just went to put some beer in the fridge and did a double take on a jar of pickles (LC/NC NSFW)
07-06-2010
, 11:57 PM
07-07-2010
, 12:01 AM
07-07-2010
, 06:13 AM
07-07-2010
, 06:35 AM
Alright guys, I promised I'd do this for the 1k post, and I doubt I'll be able to NOT post anything before the second date, so here you go. I wrote a god damn book, and I apologize thusly. TL;DR IMO
The ‘Win a Date with Bunner’ Contest Trip Report
After proceeding to drink my face off the two days prior at the fantastic 2+2 party at the Aria, I found myself on my way to Paris at nearly nine to meet up with Bunner. While not quite as amazing as that sounds, seeing as the Pokercast did not decide to spring for airline tickets to France and I was instead just headed to the casino on the Las Vegas strip, it was still exciting. At this point, I had little to no knowledge of what exactly what was in store for us, beyond that it was a scavenger hunt, and that tickets to a Cirque du Soleil show hung in the balance.
Having left fifteen minutes early, I arrive five minutes late, because Las Vegas is a cruel, cruel mistress; we still haven’t quite hashed out our traffic differences, despite having lived here for a little more than half a year. Also, Paris is an entirely confusing casino to navigate when you’re in a hurry, running from their self park to the Eiffel Tower. I almost plowed over a line of old women, but they were too busy being worried about getting into the buffet to care.
Bunner and I met outside a few minutes later, and we decided to hoof it down to New York, New York to cross our first item off of the list:
[x] Photo or ticket stub from Rollercoaster (NYNY)
After weaving through slow pedestrians, traffic, and strange men in costumes, we made it down to the casino. A quick decision was made to get some liquid courage in us first, and we headed for The Bar at Times Square for really good dueling pianos and shots. Then, around the corner, up the stairs, through the arcade, and it was time for the roller coaster.
Or, at least, the ridiculous wait for the ridiculously expensive roller coaster. But eventually, we made it to the front, and after some stupidity with a locker, we were on our way.
You can actually watch along here, though I’d turn your sound down just a little bit, because we had some screamers. At a few points, I believe we’re responsible as well.
There is another picture, where I’m throwing up a rad 2+2 gang sign, but Bunner’s still hiding that one away.
More drinks at The Bar and we hopped into a cab for the Bellagio, hoping to cross off an item in their poker room. The variance gods were against us, however, as neither of us recognized a single person in the room. Disappointed, we did what any reasonable people would do in this situation: drank more.
Eventually we gave up, even checking the pits out briefly for some degens on our way out, and made our way for the exit by the fountains. We caught a really nice fountain show, then continued on our way to O'Shea's, but along the way we were able to cross off:
[x] Picture with someone who looks like Elvis
Ok, so we found two guys dressed like Elvis, and one of them kind of looked like him. Same thing. They were quite friendly, did a terrible impression, took our tip, and bid us farewell.
It was about this time that I realized that I had blatantly lied to Bunner about how far O'Shea's was from the Bellagio (I can now tell you with confidence that it’s not kitty-corner), but we eventually made it. O'Shea's was home to our fourth drinks of the night, and also:
[x] Beer Pong Ball From O'Shea's
I really want to tell you that there’s an interesting story to getting the ball, but it really just came down to asking the bartender for one. Really. I believe it was seventy-five cents. However, if you want to believe that Bunner punched out a guy, and that I flashed everyone in the room as a distraction, more power to you. Try mentally combining them, it’s hilarious.
Right outside O’Shea’s, we found some wonderful ladies handing out porn fliers, just in time for:
[x] Picture of Bunner or whydowe_fall handing out porn/hooker brochures
Bunner grabbed some fliers from some guys, then stood to the side of the two women in the picture. They looked at him for a minute, saw that I had a camera, and then pulled him right into the middle. While I don’t know if anyone took anything from him, as I was laughing too hard to take a picture, much less focus on what was happening, I do know that he handed them all off at the end, much to my chagrin, as sometimes you just want to look at some boobs.
Not 100 feet down the strip from here, we even found the location of another item:
[x] Plastic Novelty Margarita Glass - Football or Yard Glass
The line for the vastly overpriced margaritas was short, but unmoving. In front of us, two guys from Hawaii were pouring some red powder into their drink. They offered some to us, claiming that it would make our drink taste sweeter (uh… sweeter than a blue raspberry margarita?), but we declined. The waitress found this really funny.
Around the corner, we found a zoned-out old man to take our picture. He said we were cute. Awww.
