Democrat National Convention:Jonny Threw Up in His Mouth.....a LOT

Just some quick thoughts. Watching the Democrat National Convention. I'm sure Jonny will be just as repulsed when the Grand Old White Guys take center stage from Minneapolis next week. But what a fucking joke. Just an arena full of sheep with their stupid fucking signs and their fucking stupid songs. Wow - what a coincidence!...They all had signs that said "McCain - More of the Same", and then Biden's theme was "That's more of the same!", complete with chanting from the Sheeople like it was the opening scene of Wheel of Fortune. Oh, and if he's going to act like he mistakenly said "George" (Bush) when he meant to say "John" (McCain) and then call it a Freudian slip, he REALLY should work on his delivery so that it's remotely believable. He got so excited about releasing that little gem of prose that he popped too soon like Forrest Gump and totally fucked it up. Gag. Cud from Pei-Wei doesn't taste as good going down the second time. And did they really need to exhume the corpses of Biden's wife and daughter for political gain? Even Jonny thinks that is shameful. Congratulations - you decided not to go to Washington to take your oath of office because your wife and daughter just got killed. How fucking noble of you. Or maybe that fucking train just wasn't running that day.

IF JONNY HAS TO HEAR ANY MORE ABOUT BIDEN TAKING THE FUCKING TRAIN EVERY DAY, I'M GOING TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE FUCKING HEAD! I'd rather hear some sappy story about how he still takes a giant SHIT every day. Or maybe how he takes one shit in Washington and another shit in Delaware EVERY DAY. I think that accomplishment is more worthy of self-congratulation than taking the train home to Delaware nightly.

One important sidenote, though - Jonny saw irrefutable proof that the Republicans are fucked - before Bill Clinton took the stage (and before that god-awful god-damn Fleetwood Mac song began to torture Jonny), the Dems were cranking out "Eye of the Tiger". GG GOP. See ya in 2012. If Survivor can beat the Russians, the Republicans don't stand a chance.


And while we're on Clinton, is that guy the King of all Jedi Knights or what? I swear that guy can wave his hand and you'll forget all about the droids. And the Sheeople LOVE him. I literally laughed out loud when Clinton started getting pissed because his humble subjects would not stop the ovation so he could speak. He looked like Mr. Clark in "Lean on Me" standing in front of the high school auditorium full of hoodrats trying to bring them to order. "Please stop". "Stop!" "Sit down - we've got business to do!!!" You could see it in Clinton's face - he wanted to twist off like Kanye West, but his years of experience kept him from saying what he WANTED to say - "Shut the FUCK up and sit the FUCK down. Okay, I get it - you fuckin' LOVE me. But they told me I have to introduce the next Shepherd, and then I gotta go - I got P-I-M-P-I-N to do!"

I loved how Clinton took credit for everything positive that happened from 1992-2000. He bragged about how strong the economy was and how great the budget surplus was when he left office. Yep - it's true - it was all because of you, Billy. Starting in about 1950, Clinton skillfully began crafting the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on Corporate America that resulted in TREMENDOUS corporate spending in the last couple of years of the 20th century. As a result of Clinton's genius "Y2K Panic Plan", the economy was BOOMING, and Clinton's life-long plan came to fruition. At the same time decades ago, with the help of his little buddy Albert, he created the Internet and set in motion all of the hysteria that lead to the tech bubble that further boosted the economy and swelled the government's coffers with all of the capital gains tax on stock market returns from phantom companies with phantom profits. Need further evidence of Clinton's expertise? How about that gigantic bucket full of shit he left hanging above the door to the Oval Office, a-la Three Stooges, so that as soon as his successor walked through the door, the tech bubble burst, terrorists attacked NYC, and his successor was covered in shit. Dude, the time before, during, and after your administration were a Perfect Storm for you - just acknowledge that you run good at LIFE. Or maybe I'm wrong, and Chris Moneymaker really WAS the best player at the WSOP in 2003. But enough about Clinton. You can't argue with stupid. But he's still the smoothest motherfucker alive.

Jonny especially loves how each party spends the first six months of the election season stomping on each other's nuts, and then they come to their respective conventions and say "Naaaawww...We were just bullshittin'. We didn't mean all that stuff we said about each other. Contrary to our earlier statements, we're all VERY qualified and we'll all do a GREAT job."

