I Can't Believe I Ate The Whole Thing!

Lookee! A report! Kind of.

Insert all other reports here. Arrived, ate, played poker, saw good people, gambled, drank a bit, ate more, left. Good eggs, etc, etc..

I mean, why be repetitive? You know how these things go by now. Okay, fiiiiine, here are the highlights of a busy 5.5 days.

Small group this year. Around 40 in the tournament. The group of veterans of previous gatherings who were in New Orleans certainly cut the numbers down a bit. So be it. People can do what they want.

Brought my friend along so she could experience what I always rave about. This led to a tour of the classics for me.

Robuchon was as incredible as ever. This time the chef came out to talk to another table, and I noticed the tri-coloured collar on his jacket. The sign of a M.O.F. - the highest order of achievement of artistry in France (for many categories, cuisine among them). This should have come as no surprise, yet I was still impressed.

é was it's usual creative best, save for the annoying guest who felt it was his duty to educate his friends (often incorrectly) about what they were eating. The staff was visibly annoyed/amused, and the sous-chef for the evening focused on us as it was clear the other party couldn't hear him over their braying companion.

Craftsteak was delicious, even if we had to cover the cost of flakes who bailed last-minute, despite my rather clear exhortations to let me know ahead of time. Next time I think we aim for multiple small groups.

Raku was solid, but disappointing only because I've been there before and it didn't live up to past visits. A clearly missing broth course (that bowl and spoon wasn't for fried fish, I guarantee you), and the definite impression of at least one or two more courses missing (asparagus? chicken on a bed of spinach? where were you?). What was served was excellent, but if costs have gone up, then I wouldn't mind paying a bit more to get the full experience.

The last night's meal was at FIX, courtesy of Grange, and it was a great way to end the trip. Good company, good drinks, imported brandy (thanks Lori!) all adds up to a fine meal.

Also grabbed some fries and a beer with OhCaptain, Absinthetics, Nickerson, and Atarifan in there too.

Ziplining was freezing, but fun nonetheless. Maybe I'll get some video of my legs flying through the air up here sometime. Or some pictures at least.

The Neon Museum on Sunday was also pretty chilly, but the place looks far more orderly since the visitor's center went in. Pics eventually.

Managed to grab a bottle of can't-find-at-home liquor (Swedish Punsch) at Total Wine. Struck out on high-end whiskeys this time, but what can you do? I got good beer, some of it even free from Nate/Atarifan (yay backpack of alcohol!). Sadly, I didn't catch up with Grange in time again to snag an offered free bottle of Templeton. Them's the breaks... Superman slots were being too kind to me, and night photography outside the Bellagio is hard to pass up.

Even hit the north outlets and bought clothes and sunglasses. Although I think I could have got the shades cheaper back home.

Saw Beatles Love for the second time (first time was... wow, 8 years ago), and actually stayed awake through it (yay caffeine mints!). Great show, great seats.

Saw what's become of the IP. Bones are still there, but it's a scarily sterile place now.

Went out halfway in the tournament, but my last-longer partner Vinnay went out as Gigli on 0 hours of sleep in the previous 30ish hours, so I don't feel too bad. Then made a bit of profit playing cash at Monte Carlo with CK, Grange, Penner, Mondo, Katie, Matt, and some random others, I recall Drizz railing for a bit too. Hope I'm not missing anyone. Oh yah, and Bayne finally joined us too. This is where some Edmontonian convinced Grange and Katie to bet on a terrible hockey game.Suckers.

Railed BrainMC at Pai Gow, but when I finally sat down to a game, only Penner was still around. It's for the best, as the dealers hated me and kept taking my money away, so I may have been dubbed worlds worst Pai Gow player if there were more witnesses.

Some craps was played and some slots. A wee touch of bad video poker too. All told, I ended up a small amount. Enough to cover... well... not much. Gas? Resort fees? But it's better than a loss. And as always, not the point of the trip.

See you all same time next year? Super.

It's rapidly approaching that time of year again.

The hap-hapiest time.

With brightly coloured lights, friends sharing food and drink, laughter abounding, stories being told over the warm glow of green felt tabletops.

WPBT time is next weekend. Remember when there used to be blogs about it?

I'm once again in town for my maximum tolerance level, and have once again crammed my schedule full of food and fun. Maybe even a comet this time around, depending on the power of our mighty sun. All hail Sol, destroyer of icy rocks.

I think we've got 13 people lined up for Craftsteak on Friday night so far. Still room for more if you're interested.

I'm running through my schedule in my head. I think I have a window of not doing anything early Thursday afternoon, and of course, post-midnight every day. Of course, this is under the assumption that my last longer partner Vinnay and I end up heads-up in the tournament. I see no reason to doubt that will come to pass.

But hey, Pai Gow and craps are always better after the witching hour, with a stomach bloated with food and a liver working on fine wine and cocktails. Which reminds me to check on my caffeine supply. Ah Vegas, land of health. Hell, dinner on Saturday starts at 10pm. Positively European... except that it's Japanese.

I suppose I should try and get this up before I end up back in Vegas (that's February).

I've been going to these things since the summer of 2006 (I missed the Winter gathering that year though), and they're always a good time. This year was no exception, although things were a bit different.

These weekends used to be preceded by warnings of how to drink properly and maintaining a buddy system so someone would run a welfare check on you if you disappeared after 29 hours of greyhounds and soco shots. Now people talk about running in marathons and hiking through canyons.

Something something growing up.

For me, it's always about seeing friends I see but once a year, twice if I'm lucky.  It could be a weekend in an empty room with food and bathroom breaks and it'd still be a good time with this group. Of course, we'd undoubtedly come up with new forms of gambling by the end of it.