We continued on to The Venetian, still looking for the item we had been searching for in the Bellagio, but even after looking there for entirely too long, and looking entirely tacky with our football of blue liquor (supposedly, though it didn’t taste like alcohol in the slightest), we were no closer to our goal. Deciding that we couldn’t accomplish anything else on the strip, we hopped into another taxi, taking us downtown, on our quest for:
[x] Chips from five different old school casinos on Fremont Street
Our first stop was Binion’s. We wandered a bit, looking at the poker room, but it was a complete ghost town, so we stopped off at a blackjack table. While I left for the restroom, Bunner was apparently almost cut off on his first order, seeing as he ordered a drink for himself, a drink for me, and he still had the pesky football. But, things were right in the world, and the liquor continued to flow. We left the football behind and went to the next casino after a few minutes and some poor luck at the table.
We went into more casinos, none of which I could tell you the name of directly at this point. At one of them, Bunner went on a super sick heater in terms of blackjacks, about five in the span of ten hands. In another, we played some Texas Hold'em Bonus. Bunner got chided for squeezing the cards in another. And… uh… we must have gone to a fifth, but damned if I can remember it, because there were some more drinks in there. Oops. It was on Fremont Street that we spotted a souvenir shop, and we made a beeline for it to cross off:
[x] Novelty souvenir that says ‘Whatever Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas’
This large, tacky shirt was the only item in the store that had this famous slogan on it, so buy it we did, and then headed to Firefly* for dinner.
Or, at least we would have, had then been open. It was just past two at this point, and our dinner options were looking pretty grim, so we ended up sidling into the McDonalds. After a long night of scavenging and drinking and walking, my Filet-o-Fish and Fries were to die for, and reports of the fancy chicken sandwich were positive.
This is, I can guarantee you, the only situation that going to a McDonalds on a date is not only acceptable, but looked upon fondly.
Next was another cab up to the Rio, still in hot pursuit of a poker celebrity. The stipulation on this item was that they weren’t allowed to be ‘in the Rio’, and at this point we were desperate enough to get literal with this: if we’d found someone, we would have dragged them outside and called it a technicality. Perhaps fortunately for us, we found no one to bother, so we didn’t linger long, heading back to the Bellagio. It was make or break time: we would either find someone, or we’d be doing delightful shots of fountain water that would probably send us to the hospital.
Miracle of miracles, we found Dueces Cracked’s own Death Donkey at a table with a very large mountain of chips, to complete:
[x] Photo with a Poker Celebrity
With one item to go, we hopped into a cab, gave him directions to the wedding chapel, and were told by the cabbie that it was five miles away. Both of us confused as to the exactly whereabouts of ‘Las Vegas Blvd S’ for some stupid reason, we say, nah, we’ll just drive it. As the cab was already in motion, and not likely to let this fare out, he took us to Paris: exactly right across the street. Easiest money of his night, I’m sure.
By this point, having had deliciously greasy food and having laid off of the cocktails, driving was not a problem. We wound our way back through Paris (which is not nearly as large seeming when you’re not in a hurry), get in the car, look at the map, and realize that our destination was, actually, downtown. We had planned this entirely poorly.
All night long, Bunner had said that we were doing the chapel item last. It was 24 hours, he said, and you never know what magic might happen by the end of the date. No magic happened, unfortunately, because 24 hours was not exactly how long they were open. With no way to get the white board, we snapped the picture with the sign, to show that we tried. It’s gotta count, right?
[x] Return whiteboard from Cupid's Wedding Chapel
As I told Bunner, if the mob really demands it of us, we can always pick it up when we go to Cirque, and see if some magic happens then.
I drove him back to the Palms, we bid each other farewell, and I headed home. The time was five thirty in the morning.
This was entirely an amazing experience. Instead of a boring, run-of-the-mill date, the trip report of which would have bored you all to tears, we (well, I at least. I don’t know Bunner’s feelings on the whole thing) had a blast. Bunner’s a really, really charming guy, and everyone questioning if I actually won a contest here? Oh hell yes I did. Would repeat again for sure.
And, as reward for our fantastic success, the second date should happen within the next few days. Will something trip report worthy happen?
Stay tuned!
Cliffs: I had a great time, Bunner is a fun date, and the Pokercast team are my new favorite people.
The ‘Win a Date with Bunner’ Contest Trip Report
After proceeding to drink my face off the two days prior at the fantastic 2+2 party at the Aria, I found myself on my way to Paris at nearly nine to meet up with Bunner. While not quite as amazing as that sounds, seeing as the Pokercast did not decide to spring for airline tickets to France and I was instead just headed to the casino on the Las Vegas strip, it was still exciting. At this point, I had little to no knowledge of what exactly what was in store for us, beyond that it was a scavenger hunt, and that tickets to a Cirque du Soleil show hung in the balance.