But anyway, seriously folks. Do people really think that a politician is going to change their lives? Do they REALLY think that a government is going to solve their problems? Dude, the government can't efficiently issue you a little card with your picture on it without it turning into a total cluster-fuck. But these people on the convention floor were GENUINELY excited about the prospects of Mr. Obama instrumenting "Change". Good luck with all that. Somehow the campaign platforms of "Change" and "Take Back America" and "Stick Up For The Little Guy" and "Improve Life for American Families" work EVERY fucking time. I guess that's because no one ever accomplishes these promises, so they are still bullet-points the next time an election rolls around. If you want to improve your circumstances or solve your problems, save the energy you are wasting shaking that stupid fucking sign and chanting what they tell you to say and singing "We Are Family", and instead get off your ass and get busy working on your own problems and circumstances!

Jonny hates politics, and Jonny hates politicians. How long before the Machines take over?

To You NASTY MOTHERFUCKERS at the WSOP

A recent post on BigStack.com / WestonPoker.com reminded Jonny of something he wrote a few years ago on another forum about the sanitation practices of a lot of Jonny's fellow poker players.

Reposting so that this gem is preserved for posterity.

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August 1, 2006

Ok guys, two points about you nasty, smelly, unsanitary COCKSUCKERS at the World Series of Poker (WSOP)!!!

1) Ok, guys, I see you EVERY day on EVERY break. We have 15-20 minutes to visit the restroom, yet you nasty motherfuckers REFUSE to wash your hands. I saw what you did there. I SAW you. I have seen you on every single goddamn break since the World Series started. Why? What is it that you have planned that prevents you from washing your hands after you take a piss? What GREAT PLANS does your future hold? Are you working on the cure for cancer on your breaks during poker tournaments? What great innovation would mankind miss out on if you stopped and took a minute to rid your nasty fucking hands of bacteria, spermatozoa, and whatever other infectious entities you are bearing that might make your refusal to wash your nasty fucking hands worthwhile? I have watched you for weeks. You are so scared that you might miss a hand that you scurry from the men's room without even a rinse. Then, when you bust out, or (heaven forbid) you bust me out, you want to shake my hand or high-five me with your dirty, disgusting hands. What the FUCK makes you think I want to touch your FILTHY FUCKING HANDS after you have been diddling your SMELLY FUCKING COCK, wiping your SMELLING FUCKING ASS, or doing other unspeakable things and then failing to wash your nasty hands with a little soap and water? PLEASE take 30 seconds to wash your hands, and I might allow you to shake my hand after you suck out on me, you worthless, dirty, smelly fucking cocksuckers.

2) To you SMELLY fuckers, including our brothers from across the pond. Hey - here's a lesson in Comparitive Cultures that perhaps EuropeanSmellyFuckerPoker.com did not teach you in preparation for your visit to the WSOP. In the U.S., we take SHOWERS, you smelly fucks. In the old U.S. of A. we wash our asses and our clothes, and then we apply deodorant to any areas of our bodies that we deem as potentially smelly. Here's another revelation - the WSOP lasts SIX WEEKS, so bring more than one change of clothes, you dirty, smelly, rotten motherfuckers. If all you brought with you for six weeks was that goddamn PokerStars.com t-shirt or that awful who-gives-a-flying-fuck soccer jersey, then go visit your sponsor, and I'm sure PokerStars will give you another t-shirt or two just so that you DON'T smell like ASS for the rest of the WSOP. If they refuse, come find me. I will personally take you to the gift shop and buy you all of the WSOP gear that you can carry, and I'll throw in a bar of soap so that you can wash your smelly, sweaty ass. If necessary, you can come to my room and consummate the transaction by scrubbing the body odor out of your pores and dirty fucking ass and replacing it with a briefly sweet smell and a new t-shirt, even if it was a new PokerStars.com t-shirt direct from the tool shed. And while you are at it, take that nasty droopy-titty European bitch you brought with you and lock her in the room too. I don't want to see those fried-egg-tits hanging out at the pool with her unshaven, smelly underarms fucking up my environment either, and PLEASE don't let her come visit you at the table, blasting me with a double-barrel load of your nauseating European stench. Lock that bitch in your room and sacrifice her while you at least scrub the crust and salt and smell out of your OWN stinky ass before you come to the tables. You can go back and pound her smelly fucking guts out later when it doesn't affect my world or make me nauseous that you are such a NASTY, SMELLY FUCK with no concern for common hygiene practices or for the common decency to wash your smelly, shit-stained, cum-soaked dirty fucking bodies before bringing them close to me. In summary, don't show up at the tables smelling like you herd goats for a living. The WSOP lasts six weeks - prepare accordingly, you, NASTY, SWEATY, SMELLY, EUROPEAN SANDY FUCKS!!!

