Info About Poker Card Reader

Las Vegas 2010 is off to a great start. It always begins in a rough manner because I can never sleep the night before a flight due to my fear of flying, but there’s no other way I want to get to a faraway destination. Somara claims I had a brief nap around 3 AM, I really didn’t get much rest due to the borderline illness I manage to shake off (hooray!). Maybe the lady pilot/co-pilot knew I was traveling with her yesterday, it was the smoothest airplane journey I can remember. How did I know there was a lady in the cockpit? When we exited I quickly poked my head in and said thanks for the smooth ride. Glad to see women flight crews making progress in the commercial airlines.

The funniest realization so far was the creation of city’s new car rental center. I don’t know when it was built nor completed because we haven’t rented a vehicle here since 2003 but it’s a great idea; deflect all the additional traffic away from an already crowded section. However, when we picked up the car, the clerk asked us if we needed immediate directions and we said, “Yeah, Tahiti Village.” He chuckled, pointed out the window and replied, “Right over there.” It was across the street, the rental-car shuttle practically drove us to TV. Had I known better, had no scruples and was a total cheapskate, I would’ve bailed on the rental and walked over in the 95 F/36 C heat.

Speaking of Tahiti Village, the higher-end room we scored rules. We plan to give a quick tour of it at a later time. Fear not, we have no intent to ensnare anyone into the timeshare stuff. Believe me, I hate companies that are always bugging me to be involved in their pseudo pyramid scheme, it was a major peeve of mine with Dish and organized religion. The view during the day is weak but it does look more impressive in the evening.

We also made a quick side trip to a grocery store for the cheap supplies to save money. Seems the people of Las Vegas remain saddled with Albertsons. How lucky we Austinites are to have HEB because we paid about $60 for what I know we could’ve scored for under $45 easily.

After a nap to recuperate from the packing, preparing and flying, we celebrated with an anniversary dinner at Bellagio’s buffet. I didn’t want to stuff myself yet Somara’s parents gave us a $50 Visa gift card and this buffet is packed with fancy stuff I enjoy: salmon, expensive cheeses, lobster-stuffed ravioli but no pate last night.

We also premiered the first round of our video poker contest at Caesar’s Palace. This time we ironed out the rules ahead of time and were in agreement. Somara was off to an early lead at $30, then I pulled through with a couple good hands which kept me alive until she went broke first, leaving me $10 and the winner! The initial roulette wager from one co-worker was a bust, sorry Ben. Our traditional number 27 didn’t fare better neither…31. I need to hit the other casinos’ sports books soon. I couldn’t believe CP didn’t have any futures stuff ready for the NHL or NBA yet they had the odds available on…brace yourself…Canadian Football.

Day 2 promises to be cooler. We will be going to the Liberace Museum and Pinball Hall of Fame (they’re very close together). Stay tuned, I hope to keep you interested and send your wagers in via e-mail or SMS if you missed the chance before we left.

Gambling Report:

• Video Poker: Steve 1, Somara 0 ($10, $0)
• Somara: -$20
• Steve: -$20 (I cover our joint losses in roulette)

With college football season right around the corner (OK, not this corner coming up, but the one right after it), it’s time to unveil the fruits of a yearlong project I’ve undertaken, devoted Honchoans. For to really get answers, one must immerse oneself within the situation one wants answers from. That’s right!… undercover work! It’s productive, it’s deceptive, it’s exceedingly cool… there’s no part of that I don’t like.

So, with my youthful good looks, cannon arm, 4.19 40 yard dash, uncanny ability to read defenses, innate desire to break the rules, and a deep-seated aspiration to erase the psychological scars that have haunted me these many years, I went back to high school, and joined the football team.

The goal, of course, was to turn myself into a top-flight recruit. So, adopting the devious moniker Ned Honcho, I enrolled as a transfer student at Willem Dafoe High School in Appleton, Wisconsin, home of the Fighting Method Actors. And with my aforementioned traits accompanying me, winning the starting QB job was a mere formality (as was being named Homecoming King, Master of Ceremonies at the Green Goblin Fair, and Valedictorian). From there, I only needed to put up the numbers that would interest college coaches.

How’s 7,989 yards passing, 64 touchdowns, 1 interception (my stupid receiver ran the wrong route), a 15-0 record, and a state championship sound? It sounded pretty good to recruiters.

