Bachelor No More

The bachelor party has come and gone, and we’re now speeding northward to Michigan’s fabled upper peninsula. Big time thanks to all who traveled into Madison for a simple afternoon of grilled sausages, a beanbag toss championship, and an unrivaled night of gambling. Point of fact: Tim of psmgc.com fame and I won the damn thing and split the kitty of $120. In the weird time between bags and poker we took on all comers in cash games of bags and won even more money that (at least in my case) would be piddled away in a late-night basement craps game.

The food spread was the Ultimate: brat patties, hot & mild Italians, and some Hebrew Nationals. Mom’s delicious pasta salad and raccoon bars rounded out the buffet options. I really can’t rant and rave enough about D&G Meats out of Poynette, WI; their brats and Italians were just the best.

Late night gambling was, in a word, fun. I was the first goddamn one out of poker so I was unable to repeat wwhazz’s feat of winning his own tourney. After that we just gambled more and more, until the basement reeked of gambling and money.

If my calendar is correct, Cal is getting married to a French princess this week. Send him your best wishes through telepathic signals, and maybe you’ll be lucky enough to see him (and punch him) at our shindig in a few weeks.

And with that, I bid you adieu. Whazzmaster.com is closed until August 13th; leave your message at the beep.

Winning Weekend

Shake-of-the-Day

Spacebee and I headed down Illinois-way for a surprise birthday extravadanza for Spacebee’s Mom.  It was a fun time all around, but the highlight was kinda-sorta an accident.

It was a surprise that spacebee and I would attend, so we had to be kept under lock and key until the party on Saturday night.  As such I demanded to go play golf with my future Brother-in-Law on Saturday morning.  After an early deluge of rain we headed out Cedar Dell for some country golfin’ action.  I played, literally, my worst game of the year and lost $8 to my opponent (almost the max I could lose.)

After a few drinks at the club house we headed to another country tavern so that I could sample the Best Burger in Town.  It was, as advertised, delicious.

Finally, as we moseyed back to the house my ever-alert passenger mentioned in passing, “you realize we’re close to Stoney’s, don’t you?”  Stoney’s is the greatest bar in Illinois, and high in the running for Best Bar Worldwide (though it would never top the Main Depot.)  Stoney’s is 1/2 liquor store and 1/2 bar.  There are two dart boards and Golden Tee classic.  Enough said.

So we stopped in for one (Just One!) and chatted with the bartender and other patron (singular).  Just as we were finishing our drinks my partner sputtered a little bit of drink and said “Quince!” (the bartenders name was Quincy.  I swear.)  “Quince!” he said, “lemme get the shake of the day.”  He plopped a dollar on the bar and rolled for shit.  He passed me the dice cup and said “Zach, you’re up.”  The next things all happened simultaneously:

• The other patron said “I hope you win but not before I roll.”
• With one hand I produced a $5 bill and told Quince that I’d need change
• With the other hand I tipped the cup and rolled five 3′s, the result of which was that…
• …I won $1000

After that there was lots of running around, yelling, high-fives, and congratulatory High Life’s.  Also: lots of reminiscing about previous winners and the circumstances of the wins.  Also: drinking.

Well, I used up my dice-based luck for the next decade– what did you guys do this weekend?

Hapy Burfing

Let’s get this out of the way: hapy burfing, bellygirl and good luck with your new griddle.  You could have had ours but you didn’t ask.

Thanks to all my homeys who came over last weekend and showed Joe they could roll– I apologize for ‘falling asleep’ right there on the couch.  UFC was only ok, with the main event result bringing things up slightly from the basement where it started.  Chuck Liddell SMASHED == perfectly fine result in my mind.

We’re hitting the start of the busiest summer in recent memory so some of these threads’ll have to hold ya for awhile, whazzers.  Hapy Burfing Everyone, Young And Old!