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Wow, Jonny was a lot angrier back then. Good thing he has found peace and put all of his former caustic rage to rest.

Peace and Love. ♥ Love you long time.

WTF???:Prosecutors wondering how to get obese woman accused of killing nephew to court

Another gem from Texas news:

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EDINBURG, Texas (AP) — Prosecutors are trying to decide how to jail and bring to court a nearly half-ton, bedridden woman accused of killing her 2-year-old nephew.

A grand jury on Thursday indicted Mayra Lizbeth Rosales, 27, on one count of first-degree murder and on one count of injury to a child in the death of Eliseo Gonzalez Jr. She previously had been charged with capital murder.

Rosales weighs nearly 1,000 pounds and cannot fit through a door to leave her home, leaving prosecutors wondering how to bring her to court. As of Thursday evening, she was not in custody.

Hidalgo County Sheriff Lupe Trevino said holding her at the county jail for her trial would be impossible because she needs extensive medical care.

"She would die," said Trevino in Thursday's online edition of The Monitor in McAllen.

The grand jury indicted Rosales after an autopsy confirmed investigators' suspicions that the child died March 18 because he had been struck. Investigators believe the toddler was struck at least twice, crushing his head.

Authorities recommended Rosales' bond be set at $150,000.

The boy's mother Jaime Rosales, was charged earlier with injury to a child because she allegedly left her son alone with his aunt. Her bond has been set at $100.000.

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Jonny will finish the story for you...the follow-up story is going to say...

The Hidalgo County Sheriff's Department has decided to allow Rosales to remain in her home pending trial. "We don't consider her a flight risk."

Jonny out. ♥ Love you long time.

Kicked Square-In-The-Nuts: "Winstar World Championship Series"Alt: "Fuck You! Good Customer Service is What I SAY IT IS!!!"

Jonny made his triumphant return to The Bigtop yesterday, destined to be crowned King of all Temporary Structures. But it was not to be. Jonny was card dead and then played badly late. In hindsight, Jonny wishes he had sold his entry chip and hit the vibrant cash games, but he did not find the feeding frenzy for last-minute entries that many expected, so to his seat he went. No real hands of note, although Jonny was a little surprised by his bust-out hand. Jonny had not played a hand in several orbits - totally card dead. With the blinds at 600-1200 with a 100 ante, Jonny decides to pick up a pot and moves in for T9700 (8x BB, M=3.5) from middle position with Qh-8h. Surely they have been paying attention and will give me credit for a big hand, right? I get a fairly quick call from the SB, who had been playing pretty solid so far. Oops. She's got a big hand. It takes about a third of her stack to call. She shows K-10. WTF? Perhaps Jonny should have announced "I haven't played a hand in several orbits and I'm not really critically short-stacked". Whatever - she made a good call and busted Jonny.

But that is not the point of today's lecture, children. Jonny is more concerned today with the overall customer service disposition that permeates that long-storied Aluminum-and-Vinyl Empire. Surprisingly, Jonny is very mellow today and not in the mood to unleash a vitriolic (wink), profanity-and-insult-laden spew-tyrade-shitstorm-armageddon on those unsuspecting folks at Winstar. Let's face it kids - it would be like taking a tree branch to Simple Jack. They ain't gonna understand why they are taking a beating. But you folks at Winstar Muh-muh-muh-make Jonny want to BLOW HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!

In the earlier Winstar post, I mentioned something to the effect of "It's not your normal $60 weekday tournament - ACT LIKE IT!". Well, true to form, the initial day of the inaugural "The River" tournament was executed with the same amateurish brio and mentally-challenged (don't wanna offend the retards) flair as any other Winstar tournament. I'm sure there were numerous meetings with Management and Staff leading up to this event. I envision it going something like this...

BIG CHIEF: (no racial pun intended, right?) "Okay Team, Winstar World Casino has endeavored to execute the largest Big Buy-In tournament ever seen outside of the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas. Are we ready?"

MINIONS: (in unison) "Meh. Yeah, sure, I guess. Hey, is this going to take long? I was supposed to go on break five minutes ago."

Seriously, folks. Did ANY preparation go into the "poker" execution of this event? As best Jonny could tell, it was the normal $60/$110 weeknight donkament, just with bright lights and cameras and a fancy deep-voice announcer-guy that was reading from a script that no one bothered to proof-read. It took him the first eight levels to figure out how long the levels were and when the breaks were, even though that information was projected on the Jumbotron the whole time.