Having left fifteen minutes early, I arrive five minutes late, because Las Vegas is a cruel, cruel mistress; we still haven’t quite hashed out our traffic differences, despite having lived here for a little more than half a year. Also, Paris is an entirely confusing casino to navigate when you’re in a hurry, running from their self park to the Eiffel Tower. I almost plowed over a line of old women, but they were too busy being worried about getting into the buffet to care.
Bunner and I met outside a few minutes later, and we decided to hoof it down to New York, New York to cross our first item off of the list:
[x] Photo or ticket stub from Rollercoaster (NYNY)
After weaving through slow pedestrians, traffic, and strange men in costumes, we made it down to the casino. A quick decision was made to get some liquid courage in us first, and we headed for The Bar at Times Square for really good dueling pianos and shots. Then, around the corner, up the stairs, through the arcade, and it was time for the roller coaster.
Or, at least, the ridiculous wait for the ridiculously expensive roller coaster. But eventually, we made it to the front, and after some stupidity with a locker, we were on our way.
You can actually watch along here, though I’d turn your sound down just a little bit, because we had some screamers. At a few points, I believe we’re responsible as well.
There is another picture, where I’m throwing up a rad 2+2 gang sign, but Bunner’s still hiding that one away.
More drinks at The Bar and we hopped into a cab for the Bellagio, hoping to cross off an item in their poker room. The variance gods were against us, however, as neither of us recognized a single person in the room. Disappointed, we did what any reasonable people would do in this situation: drank more.
Eventually we gave up, even checking the pits out briefly for some degens on our way out, and made our way for the exit by the fountains. We caught a really nice fountain show, then continued on our way to O'Shea's, but along the way we were able to cross off:
[x] Picture with someone who looks like Elvis
Ok, so we found two guys dressed like Elvis, and one of them kind of looked like him. Same thing. They were quite friendly, did a terrible impression, took our tip, and bid us farewell.
It was about this time that I realized that I had blatantly lied to Bunner about how far O'Shea's was from the Bellagio (I can now tell you with confidence that it’s not kitty-corner), but we eventually made it. O'Shea's was home to our fourth drinks of the night, and also:
[x] Beer Pong Ball From O'Shea's
I really want to tell you that there’s an interesting story to getting the ball, but it really just came down to asking the bartender for one. Really. I believe it was seventy-five cents. However, if you want to believe that Bunner punched out a guy, and that I flashed everyone in the room as a distraction, more power to you. Try mentally combining them, it’s hilarious.
Right outside O’Shea’s, we found some wonderful ladies handing out porn fliers, just in time for:
[x] Picture of Bunner or whydowe_fall handing out porn/hooker brochures
Bunner grabbed some fliers from some guys, then stood to the side of the two women in the picture. They looked at him for a minute, saw that I had a camera, and then pulled him right into the middle. While I don’t know if anyone took anything from him, as I was laughing too hard to take a picture, much less focus on what was happening, I do know that he handed them all off at the end, much to my chagrin, as sometimes you just want to look at some boobs.
Not 100 feet down the strip from here, we even found the location of another item:
[x] Plastic Novelty Margarita Glass - Football or Yard Glass
The line for the vastly overpriced margaritas was short, but unmoving. In front of us, two guys from Hawaii were pouring some red powder into their drink. They offered some to us, claiming that it would make our drink taste sweeter (uh… sweeter than a blue raspberry margarita?), but we declined. The waitress found this really funny.
Around the corner, we found a zoned-out old man to take our picture. He said we were cute. Awww.
We continued on to The Venetian, still looking for the item we had been searching for in the Bellagio, but even after looking there for entirely too long, and looking entirely tacky with our football of blue liquor (supposedly, though it didn’t taste like alcohol in the slightest), we were no closer to our goal. Deciding that we couldn’t accomplish anything else on the strip, we hopped into another taxi, taking us downtown, on our quest for:
[x] Chips from five different old school casinos on Fremont Street
Our first stop was Binion’s. We wandered a bit, looking at the poker room, but it was a complete ghost town, so we stopped off at a blackjack table. While I left for the restroom, Bunner was apparently almost cut off on his first order, seeing as he ordered a drink for himself, a drink for me, and he still had the pesky football. But, things were right in the world, and the liquor continued to flow. We left the football behind and went to the next casino after a few minutes and some poor luck at the table.
We went into more casinos, none of which I could tell you the name of directly at this point. At one of them, Bunner went on a super sick heater in terms of blackjacks, about five in the span of ten hands. In another, we played some Texas Hold'em Bonus. Bunner got chided for squeezing the cards in another. And… uh… we must have gone to a fifth, but damned if I can remember it, because there were some more drinks in there. Oops. It was on Fremont Street that we spotted a souvenir shop, and we made a beeline for it to cross off:
[x] Novelty souvenir that says ‘Whatever Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas’
This large, tacky shirt was the only item in the store that had this famous slogan on it, so buy it we did, and then headed to Firefly* for dinner.