Put Some Stank On It

We’re headed towards cliff, my friends.  Always a terrifying experience to be aimed headlong over the edge, but when the cliff in question is of one’s own making it can make you question how you got here.  May the First ends some things and begins many; it will mark the triumphant end of No Booze April (lost 12 pounds), I’ll be jetting to San Franseezy For Sheezy to talk nonsense to a large gathering, it will officially be The Summer of Love, most weekends my activities will be preordained, Prince Fielder might hit a home run at some point, Joe’s Casino may open several times if any shambling hobos amass outside her doors, I’ll finish that Cah-razy 1949 Frank Norris book I stoled from wwhazz, my first attempt at programming a video game may get finished, and much, much more.

Wwhazz’s thoughts on my impending San Fran trip: wait outside the library and mug Cal when he emerges.  Like, not fake “hahaha!” mugging, but really push him on the ground and take his money.  Maybe cuff him on the side of the head if he doesn’t give up the goods.  “He’ll know it’s me!” I yelled.  “Not if you wear ladies pantyhose over your face,” he calmly replied.  I don’t think I’ll do it though: (1) he likely knows tai-chi or some other oddball marshal art that would render my attack ineffective (2) what if Greg is with him at the time (3) what would I rob him of? Forty cents, a MUNI pass, and his gilt-framed picture of Greg?  Not worth the trouble.  However Cal, if on the nights of May One, Two, or Three you wish to meet me at McTeague’s for a steam beer then I will assent.

I really, really wish I could have a little video camera that caught maddd’s reaction when he opened the MINI-CHIP set.  Did you think something was suspicious due to the small package size?  Did you think you were getting full size chips right up until you opened the case itself? At what exact point did you know you’d been played for a fool by Jokerstars?

I really, really wish I could attend both the Top Hat Guitar Hero Affaire and Wwhazz’s Ho-Chunk Adventure this weekend but alas I’ll be visiting my poor family a-way up in Door County.  I fondly imagine that the Top Hat Affaire will end with someone smashing the GH controller into the Fancy Booze Tray.

Here’s a Bachelor Party Update: date not confirmed but likely August 7th, cookout at wwhazz’s house including various lawn olympics (bags, ladder ball, washers), poker tournament to follow, Joe’s Casino to follow that, Thunder Road tourney to follow that, Air Hockey tourney maybe to follow that, bars to follow that stuff.  Put some Stank on it, friends– comin’ out! Watch your dicks!

Business is Picking Up, BY GAWD!

In my natural habitat

Business has surely picked up in the last three weeks and it’ll continue to gain steam right up until August 28th.  We’ve hit the home stretch in our current release development at work, while at the same time I’m prepping for a presentation to 400 engineers in San Francisco in early May.  I’m pretty nervous about the latter, but with my code complete deadlines I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to prepare and rehearse.

Wwhazz keeps wanting to show me spawning muskies but I’m trying to fit it in with the gym, work, wedding planning, and playing Morning Golf with Lawman.  Morning Golf is a time-honored tradition where you golf at the crack of dawn and then scamper into work relatively on time.

I want to remind you folks that Joe’s Casino is always open, and that they honor Mystique and Diamond Jo’s player cards.  Fuck it: let’s just go to Mystiquewho’swithmeamIrtieamIrite?

As I mentioned before I’ll be out in the Bay Area May 1st through the 8th– HOLLLAR at a player when you seem ‘im in the streets, trick.  In the meantime I’ll be watching the Brewers rotation either (a) work the kinks out or (b) flush the whole fuckin season down the toilet.

I’m hoping for (a).

Opening Day Kinda-Live Blog!

Brewers~!

The 2010 baseball season is a time for hope, a time for joy, and not a time for cal.  Nice outdoor stadium, Twins, hopeyalike snow.  Why so glum, San Francisco? Your opening day is a rainout? Aww.  Sunny and 60 in Milwaukee.

No brats, beer, cookouts, or drunkeness for me today, thanks.  I’m just sipping coffee, pattering around computer code on my lappy, and watching Davey Nelson make one goddamn lunatic comment after another in the pregame show.  Nelly’s Nuggets!

C’mon Braun: hit like 20 dingers today.  I’d like to stone cold stunner the Dinger Kings right out of the gate.