"TDA Rules? What's TDA?". That was the response when Jonny asked his dealer what the rule was regarding killing a hand when a player was not at their seat. He explained that the Winstar Rule was that your hand was dead if you were not in your seat when you were dealt your first card. I asked "Then why even bother to deal that player into the hand?". To his credit, he was very polite about it and offered to call the Floor over to verify that this was indeed the case. A Floorman came over and verified that yes, indeed, your hand was dead if you were not there to receive your first card, but that the player is dealt a complete hand regardless. Um, okay. No biggie. Except that less than 10 minutes later at an adjacent table a different floorman made the CORRECT T.D.A. ruling, which is, of course, that players must be "at their seat" when the last card is dealt (which goes to the player on the button).

Yes, folks, Jonny gets it. "Who gives a shit exactly when the hand is dead, and how often does it really matter? Either the player is there or he isn't." But this example is Winstar ignorance and complacency in a microcosm. This is the simplest of all tournament rules, yet they can't get it right, and they can't even get it consistently wrong.

Now call me a stickler for details, but how hard would it have been to have a Dealer/Floorperson meeting, hand everyone a copy of TDA rules, and go through it line-by-line. Ask questions, get answers. Propose scenarios and challenge everyone to rule correctly. "COME ON NOW Jonny - we've got cigarettes that need smokin' and asses than need grabbin'. We don't need no stinkin' rules meeting. It's only a THREE MILLION DOLLAR tournament."

Better yet, let's be visionary....hold that meeting MONTHS ago, since this event has been in the works since February or March Then guess what? You could practice those rules when you hold a tournament almost EVERY FUCKING DAY OF THE WEEK for months. Then your dealers will know the rules, your floorpeople will know the rules, and (SHOCKINGLY!) they might even make consistent rulings and not look like total idiots as they argue over a rule in front of players. Seriously - if you have been doing the same thing every day for several years, shouldn't you AT LEAST be able to do it consistently?

So at one point Jonny went and asked for a copy of the rules. Of course, Jonny didn't want nor need a copy of the rules. He was looking for another reason to bitch (No. Really?), because he felt certain that Winstar could not provide a written copy of the rules, which incidentally were supposed to be attached to the affidavit every player signed agreeing to abide by the rules. Much to Jonny's surprise (and disappointment, because the spew cannon was locked and loaded), they produced a copy. They had to dig through a box, but they came up with a copy of their rules, which was copied from the current T.D.A. rules, verbatim. I guess actually crediting the TDA for the document costs 50 cents to license or something, but it was TDA nonetheless.

Now here come the normal caveats. There are some at Winstar that DO want to improve and work hard to do so. I witnessed a shift-change dealer meeting one time at Winstar - Floorman Manny was conducting the meeting. I stopped to listen-in as I returned from the soda machine, and Manny was posing different scenarios to the dealers and challenging them to come up with the correct answer. One question revolved around a third player's options in a No Limit game when one player had raised and then a subsequent player had raised all-in, but the reraise did not constitute a complete raise. If the third player wants to min-raise, what is the min-raise amount? Fuck, Jonny doesn't know! And Jonny doubts it will ever come up. But I salute Manny for having passion for his job and for asking such questions in order to challenge his dealers to THINK and to understand the rules of poker so thoroughly. Sadly, most of the dealers couldn't even hear Manny's question over the unmistakable roar of a mass circle-jerk involving the majority of the dealers. Remember those opening scenes from Hill Street Blues? Exactly.

And the desire for excellence exists in some of the dealers, of course, as well. I'm not trying to cup his balls or anything, but one dealer that I consider a friend was at my table during yesterday's debacle, and the guy was flawless. Ok, maybe I'm cupping his balls a little because he reads Jonny's bullshit, but whatever - fucker ain't payin' Jonnys bills. But it's obvious that ignorance, complacency, and incorrect rules/procedures are not a matter POLICY at Winstar, because some of these folks do it right. Some of them DON'T cut the deck until they have pulled in the antes and the pot is right. Some of them DON'T immediately count down a stack when a player moves all-in and instead wait for another player to ask for a count. Some of them DON'T recap the action for that dumbfuck that wasn't paying attention, and some of them DO sit there silently when asked "How much is in the pot?" in a No Limit game. Minor details, granted, but again, if you are going to do it, why not do it right? More importantly, some of them DON'T constantly fuck up pots, DON'T constantly fuck up making change, DON'T fuck up the antes and then stare at the pot with that clueless look when they don't know who forgot to ante, DON'T fuck up the deal, DON'T fuck up the tournament, and DON'T fuck up Jonny's life in general.

