Bare Backs, Sore Backs, Perfect Racks, Pocket Kings & Pocket Jacks

As I post this, I’m back in Vegas, having arrived Friday of Memorial Day Weekend.  And I find things very frustrating.

I’ll get to the frustrating part later.  But I need to cover a number of topics in this post, and I want to do it in very brief fashion.

(Pause for laughter)

I can now confirm what I mentioned in the Slut Parade post, that the MGM poker room has moved away from its long time area, away from the chaos of said Slut Parade, and back into its long time temporary location.  Rumor—and that’s all it is, at this point—has it that it will stay there and that after the WSOP is over, they will have a new temporary location while they turn the area they are now at into more of a “real poker room” with an extensive remodel.

However, the current location still provides opportunity for prime Slut Parade viewing, as you can see the sluts, I mean girls, I mean ladies, walk by as they come to and fro between the parking area and Hakkasan.  So depending on where you’re sitting, there’s still a boatload of distractions walking by.  And getting to and from the Men’s rooms is also distracting for this reason (plus all the traffic).  And if you just walk anywhere around the casino when the SP is in full bloom, there’s eye candy galore.

In my original post about this phenomenon, I mentioned that it seemed like exposed cleavage was in third place regarding what these prim and proper ladies were emphasizing with their uniforms, trailing behind ridiculously short and ridiculously tight dresses.  Based on last night, perhaps I was mistaken.

Last night, bosoms were all over the place.  Cleavage definitely made a roaring comeback (not that it ever went away). And some of those ladies exposing said cleavage had very large breasts.  I wondered if at least one or two of them had perhaps been to a plastic surgeon. 

Additionally, there were a lot of bare backs exposed, and it appeared that a lot of the ladies had forgotten to put on a bra before going out for the night.  Side boobage was all over the place. In the front, the cut was down almost to the navel in some cases. But despite the loose fitting tops and lack of support garments, no nipples were on display this time, at least that I saw.

But the ladies dressed like this put on quite a show as they hurriedly walked to and from the club.  At least a few of the barebacked, braless ladies did indeed still have their own natural endowments, and they were thus giving a scientific demonstration of the effect of gravity.  It was a shocking sight.

Frankly, all the exposed flesh and inappropriate display of the female form was totally unacceptable in a public place.  I tried to find someone to complain to, but there just wasn’t anyone around who listen to my concerns.  

As to why I’m frustrated, well I don’t mean it in the sense that an MGM dealer meant last month, when I commented on all the interesting scenery parading throughout the room back when it was still next to Hakkasan.  I was enjoying the view, but he said, “Well it’s distracting.  And frustrating.  I go home with blue balls every Friday night.”  He said this only to me, but several of the players heard it and one asked to repeat it, which he did, loudly enough for everyone at the table, including a lady with orange colored hair, to hear.  The orange haired girl did not appear to be offended.

No, I’m frustrated because here I am in Vegas again and I have barely made in a dent in all the tales I have to tell from my previous two visits to Vegas.  And sadly, this time I came to town with no posts “in the bank” \that I have ready to post, as I have in the past.  The reason is that, while I was in L.A., I was struck with a recurrence of a chronic bad back (which I mentioned here), and I spent the better part of four days flat on my back, unable to work, and unable to type blog posts.  I should have at least half a dozen pre-written posts ready to go, but because of the bad back, I have zero.

Thus, in order to keep providing new content for the blog while in Vegas this time—for Memorial Day Weekend, for the start of the WSOP and for the next AVP Meet & Greet--I will have to change things a bit.  Instead of posting the detailed, meaty, takes-four-hours-to-read posts that I usually do and my readers all crave and beg for, I will have to do much shorter posts, concentrating on just a couple of things that are currently going on, and save the more desired posts for when I have time when I get home.  In the meantime, I’ll be collecting more meaty stories, so the odds of me catching up are getting shorter.  I hope these shorter posts don’t cost me readers.  Hang in there folks.

So, I barely have time to mention that yesterday, while playing at the Binion’s Classic, the lovely and vivacious Denise announced to the entire table she was dealing to that “My rack is perfect.”

To be clear here, she was not referring to a rack of poker chips.  No, she was referring to the part of the female anatomy that I have been unjustly accused of being obsessed with. There were two female players at the table when she announced this—neither of whom were lacking in the rack department, btw.  She actually nodded at me and winked in my direction when she said that, although I cannot say for sure if she signaled me out because she knows exactly who I am and why that comment might especially catch my interest, or if it was a coincidence because I happened to be sitting directly across from her.  Of course, I am always on my best behavior around Denise these days, so I said nothing, sitting there stone faced, and making a mental note of the comment.

I know that none of my readers really care about scantily clad females or their breasts, so let me get to the important part of this post: poker.  Yesterday in the tournament I was dealt pocket Jacks twice within 10 hands of each other.  The first time I flopped a set on a scary board, AKJ.  I made a flop bet and was called.  A harmless 6 hit the turn and my bet there was not called.

The second time I again flopped a set!  Not bad, huh?  Two sets of Jacks in less than 30 minutes.  My bet was again called.  The turn was the case Jack.  Pretty sure that this was the first time I’d ever caught quads in a tournament before.  The other guy checked and of course I checked behind.

Queen on the river, the guy bets out $1K (probably about half the pot).  Glory be, he bet into my quads!  I thought a bit and raised to $2.5K, praying, just praying, that he would repop it (which, with his chip stack, would have had to have been a shove).  But no, he only called.  OK, good enough, getting paid off on the river with quad Jacks.

“Just quads” I said as I flipped over my cards.  The guy was totally classy about it.  He said he had two pair (with the Jacks on the board) so I think he kind of played it badly, but he was very nice and said it was the second time in his life he’d lost to quads in a tournament.  But the first time he at least had a boat.

Despite this, I failed to cash in the tournament, a story for another day.

But this blog is famous, above all for two topics.  Bosoms and pocket Kings.  Bosoms have already been covered (so-to-speak), so let’s talk about my favorite dreaded hand.  In the first hour of my very first session back in Vegas Friday night, I was dealt this hand three times.  The funny thing is that this was the only hand I got in that time that was playable.  Seriously.  I know I’m a tight player but only the wildest aggro would have found anything I received during this period playable other than the cowboys.

And I won all three times with them!  Yes all freaking three times I won.  Not big pots mind you.  But frankly, any time I get KK these days, I consider it a major victory if I don’t get stacked (and that is not a reference the first topic of this blog post, get your minds out of the gutter).

First time, only one caller to my raise, low flop, he doesn’t call my flop bet.

Second time, there were a bunch of limpers, so I raised to $14 and caught my set of Kings.  Two hearts on the board and both my kings were black.  I bet out $20, folds to a guy who raises to $45, yippee!

Because I don’t slow play sets, and because of the heart draw, I didn’t smooth call.  I think that was probably a mistake, but I just have this thing now about not slow playing sets, so I made it $100.  He thought for a bit and folded.  He said he had KQ.

Third time a couple of callers and the flop came 5-5-5.  Wow.  I “accidentally” checked.  I was asking if the first guy had checked and the dealer thought I was checking.  Before I could correct him, the last guy bet $10, so I just check raised (to $25) instead.  The raiser folded.

Three for three in Pocket Kings.  At least this trip was getting off to a good (and shocking) start. 

Back to tables now to collect more stories I won’t have time to blog about!