Or, at least we would have, had then been open. It was just past two at this point, and our dinner options were looking pretty grim, so we ended up sidling into the McDonalds. After a long night of scavenging and drinking and walking, my Filet-o-Fish and Fries were to die for, and reports of the fancy chicken sandwich were positive.
This is, I can guarantee you, the only situation that going to a McDonalds on a date is not only acceptable, but looked upon fondly.
Next was another cab up to the Rio, still in hot pursuit of a poker celebrity. The stipulation on this item was that they weren’t allowed to be ‘in the Rio’, and at this point we were desperate enough to get literal with this: if we’d found someone, we would have dragged them outside and called it a technicality. Perhaps fortunately for us, we found no one to bother, so we didn’t linger long, heading back to the Bellagio. It was make or break time: we would either find someone, or we’d be doing delightful shots of fountain water that would probably send us to the hospital.
Miracle of miracles, we found Dueces Cracked’s own Death Donkey at a table with a very large mountain of chips, to complete:
[x] Photo with a Poker Celebrity
With one item to go, we hopped into a cab, gave him directions to the wedding chapel, and were told by the cabbie that it was five miles away. Both of us confused as to the exactly whereabouts of ‘Las Vegas Blvd S’ for some stupid reason, we say, nah, we’ll just drive it. As the cab was already in motion, and not likely to let this fare out, he took us to Paris: exactly right across the street. Easiest money of his night, I’m sure.
By this point, having had deliciously greasy food and having laid off of the cocktails, driving was not a problem. We wound our way back through Paris (which is not nearly as large seeming when you’re not in a hurry), get in the car, look at the map, and realize that our destination was, actually, downtown. We had planned this entirely poorly.
All night long, Bunner had said that we were doing the chapel item last. It was 24 hours, he said, and you never know what magic might happen by the end of the date. No magic happened, unfortunately, because 24 hours was not exactly how long they were open. With no way to get the white board, we snapped the picture with the sign, to show that we tried. It’s gotta count, right?
[x] Return whiteboard from Cupid's Wedding Chapel
As I told Bunner, if the mob really demands it of us, we can always pick it up when we go to Cirque, and see if some magic happens then.
I drove him back to the Palms, we bid each other farewell, and I headed home. The time was five thirty in the morning.
This was entirely an amazing experience. Instead of a boring, run-of-the-mill date, the trip report of which would have bored you all to tears, we (well, I at least. I don’t know Bunner’s feelings on the whole thing) had a blast. Bunner’s a really, really charming guy, and everyone questioning if I actually won a contest here? Oh hell yes I did. Would repeat again for sure.
And, as reward for our fantastic success, the second date should happen within the next few days. Will something trip report worthy happen?
Stay tuned!
Cliffs: I had a great time, Bunner is a fun date, and the Pokercast team are my new favorite people.
Last edited by whydowe_fall; 07-07-2010 at 06:36 AM.
Reason: my favorite part is how I'm clever and witty at the beginning, and just stopped caring by the end. it's also 3:30am...
07-07-2010
, 08:18 AM
07-07-2010
, 01:53 PM
07-07-2010
, 04:25 PM
07-07-2010
, 04:34 PM
07-07-2010
, 04:40 PM
07-07-2010
, 09:37 PM
07-07-2010
, 10:13 PM
07-07-2010
, 10:42 PM
If $3 sng players had a brain, this would look really suspicious:
Grabbed by Holdem Manager
NL Holdem $4,000(BB) Full Tilt
SB ($71,090)
BB ($27,485)
CO ($82,895)
Hero ($88,530)
BB antes $500
CO antes $500
Hero antes $500
SB antes $500
Dealt to Hero 2
4
fold, fold, SB calls $2,000, BB checks
FLOP ($10,000) K 5
7
SB bets $4,000, BB raises to $12,000, SB calls $8,000
TURN ($34,000) K 5 7 8
SB bets $4,000, BB raises to $10,985 (AI), SB folds
BB wins $42,000
Grabbed by Holdem Manager
NL Holdem $4,000(BB) Full Tilt
SB ($71,090)
BB ($27,485)
CO ($82,895)
Hero ($88,530)
BB antes $500
CO antes $500
Hero antes $500
SB antes $500
Dealt to Hero 2
4 fold, fold, SB calls $2,000, BB checks
FLOP ($10,000) K
5 7 SB bets $4,000, BB raises to $12,000, SB calls $8,000
TURN ($34,000) K
5 7 8 SB bets $4,000, BB raises to $10,985 (AI), SB folds
BB wins $42,000
07-08-2010
, 01:46 AM
07-08-2010
, 03:43 AM
07-08-2010
, 04:43 AM
07-08-2010
, 04:53 AM