Vegas 2004: Short Story Long or Vegas Strikes Back

Last year I took 1000$ to Vegas. I left with 700$. I’ll take it considering I spent a hell of a lot more than 300$. This year I took 1500$.

It.Is.All.Gone.

Now in a little baby voice “All gone!”

990$ went to gambling. 510$ went to hotels, strippers, food, cabs, etcfuckingetera.

Breakdown:

Gambling
Here’s a little story that pretty much sums up the trip. On Monday I woke up with 200$ in my pocket. I played poker, 2-4 limit, at the Flamingo for 5 hours. I lost 20$. Next I played blackjack, won 80$, took it to the craps table and lost 100$ in about seven seconds. Then I built it back up to 260$ playing blackjack which put me at down 800$ for the trip. Before catching my cab to the AP, I plopped 200$ on the craps table thinking that it would be impossible to go through an entire five-day Vegas trip without hitting my point.

Wrong it was possible. BAM! Down 1000$.

The sad thing is I actually made about 800$ playing blackjack only to lose it all and then some playing craps.

In other gaming news, I’d like to thank O’Neil for discovering 1 cent Caveman Keno, and congratulate Moneypenny for capturing the WSOCK bracelet at the Casino Royal’s 1$ challenge. His daring use of the Tetris and more importantly “the tri-pod formation” propelled him to victory where as I stubbornly refused to abandon “the structure.”

I’d also like to thank the Imperial Palace’s televised gambling tutorial for teaching me to play Let It Ride aka the dumbest game on earth and further confusing my understanding of Pai Gow Poker.

The most important lesson I learned from this trip is that 5 days in Las Vegas is too much. I arrived on Thursday night and first went to sleep at 4:30 PM on Friday. After that I averaged about 4 hours of sleep per 24, had several double-digit hours of drunkenness, and one 19-hour period where I done forgot to eat. I still can’t close my eyes without being tormented with visions of turning cards, rolling dice and the sound of slot machines. I’m broke, my brain is pudding and I’ve exposed the Bristol Stool Scale as a farcical attempt to classify the vast rainbow that the human anus is capable of producing. My big toe is swollen to 3x it’s normal size. I have no idea why. O’Neil said it might be a Binion.

Blah. I’m tagging you in, Raj, for the schlong form…

29 thoughts on “Vegas 2004: Short Story Long or Vegas Strikes Back

  1. LAS VEGAS, A SOULLESS TRAVESTY OF A VACATION

    “I still canít close my eyes without being tormented with visions of turning cards, rolling dice and the sound of slot machines.”

    nice! sounds like you took the vacation equivalent of “blading”. vegas… that place is the devil is it not? to me the worst thing is that it’s like actual work. i mean you do sometimes win $$… but it’s not like you don’t have to work for it. sometimes you work and work for example: “I played poker, 2-4 limit, at the Flamingo for 5 hours…” and then you walk away with a loss. and this is what happens MOST of the time. so why go again and again? what’s the draw? it’s like lambs to the slaughter. must be the those few times you do somehow manage to eek out a win. like crack. what about the rest of you? are you broken?

  2. Yes and no, Cal.

    Skill-based games like Blackjack and Poker share the work-like aspects of all forms of skill-based play be they Scrabble, whazz or tennis.

    Imagine this: you like running. Remember when you first ran a marathon in under four hours? Now imagine someone would have handed you a check for 500$ to go along with the joy that came along with achieving your goal. Were you not working as you ran? Would scoring cash have been a bad thing?

  3. I’m training for a 5K. It’s a lot of work, plus everybody always laughs when I say “training” and “5K” in one sentence. Jerks.

  4. i think they laugh at u cuz it’s only 3.1 miles. are u training to do it in less than 20 minutes or so? then i can see some hinkling of training in there. are u gonna use 4 hours like cal’s marathon to do this? if 4 hours is your goal, scientist might even give you a run, rather walk, for your money.

  5. way to go jen! my first 5k was also my first race of any kind adn it was w/mpenny and wwhazz! THE SAUSAGE RACE 2000!!! Mr. baseball himself fired the starting pistol.

    wwhaz i suppose you’re right, you guys like those games and you’re good at them so that helps. i do things like split kings and accidently hit on 18 cause math hurts my brain and having to remember what hand signals mean what also hurts my brain and sleazy overweight dealers making fun of me… um hurts my brain? not sure where i was going with that. anyway. don’t worry wwhaz. when the brewers win the series in october that ticket pays 1400 so you’ll be almost even.

    by the way watch out for BEAT THE STREAK 2004 COMING TO A WHAZZER NEAR YOU. details to follow.

    lvoe cla.

  6. just curious computer whazzers, what is stopping someone from signing up 5,000,000 accounts to get the 57 streak?

  7. i don’t know… you’d think they would have thought of that though. it’s probably somewhere in the fine print no? go sign up madd!

  8. madd, you are the computer nerd…what’s stopping YOU from signing up said amount of accounts?

    cal & his league’s broke mlb.com

  9. Update on my post: 2 of 3 sections are done. Thanks to wwhazz for posting your thoughts while I finish up mine. I should be done with it tomorrow sometime.