So the letters started pouring in. And the phone calls. And the texts. And the emails. And the Facebook friends. And the tweets. My single “mom”, technically an actress I plucked from the wonderful film The Seduction of Dr. Lewis, was besieged by shady middle men and runners… so much so that her subsequent increased wage demands threatened to ruin the whole affair. And as I suspected, the supposed “rules” were bent so far they collapsed in on themselves, forming a circle of plausible deniability and “this is how it’s always been”. Some examples:

The University of Georgia offered my “mom” a condo on the coast in Tybee Island, introduction to a slew of wealthy bachelors, free Coca-Cola for life, an extra-large Big Green Egg, and her own salon. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “The Bitches” (I assume it’s not derogatory because their mascot’s a bulldog, but I didn’t ask), an open account at Home Depot, scores of free miles for Delta flights, my own show on CNN, and a lifetime supply of Beef ‘n Cheddars from Arby’s. Something to consider.

The University of Michigan offered my “mom” a sprawling, 4 bedroom home on Lake Michigan in St. Joseph, a Dodge Viper, her own Amway distributorship, and free Domino’s Pizza for life. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “The She-Wolverines”, a testing space at Dow Chemical, a Ford Expedition, a lifetime supply of any Kellogg’s brand cereal, and as many La-Z-Boys as my ass could sit in. Not bad, not bad.

USC offered my “mom” a Mediterranean-style villa on the coast in Malibu, a supporting role in the new Will Ferrell flick, a lifetime of free insurance from Health Net, and a chance to design her own Guess? jeans. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “Bring Your Trojans”, a 20 picture deal with 20th Century Fox, free food for life at In-N-Out Burger, all the DirecTV I can handle, and a chance to design my own line of toys with Mattel. I do loves me some In-N-Out Burger.

The University of Oklahoma offered my “mom” a brick home in a cookie-cutter subdivision of Oklahoma City, 100,000 shares of stock in Chesapeake Energy, an open account at Hobby Lobby, and free Sonic for life. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “The Nooners”, all the free kitsch I could ever want from Love’s Country Stores, my choice of ride from Big Red Sports & Imports, enough Braum’s ice cream to develop an intolerance to lactose, and some face-time with Kevin Durant. They could do worse, I suppose.

The University of Miami offered my “mom” a penthouse condo in South Beach, a free cruise a week with Royal Caribbean Cruises, trucks full of free rum from Bacardi, and free season tickets to Heat games for life. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “Los Prostitutas”, all the free ink I could handle from Miami Ink, a lifetime supply of Whoppers from Burger King, free gold from Cash4Gold, and an adjustment to state law to allow me to live in Stiltsville, off the coast. I could be taking my talents to South Beach.

The University of Pittsburgh offered my “mom” a stately Tudor home on the Monongahela River, a lifetime supply of all 57 flavors offered by Heinz, a chance to design her own line at American Eagle Outfitters, and aluminum-plated everything from Alcoa. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “The Panters”, all the “legal” steroids I could handle from GNC, a lifetime supply of Primati Sandwiches from Primanti Bros., a night out on the town with Ben Roethlisberger, and steel-plated everything from U.S. Steel. A surprisingly lucrative offer from Pitt.

But none could top what came next.

UNLV offered my “mom” a permanent penthouse at the Bellagio, introduction to every wealthy gambler in from out of town, her own account with any Harrah’s casino, and a starring role in her own show. They offered me my choice of female from a discreet fan organization known as “The Gummin’ Rebels”, an audience with Steve Wynn, my own whale room at Aria, a penthouse at Veer Towers in the CityCenter, a doorman perched outside said penthouse, the adjoining penthouse full of Rockstar Energy Drink, a waitress taking drink orders every 7.5 minutes wherever I may be, automatic passage through any velvet rope, my own seat on the MGM board of directors and Las Vegas city council, a 38% cut of all Cirque du Soleil profits, 40% of all foreclosed upon homes, permission to count cards (a forte of mine), free entry into the World Series of Poker for life, the re-dubbing of the high roller room at the Wynn to “The Ned Honcho Room”, and my very own show at the Hard Rock Casino. Very impressive.

Just as I was about to sign on the dotted line, I remembered this was all about research (stupid research), and instead had to feign an irregular heartbeat, thus bringing an end to my brief but illustrious football career. And in the end, it would have taken too much time away from you, my loyal Honchoans, and I couldn’t have that.