Also: went to Ho-Chunk last night with the Laydee.  Had a kinda, sorta, ok dinner at the Copper Oak and then I Insta-Won $100 in craps, which I lost over the next 2 hours in a lunatic game of roulette where Stacy won $170.  All in all we had a nice little easter: a little gambling, a little sex, walleye.

So sit back, relax, and enjoy a (hopeful) Brewers blowout win on Opening Day.  Cal: keep your junk to yourself.

Settle for a Slowdown

Peninsula State Park

After an extremely busy holiday-and-January things have slowed down a bit (which is just fine by me.)  February was marked by a hectic work schedule, and even that’s starting to subside so let’s have some fun!

First on the docket: WIZP!  Lately I’ve really gotten back into Street Fighter IV.  What with Super Street Fighter IV coming out in April and the new MvC Fight Stick that Jay procured last week, I’ve been laying down a shitload of hadokens and shoryukens.

So shoot, what else. Whatelsewhatelsewhatelse.  Tattoos! We will all get tattoos of our rad name.  What is our rad name? SuperAwesomeCalsForever? That’s MY idea.

I’m looking forward to two things at this point:

1. Iowa trip (with additional guest appearance by my brother)
2. Vegas trip (because we haven’t been in a long time)

…and you can take that to the bank, Shakesman.

Spacebee’s birthday is this weekend. Wish her a happy birthday, Cal.  Or else.

Downhill From Here

Zach & Stacy at Big Powderhorn

Well, we got back safe and sound from Da Up North, Eh?  Had a ball in Bessemer with spacebee and the family.  As I mentioned earlier, we were afforded the unique opportunity to watch The Super Bowl at bucketheads in uptown Rhinelander.  They had $1.50 Miller Lites and free Hores Durves set out in back.  I drank three buckets of Jameson and then Stacy drove us ‘home’ to the Quality Inn.

I goddamned hate Super Bowl commercials.  “Here’s a talking (noun), buy our shit!”  “Here’s a wacky man-child (verbing) a (noun), buy our shit!”  “Here’s Tim Tebow, don’t get an abortion or prenatal care!”   Eat shit, Tim Tebow.

I skied for three days and fell down three times; that’s a shitload better than last year and I consider it a resounding success.  Let the mountains ring with God’s graciousness and ma-jest-fucking-ty!  We also returned to the infamous Pub N’ Grub for Thursday night karaoke.  All the old pals from last year were there and, again, by the end of the evening I was Marcus-n-Mcteague’n it with all of them.  Six dollar pitchers of Miller Lite and Jameson shots will do that, son. On the way back home I desperately wanted to go to (in order) the Watersmeet casino, the Lake of the Torches casino, and Ho-Chunk.  By the time we got south enough to consider Ho-Chunk, however, I just wanted to sleep on the couch the rest of the day. So… no Ho-Chunk.  I still owe wwhazz a night at the Canfield for his birthday, though, so anyone that wants in on that is welcome.

Wwhazz, thanks for doing our cat for a week.

There’s not a lot of upcoming events here at Whazzmaster Central– spacebee’s birthday is at the end of the month and at the same time (coincidentally) as my Yearly Start of Daily Wishing It Would Warm Up Already, Dammit.  I got her a birthday gift: The Big Minnie. Black. Clean. Tight Curl. Turquoise bead wrap.  Now that I look at the description that way I can’t decide whether I bought her a hat or a dildo. Say lah vee.

I really, really gotta get TNG on the Tivo.  We’ll make a space for it amid Spacebee’s ten thousand episodes of Criminal Minds.  There must be some room in all that serial killing for Data’s quest for humanity or Troi in a skin-tight leotard.  I assume that somewhere in history someone has already made a joke about a leotard being a retarded leopard, but the word still looks weird when I type it.

Pickles and grapes!

The Can-do Hotel

Our stay at the Canfield Hotel

Last night we bombed down to the Tri-State area (or is it the Quad Cities?) to have a fine old time at the Canfield Hotel and Diamond Jo’s casino (formerly a riverboat, now a Bellagio-esque resort).

Bottom line: it was the most fun of my goddamned life and I want to go again.