  10. Also, Cal, I think I want to strap you, ass-end down to one of the Bellagio fountains. Thanks for the idea, Wirkus.

  11. Yikes! forgot all about that.

    For those that don’t know, the Bellagio has this stupid water machine that can shoot synchronized streams of water a hundred feet in the air and make these streams sway in time with music ( say some Sinatra tune or the Beef, it’s what’s for dinner song). Very odd. At one point I turned to Raj and told him that my one goal in life was to strap his ass to one of the water cannons. This set off a string of what would happens.

    1. Instant death.
    2. The water shoots up your ass then comes out your mouth. If you cover your mouth, it shoots out your ears and or nose and eyes.
    3. The water shoots you one hundred feet into the air, you wave your arms and legs like a maniac. Everyone claps.

  12. my mind is back on. las vegas is not a nice town. As gram parsons said: las vegas, ain’t no place for a poor boy like me. the only thing I won this weekend was $50 on a nickel slot machine that I was only playing so I could score some drinks.

    Things I enjoyed:
    1. Checking out the junko north strip casinos on Monday when Wirkus was playing poker. Circus-circus? What a dump. It needs some new shit on the midway. I think they had arkanoid. Slots-o-fun? $1 craps with double odds. Hot damn.
    2. Steak with Emeril.
    3. Casino Royale. Why go all the way downtown when you can go here? The $3 craps table turned into $2 on monday. Still couldn’t win anything, though. Also, I think its the only casino with no air conditioning.
    4. Caveman Keno. He used to be a caveman, now he’s a keno runner — unfrozen caveman keno runner.

    Strange things:
    1. the downtown low rider convention. Hey, let’s block a pedestrian mall with cars.
    2. Danny deciding that a new tattoo was just what he needed after sitting by the pool so long he got sunstroke.
    3. Seeing part of that pirate show. Incredibly stupid, as in boy pirates vs girl pirates who fight by singing at each other.

  13. yo cal

    tell us a funny story from back when you helped the blind. Also, how do blind people cash checks?

  14. I had four drinks total last night and in bed by 9:30 p.m. I am officially old. Hand over the No-Fun Sombrero.

  15. thats a strange request… but ok. listen folks. back when i lived in chicago ill i was pretty unhappy. see, i moved there with my girlfriend and we promply broke up, but continued to live together. i know what your thinking… what could be bad about that? pleanty whazzers… pleanty. also, i couldn’t get a job. oh, and this exgirlfriend was constantly flirting with our upstairs neighbor named landon. many a drunken rage was caused by this man landon. but, you know, what could i do- we were “broken up”… one such drunken rage caused me to flee chicago for a week into arms of eroz, who nursed me back to health with BLT’s at nicks and talk of World Travel. that week was pretty fine. sleeping on wwhazz’s couch, oneil, video games and no shaving. so. after that week was up i went back to face my demons. and things got better. i got a job (one hell of a shitty job at a pizza place called Bada-Bing! run by strange mob type wannabe guys.) quick story about the mob type wannabes… they also owned a club called “blond” and one night i went to this club. the next day while hard at work in my Bada-Bing! baseball hat one of the guys asked me what i’d thought of the club- i said it was great, and i added “boy there were some pretty girls there!” and he gave me this weird I-don’t-trust-you-look and said slowly… “yeah… good pus.”

    GOOD PUS!

    ah yes, my kind of town… chicago. ok so i got this gig now and it’s cool- i stick it out for a couple months, then somehow i manage to get my old bank job back and then i have a regular 9-5. pretty sweet. anyway it’s spring and i’m high on life with my good banker job etc. so i think – i should start giving back to this glorious city. so this is where the blind stuff comes in. I decide to spend a couple hours a week reading to the blind. i get all signed up and i’m doing it for awhile a few hours every week after work. and i get to feeling pretty good about myself. most of the time i’d just read to a tape recorder for people to check out… like they’d bring in these books and we’d have to get them on tape. but we’d read directly to people too.. often we’d be reading lots of mail that they couldn’t read themselves… anyway there was this one guy who wanted to learn some kind of math to pass some test (?) i don’t remember. but i do remember i would get in there and he’d be like “just read this text book to me” and i would sit there reading a math text book out loud for hours a time. what the hell do i know about math? so i’d just pronounce the symbols as i saw them… i would read aloud pages and pages of math problems. “a minus x plus z less than b equals”… and here’s the thing. dude would just fall asleep. honestly, he’d listen for five minutes and then konk out. every now and then he’d wake up and be like “don’t let me fall asleep!” “I’m not here to sleep!” but i didn’t want to keep waking the poor dude up… so i just did it. i would read a math book to a sleeping guy for hours a week. and when our time was up i’d walk him to the el and we’d take the el together. and home i’d go to my exgirlfriend and landon.

    the end

  16. i want to be a fly on the wall at an apartment resided in by cla and eroz.

    not a freaky scary fly like the monster that lives at thugg mansion. more like a kind house fly that just keeps to himself.

  17. What ever happened with the flying octopus last night? I went to bed to avoid confrontation.

  18. that thing tried to seriously kill me. it would sweep in on reconasianciaincice missions, and then retreat. over and over again. playing mind games with its radioactively enlarged brain.

    on its final attack run, GMC got my back and swept in like an all black leopard and killed it.

    for a while though it provided vast entertainment/mind numbing fear.

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