Jonny has been lucky enough to play in lots and lots of poker tournaments. He has participated in many tournaments directed by guys like Jack McClelland and Jimmy Sommerfield and Jack Effel. Funny - somehow the dealers in those tournaments ALL seem to know the rules inside-out and backward-to-forward. Usually a player question about rules is met by the dealer reciting the rule verbatim and then politely offering to call the floor for a confirmation/ruling. Why? Because those Directors strive for excellence and demand it of their subordinates. Hell, Jimmy is a "traveling" tournament director, yet he manages to whip a tournament crew he has never worked with into fine form in time for the tournaments he visits.

Another parallel - when Bellagio holds their $500 daily tournaments (yes, I know the Dailys are $1k now) - chump change by Bellagio standards - guess what? They follow TDA rules to the letter. They issue penalties for exposed hands. The dealer simply announces "all in" and doesn't make a move toward the stack unless asked to do so. They move players from the big blind to worst position. Why? Because those are the rules, and rather than pretend to follow a standard set of rules and then just make-it-up-as-they-go, they practice their job CORRECTLY, CONSISTENTLY, EVERY DAY. Then, when a $25,000 buy-in tournament comes around, they are a finely-tuned machine. But I bet they still have dealer/floor meetings where grab-ass is discouraged.

Okay, so here's the lead-up to the Cherry on the Pie from Winstar yesterday. A player was moved to my table from a broken table. His seat falls between the button and the small blind, so by TDA rules he has to sit out a hand. The dealer deals him out, and I think, "Cool - this guy knows the rules." The new player sees that he doesn't have a hand, so he doesn't sit down and instead makes a phone call. No worries, right? Except that when it's time for the next hand, there is confusion over where the button goes. The dealer tries to give the new player the button, because all he can remember from some prior circle-jerk is that a new player can "us-us-us-assume any position". Others argue that the button needs to pass the new player, which is the correct rule. The floor is called over and the good times begin. First the Floor asks the dealer why he didn't deal the new player in the last hand. He says "he was milling around and never sat down". The Floor then accuses the player of trying to "dodge his blind" and scolds him. The player responds that he was standing behind his seat, saw that he didn't get a hand, so he made a phone call. So what does the Floor do? Well, rather than figuring out that there isn't any problem and simply moving the button past the new player, he tells the new player that he either has to "post" (like a cash game), or that he has to sit out until the big blind comes back around to him? WTF? That simply makes no sense. Obviously a seat-of-the-pants response by the Floorman, who happens to be the Big Man In Charge of all their tournaments. I guess he figured that if he made a ruling with enough authority in his voice no one would question him. A guy at a neighboring table tried to correct the Floorman, and the Floor basically told the guy the to STFU and that he would let him know when he needed help running a tournament. I've got news for you Fatman, YOU NEED HELP RUNNING A TOURNAMENT!

The best part came a little later. A player from another table hears us discussing how clueless the Floor is, and comes over and says that he was headed to the restroom after the incident and overheard the Floorman telling his colleagues "It doesn't matter WHAT the rule is. What I say GOES!" Nice.

Why not just get the deep-voice guy to make an announcement...(insert Michael Buffer voice here)...

"Attention Players and Dealers! Welcome to the Winstar World Championship Series hosted by the World-Famous Winstar World Casino!. We are excited that you have all paid $2,100 to come play here today. Now you can all GO FUCK YOURSELVES!!! Shuffle up and Deal!"

Get it? The staff at Bellagio is excellent because Jack McClelland is a professional and demands excellence. The attitude is pervasive through the other TD's, the floor staff, and the dealers. The staff at Winstar sucks worse than any other poker staff in this history of Poker AND Suckage because that is the leadership that drives them. Jonny feels very confident that all this place needs is leadership that GIVES A FUCK.

Solution? Actually got one this time. Bring in a professional. I tell people frequently that Winstar could learn a lot from Cherokee in Tulsa. I can't speak for how that room was run before they held their first major tournament, but I suspect it was a lot better than Winstar, because a sincere attitude of good customer service is pervasive up there. I am also confident that they would run excellent tournaments on their own without outside help. But instead, when they started running larger tournaments, they called up Jimmy Sommerfield and brought him in the run the show. Result? Excellence. At all levels. Like I said - Cherokee would probably be excellent without Jimmy's help, because those guys sincerely give a fuck and they work hard to do the right things. It's without question the best poker room in the South. But they understood the importance of having experienced, professional management of their tournaments and acted accordingly.

Winstar is broken. Badly. But they'll continue to get all the action because, well, players have no other option. The businesses in the USSR had people lined up for BLOCKS trying to get their products/services. But that doesn't mean Winstar can't improve. They just don't give a flying fuck.

