was copious cleavage exposed.  Her figure was so awesome that Coach later dubbed her “Sportsbook Barbie” but at the time, I’m not sure anyone of us was capable of forming sentences.  The dress on the girl in this pic is not nearly as short, as low-cut, or as tight as the one Barbie was wearing.

She didn’t say anything at first, but she leaned over as if she was looking for someone or something.  In doing so, her ample bosom came extremely close to my face.  Seriously, it was almost as if she was inviting me to motor-boat her.  And frankly, it took every ounce of self-restraint I possess to stop myself from leaning my head forward to complete the act.

As an aside, the excellent view I had led me to believe that if the sportsbook had been taking bets on it, they would likely have priced it as at least a 6 to 1 dog that the assets inches from my face were original factory equipment and not after-market add-ons.  I would have given at least 10 to 1 if necessary.

Suddenly she looked at the three of us, sitting there in stunned silence, and started talking.  “I dunno what I’m doing in a Sportsbook after yesterday. I dropped a bundle betting football.  I don’t suppose any of you know anything about next week’s games, do you?”

Coach was just about to speak when Barbie continued.

“I found this stupid blog the other day and it had the worst picks. I was trying to find a new swimsuit—all the ones I have are just too damn conservative, they don't show enough of my ass—so I googled “bikini.”  It took me to this blog, some guy named 'Coach' or something, and there were all these college football picks.  I thought it was fate, me finding this blog when I was looking for a bikini, so I figured I would bet all the picks.  What a mistake that was.”

PPP and I looked at Coach (just for a second, that is, and then immediately focused our eyes back on Barbie). He said nothing.  Not one damn word.

PPP got distracted momentarily because the Mets actually put a man on base (it was an error on a routine ground ball), and I muttered something about sports betting being tough.  “I got killed last time I bet on a football game,” I said, thinking back to my damn Super Bowl wager.

Barbie said, “Well, I need to find a better source for my picks next week.  If I have another week like this one, I’ll have to go back to hooking. Please, anything but that.”  She was, sad to say, looking directly at me when she said that, and I swear, she shuddered.

And with that, she wandered off.  At least the view as she walked away was nice.

And that’s the way it actually happened.  In my mind, that is.

Addendum:  Just hours ago, it was reported that Joan Rivers passed away.  As my tribute, I will relate my all-time favorite Joan Rivers joke.

I'm pretty sure that my friend Norm and I heard this one while listening to one of her albums on a drive up to Vegas, many years ago.

It goes back to a time when she was married to her late husband Edgar, who was of course the butt of many of her jokes.

"Edgar and I just came back from England.  And while we were there, I'm pretty sure he had an affair with Queen Elizabeth."

Of course, this got a huge laugh from the audience, and then Joan continued.

"Yeah, the reason I know that is, one night, he was out on his own, and he came back to our hotel room late at night.  When he took off his shirt, I noticed tiara marks on his stomach."