I wrote a review on Google Maps for the Canfield Hotel:

Great place! Affordable rates and it’s real close to the downtown area and the Diamond Jo casino. The native american mannequins in the lobby create a verisimilitude that can’t be matched, and the room was great– clean, with interesting furnishings displaying a love of cats, big and small. After waking from a night of casino action, however, I found out that the weird coffee cups near the coffeemaker had no bottoms and any liquids poured in ended up on the floor. The Rainbow Lounge in the lobby had good folks singing karaoke, too. Long story short, I will definitely stay at the Canfield again.

I gave the place 4 stars; truthfully I wanted to go 4 1/2 stars but Google’s reviews do not afford the reviewer the luxury of half-stars.  Lawman got some pictures of the Native American mannequins so maybe I’ll get those up here at some point; they’re very realistic, inexplicable, and terrifying when you first walk in.

The night was extremely fun and exciting.  It involved roulette, a fun craps session where I had two pretty good rolls, a Blackjack Buttraping, a profitable two rounds of bowling at the Cherry Lanes (apparently the bowling location of choice for recording artist Jewel according the website), some teams of douchebags at the poker tables, and much much more.

The night ended with wwhazz running many blocks to get to an ATM and back before the Rainbow Lounge bar (located in the hotel) closed for the evening.  He almost made it, too!  He also used magic and made pizzas appear right before we passed out.  There was somewhat of a row in the lobby when several gentlemen tried to apparently sneak with us up to our room to get at our pizzas and beer?  I didn’t get it; they weren’t staying in the hotel and we sure as shit didn’t invite them to accompany us.  The last thing I remember is timmer picking up his whole mattress like the incredible hulk and throwing it at me.  Then: poof, I was out like a light.

Short story long: the Canfield Hotel, Diamond Jo’s, and Cherry Lanes get my highest recommendation!  Fun fun fun!

Happy Birthday, Whazzmaster

Can’t wait for the end of today– we’ll be Eye-oh-way bound and wwhazz told me about the hotel we’ll be staying in tonight.  I’ll titilate you with a patented TripAdvisor™ customer review:

Scary Place. Good location. My wife and I were here for our anniversary and the “Americas River” music festival. We were immediately taken back by the outside, old, like something out of “Taxi Driver”. The inside was the same way, not dirty, just Scary ? Like walking into 1972. Strange odor in the lobby like one of the older Vegas hotels…Baby Powder smell ? ? and these two native american manequins on the couch ? ? ? and a couple of “transient” residents hanging out in the small lobby area. Just very wierd. We checked in, and took the rickety elevator to our room. It was like walking into my grandmas house when I was a kid. The decor and furniture was very old, a carpeted bar ? The couch was like something I would have had as a hand me down in my 1st apartment (in 1981) it was really that old ! I really felt like I was in a scary movie Everything gave us an uneasy feeling. We never even disrupted the bed, we went downstairs to tell them we weren’t staying. The owner was in the lobby (also kinda strange) he told the clerk to refund the charge on our Visa. That never happened and we disputed the charge with the credit card co. The hotel is claiming a 48 hour cancellation policy. Don’t stay here unless you have no choice.

I repeat: I cannot wait to stay overnight in this establishment.  Here’s a rough draft of how I see the night proceeding:

1. Check-in
2. Inspect the “two native american manequins” for authenticity and traces of magic
3. Take off my hoodie, put on long-sleeve shirt.
4. Walk to the casino
5. <– edited –>
6. Dinner, preferably involving shrimp
7. <– edited –>
8. Return to the hotel dripping in bling (including one piece shaped inexplicably like the St. Louis Arch,) sporting a tattoo of Frank Norris and Annixter standing back-to-back buddy movie style and waving a .38 I got from a pawn shop.
9. Take “two native american manequins” hostage
10. Sleep
11. Check-out, tipping my hat to the owner and asking him to please refund the charge on our Visa.

We’ll make revisions as necessary (can Scientist still fly in to Dubuque International Airport in time?) but I see no reason why we won’t leave as millionaires, nay, skrillionaires.  Ball small?! That’s how you get a herpe on your foot.  BALL and you’ll be sportin’ a skrillion dollar grill in no time.