This post is already way too long, but a few another notes.

1) All of the Mega-Satellites had 30-minute levels and a break every four levels, or two hours. Cool. The "Main Event" has 40-minute levels, but rather than (slightly) modify the structure to give a break every three levels (magically, still every two hours!), they left it at four levels, and players were instead forced to wait 2:40 between breaks, and then the breaks were only 10 minutes. Genius. Heaven forbid that a $2,100 tournament runs past 9:00 p.m. Sorry - I know - "What you say GOES", so I'll be a good little customer and shut the fuck up.

2) $2000 + $100. No food comps. But hey, we've got hot dogs for sale right in the tournament room for $3.00! Yeah, I know, I'm going to shut up and go fuck myself now. I played in a $200+20 or +25 in the past at Winstar, and the hot dogs were FREE!! I guess Big Chief Counting Beans back in the Corporate HQ Teepee realized that they could save like seventeen dollars if they didn't give away food. Does Winstar have one of those programs where employees can suggest innovations, and if the idea is implemented they get a bonus? If so, sign me up, and then I'll propose that if you want to save money, KEEP THE FUCKING POKER ROOM WARMER THAN 47 DEGREES! Seriously. I had dreamed up a bit where I was going to show up at The River in an arctic snow suit, complete with boots, goggles, and a huge faux-furry ring around the hood. But actually executing a bit takes effort - dreaming them up don't cost nuthin.

3) Of course, you realize that no matter what, Winstar wins, right? Last night, they had THIRTY-FOUR cash games running. That's on a Sunday night, which is usually dead. It doesn't matter - they have a monopoly, and they know that IF YOU PITCH IT, THEY WILL COME. I hope I am alive to see the day when the oil runs out, and Texas needs the money, and the Texas Legislature passes a bill authorizing gaming. There will be immediate smoke signals sent out all over the Toothless People's Republic of Oklahoma, and particularly along the borders. "Shape up guys, competition is coming." Oh, sweet, sweet competition. But until then, Winstar will continue to be a second-rate (being generous) casino running third-rate tournaments. At present, their only "competition", which is just across the Crystal Meth Border on the other major highway out of Dallas, doesn't even own a tournament clock! Choctaw uses one of those digital kitchen timers, so I guess Winstar considers themselves as the innovators among the shitty Indian casinos tapping the money tree of Texas poker players.

Jonny out. Babyarm.

The Great Credick Card GameUpdate After Month Two

So far, Jonny's little experiment is clicking along exactly according to plan. The escrow balance is growing, so the interest accrued on the free money from the credit card companies will continue to increase. The cash-back rewards are also piling up, although there is a significant delay between when the rewards are earned (as purchases post to the accounts) and when the cash is actually received. Realistically it's a 30 to 60-day disconnect depending upon the credit card company and their mechanism for distributing their rewards. For instance, with WaMu, you have to request a check, and they mail it to you two statements (so two months) later. Hence the "Rewards Receivable" outweighs the rewards actually received so far. But several checks/transfers are on the way, and that should pad the surplus nicely.

Stats after two months:

Purchases:	$23,371.91
Payments:	- $1,917.28
Debt Balance:	$21,454.63
Escrow Balance:	$21,594.50
Difference in Debt/Escrow:	+ $139.87
Interest Received:	$64.87
Rewards Received:	$75.00
Interest/Rewards Receivable:	$163.83
Net "Profit":	+ $303.70

The only interesting sidenote this month has been that this experiment has had a pleasant side-effect. Because Jonny is trying to maximize the impact of the experiment, all purchases are being made on credit cards. Each purchase is religiously entered into Quicken (takes only a minute or two each day), so for the first time in years Jonny has a VERY detailed accounting of where the money is spent. With such detailed records, planning a realistic budget and comparing variances between budgeted spending and actual expenditures is a piece of cake. How much Jonny and Mrs. Jonny are spending on some categories is quite shocking. Over time, we'll work toward being more responsible grown-ups and quit spending so much on eating out, fast food, and other questionable expenses.

The results of the project should grow fairly dramatically in the next few months, as large upcoming business expenditures will run the balances up significantly, increasing interest and cash-back. Until then, it will be slow and boring as the free money grows little-by-little.

Kicked Square-In-The-Nuts:"Winstar World Casino" Thursday $550 Freezeout

Jonny played in Winstar's $500+50 today. 61 players. Same shitty Winstar structure. Dealers were fucking horrible, and between dealers fucking everything up, maddening noise from all directions, and idiot clowndick players, I was tilting beyond belief, even though I hadn't hardly played a hand for a while at the time. Seriously - where do they get these retard dealers that they stick in the tournaments? It's not like it's a $60 nightly tournament - it was $550 - get some dealers that can run a table without making repeated stupid mistakes, and then giving me attitude when I correct them until they finally figured out that they had indeed made a mistake. Your job consists of the most basic of math, making a little change, and distribution of cards. How do you manage to fuck that up?

Plus I was sitting at the table in the back corner, so I got to contend with the noisy ice machine/soda fountain and those same water-headed dealers playing the Superbowl of Grabass in the nearby break room, with the door open, of course. Then I'm also right next to the board where they post the table rotations, so there is constant bickering over who goes on break next and who pushes into where next. In one hand our dealer stopped-down the entire table (in the middle of a hand where there had already been an all-in and a call) to argue with the same dealers and a floorman over when her next break was. We each paid $550 to play this tournament, you ignorant CUNT. At least have the common courtesy to finish the hand you are on before going to war over your next break. Trust me, that game of Grabass has legs - it will still be going when your break finally comes - you're not going to miss it.

I had complimented their dealers to a few people recently because I had seen tons of good dealing in cash games, but I guess they stick the good dealers in the cash games, and especially in the higher limit games, and dump the retards in the tournaments. But for the record, yes, Winstar has some excellent dealers. I just didn't see a single fucking one of them today.

And why is yelling at the top of your lungs considered the defacto standard for professional communication between the folks that work in this poker room? Call me an elitist, but I prefer to enjoy my game of poker without the constant screaming across the room. It's called a walkie-talkie. It's the latest rage - You should check it out. If you can afford to build a gigantic facade out front to hide the fact that the Crown Jewel of your Gaming Empire is a goddamn tent, you can afford a better communication system.

And the players are fucking morons too. Half of them obviously learned how to play poker on the Travel Channel, but they haven't figured out that the cameras aren't rolling on them right at the moment. Vince Van Patten and/or Norman Chad are not going to later do the voice-over on your performance, Assclown. Check, bet, or fold Fuckhole. They act like every single decision is agonizing, and if you bet into them or raise them, they feel obligated to stare you down for at least 15 seconds before they fold. Just fucking fold so we can play the next hand, Cocksucker. And by the way, I can't tell shit from your eyes, so lose the sunglasses, okay? I'm sure the Clowndick factor will be even worse next week when the stakes are much higher.

Anyhow, I got knocked out 13th. My friend Grunkzzz made the final table (congrats!) and got 7th, but he was pissed about how bad the players and dealers were also. I REALLY don't want to play the Main Event this week. Maybe I'll be in a better mood on Sunday.

The only notable hand was late in the tournament - two tables left. It is folded to me in the SB, and I am short-stacked and move in with 9h7s. The BB insta-calls with Ad6c, and she has me covered by just 200. I flop a 9, she's pissed, but the board proceeds to go runner-runner to a Q-high straight (on the board). I say "Sweet! Chop it up!". I didn't notice that there were four hearts on the board, and that I had the only heart. I REALLY didn't notice that the four hearts on the board were 8-10-J-Q, so my 9h made a straight-flush. The table couldn't tell if I was being a dick when I said "chop it up" or if I was really that fucking stupid. Yes, I was tired and tilted and can't read a fucking board.

Anyway, FUCK Winstar, FUCK Winstar's dealers (excluding the good ones), FUCK Winstar's players, FUCK any and all Vinyl Goddamn Casinos, and FUCK and the entire Toothless Republic of Oklahoma. I think that covers most of it.

Jonny out, Bitches!

Slow The Fuck Down orSHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Greetings. Jonny has been on the road a lot lately and is just catching up on his thoughts. Today's lesson comes from, well, "the road".

Jonny took a couple of road trips lately to that shitty wasteland just North of the border of the Great State of Texas. The natives call it "Oklahoma", which is an ancient Native American word that roughly translates into "great land of cigarettes, beef jerky, crystal meth, and vinyl casinos".

But Jonny's contempt for this charming piece of Americana is not the focus of today's sermon. Rather, I want to share a valuable lesson that Jonny learned while traveling to and fro from this godforsaken shithole.

Jonny rolls in true P.I.M.P. style. The Jonnymobile is a 1997-vintage battleship-colored battleship with an All-American (though Japanese-made) V-8, 4.1 liter power plant. Length: 199 inches (16'7"). Empty Curb Weight: 3,877 pounds. Not exactly a recipe for good gas mileage, right?

Well, Jonny thought so for a long time. In-town mileage is shitty - EPA estimate: 16 MPG City. Jonny's experience: yep, about 16 mpg. Go EPA! Might as well drive a Hummer. EPA estimate: 22 MPG Highway. Jonny's experience: Not so much. I always felt lucky if I got 20 MPG on the highway. But hey - it was a nice, smooth ride with COLD air. Jonny just figured someone at the EPA got some nice oral pleasures from some Asians to issue this lofty rating.

Well, on Jonny's last two expeditions to the Land of the Meth-Mouth, I decided to try driving a little slower. What the hell. No real rush to get there. So Jonny set the cruise control to 60 and leaned back to enjoy the scenic countryside. Jonny never realized how many Adult Book Stores there are along I-35. Why is that? Are all of the truckers stopping to jack it before continuing on their journey? Jonny wants to know, but Jonny digresses.

Anyway, reset: Jonny was driving 60. The result? Well, Jonny's immediate impression was that it was AWESOME, simply because driving 60 MPH on the Interstate REALLY pisses a lot of people off. Nothing pleases Jonny more than watching some Douchebag twist off in Jonny's rear-view mirror because said Douchebag is very displeased that Jonny has chosen to drive the speed limit or slightly less. I'm in the slow lane fuckhole - go around me. Usually, if the douchebag rolled up on Jonny's bumper quickly enough and chose to stay extremely close, I would just hit the "Cancel" button on my cruise control so that my speed would start to decrease even more. That REALLY pisses them off. Usually I would get down to about 50 before they finally got the message and backed off, eventually passing while giving Jonny a dirty look, mouthing some choice words like "Jesus loves you" or "Have a nice day", and sometimes indicating via hand signal that Jonny was Number One!

Some Douchebags even chose to fly up on Jonny's ass, tailgate me, and then start flashing their lights and/or honking their horns. Response? Well, even though it's an old piece of shit, the Jonnymobile does have four-wheel antilock brakes. Seems like a good time to test them out. HARD!

[X] ABS still working

This particular subset of Douchebags seemed to get the message much more quickly than the Cancel Button Douchebags and backed off right away, but their response was usually more emphatic when they passed. I think a few of them liked Jonny so much that they wanted Jonny's autograph, because they were motioning for Jonny to pull over. I'd like to apologize to all of my fans out there, but Jonny ain't stopping on the side of the Interstate for you - it's too fucking hot and I have a tent full of smoke that I'm trying to get to some time today. You'll have to buy a facsimile of Jonny's autograph on eBay, Douchebag.

Beyond the initial result, Jonny was shocked to find out after going through a full tank of gas at 60 MPH that the Jonnymobile got a whopping 23 MPG!!! You fuckers in your four-cylinder, hamster-powered economobiles may scoff at this, but Jonny is rolling 199" long and nearly TWO TONS deep. I've got ice-cold air and I can carry more cargo in the Jonnymobile than I could in my Toyota pickup truck. And maybe that guy at the EPA didn't get blown, because suddenly 22 MPG is very realistic. Or maybe he just hustled those Asian chicks.

So Jonny has had an epiphany, and he would feel guilty if he didn't share it with you. Yes, even YOUR shitty car can get better gas mileage. Jonny's little jog into the Land of the Toothless is about 85 miles each way, so the difference in driving 60 MPH instead of 70 MPH means it takes me 12 minutes longer to get there. Who cares. It's not like Jonny's time has any value, so why not save some money on gas? And before you convince yourself that you are any different, YOUR time is WORTHLESS too. Unless you were planning working at some fantastic hourly rate once you get where you are going, then you have nothing better to do and your time has no value either.

So here's the moral of today's sermon: If you insist on driving above the speed limit, you have ZERO grounds to bitch about the high price of gas. Jonny improved his gas mileage by 15% simply by slowing down a little - so little that he didn't even notice that the trip took any longer. If you are so certain that your time and your life is so goddamn important that you have to drive 75, 80, 85 MPH or more to get where you are going, then I don't want to hear you whine about how much it cost you to fill your tank. Jonny used to think his time was valuable too, but now he knows otherwise and would rather entertain himself by pissing off Douchebags while driving slower and saving money. If you insist on driving faster than me, then SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! And if you insist on tailgating Jonny because I am Driving Miss Daisy To The Casino, you might catch a mouthful of the Jonnymobile's bumper, and I can guarantee you that the Jonnymobile will suffer less damage than that fiberglass American-made piece of shit that you are driving.

Jonny out, Bitches!