I arrived, I played slots and craps and poker and the like. I drank, but nowhere near to excess. I ate tasty food, had an ambulance called for me, worried a dozen people, talked hockey with a celebrity, walked through some hills, took a bunch of photos, and lost a few bucks. All-in-all, a good time

The Hike

Dan/Peaker posted an innocent question a month or so before the trip - "I want to go on a hike, is anybody interested?" 14 of us said "YES!" and he now had to herd cats bloggers.

Amazingly, everyone showed up on time. It should be stated that "on time" means "within half an hour of the we're-leaving-without-out deadline". We drove out to the wilderness, where any able-bodied mountain climber turned runner could easily subdue and bury 14 people that would never be found. Surprisingly, that's not foreshadowing.

The hike, despite Dan's claims of it being "at least a class 15, uphill both ways, definitely requiring crampons and years of training" was mostly a nice walk through some rocks and over a creek. I took pictures.













There was something like an 80% survival rate, which I think is pretty good.

That was Friday morning. Little did I know that an aquatic creature would nearly kill me that night.

The Ambulance

Post-hike was the usual activities of cleaning up, gambling, having a couple drinks, and patching together plans for diner. It was Friday on the Strip, so options seemed limited. But in today's world of apps, making a reservation for 4 that becomes 7 that becomes 12 is fairly easy. To China Poblano we did go. It's a solid restaurant that I've enjoyed in the past.

We took over our table, ordered a whack of dishes for the table, and generally had a good time. My drink took longer than expected to arrive, but I didn't care. The food arrived, and I dove into the tuna ceviche. With a crunch.

I called over the waitress and asked what was in their ceviche. She ran through the list of ingredients, finishing with "pecans".  Right, that would be the issue. I calmly explained my nut allergy, and she calmly went into an "ohshitohshitohshit" panic.

The thing with my nut allergy - it takes a little bit to kick in, so I'm never sure if I caught it in time. Those around me worried, and I collected my thoughts. I sucked on some lemons, a trick that used to work fairly well, but not so much this time. I felt the anaphylaxis coming on and asked Carol to get me some Benadryl. I'd already asked the hostess for some, but she seemed to have missed that memo.

As the staff was converging on me and asking if I wanted paramedics, or anything, Carol returned with the magic pink knock-out pills. I took a couple, and then left with the nice security man to fill out a report and determine if a hospital visit was in order. Again, Carol was great and stuck with me to make sure I wasn't knocked over the head and buried on a hiking trail to avoid liability and lawsuits.

Form filled out and lip noticeably swelled, I decided paramedics wouldn't suck. My Canadian brain was estimating US hospital costs and trying to remember if I had to let my insurance provider know before or after the trip in order to be paid back. Of course, not knowing my policy # or anything didn't help. I was led through the back halls of the Cosmopolitan, which are pretty boring, and by the time I was downstairs, the paramedics had arrived.

The first two through the door had a stretcher... for the person who had fallen and whacked their head in the elevator.  My guys came afterwards. A bit of discussion and more forms later, we all agreed that the Benadryl was doing its thing and they couldn't do much more for me outside of charging me ridiculous sums of money. I was on the road to recovery.

Back through the casino to my awaiting friends who had polished off what I'm sure was a delicious dinner. People seemed relieved that I was alive, then asked if I was upset they had already started joking about my death. Seeing as how I'd be the first to do the same if it was them, no hard feelings were had.

Of course, the restaurant didn't comp a single damned thing off the menu. But Michelle wielded her mighty might and talked them into taking off all the orders of the offending ceviche of death. Someone forgot to tell the waiter though, who then chased us out of the restaurant for the missing portion of the bill. Then he questioned Michelle's math while Carol stormed back in to grab the hostess. It was incredibly amusing to see the waiter wilt under Michelle's glare while the hostess came out like a scolded pet behind an angry local. Needless to say, all was quickly settled and we continued on our way.

The interesting thing about Benadryl is that it knocks you on your ass. More fun is when you've consumed a high-caffeine mint or two just before dinner and they're fighting it out, swimming in the booze you've consumed between those times.  The best option is of course to play poker on a screwed-up table with wooden posts all over it.

I think I said "it might be the Benadryl talking, but..." more than a few times during that game. I left a winner. "I almost died tonight" also came into play when needed. When did I ever claim to have pride?

Thanks to my two "moms" for the night in Carol and April. Who had various medications spread between the two of them and made sure to ask repeatedly how I was doing. It was appreciated, as I was myself a bit unsure about being alone until I knew I was in the clear.

The Tournament

The centrepiece of these gatherings is the tournament.The whole lot shows up to play bad poker for not insignificant winnings.

This lot:



I went out relatively early to my lust for Grange's mugs. Two beautiful copper Moscow Mule mugs were his bounty, and I wanted them. I doubled him up, and then gave him the rest of my chips on hands I have since forgotten. What a dick. To get him back, I had dinner with him and PokerVixen and OnAFoldDraw later that night at Herbs and Rye. I may not know what "get him back" means.


As with all tournaments, you want to go out early or in the money. I had plenty of time after my ousting to lose money and have some more drinks. To BrainMC and Chilly - Hey orange! You're up!

The tournament went until 11ish and finished with CJ beating TheWookieWay. I missed the 10th and 9th place finishers I think. But managed to grab a shot of the final 8.



The final two looked like this:



It was obvious from early on that CJ would win. Why? Because his flight left at 11:20, so the Poker Gods would make sure he was in the tournament as late as possible. He could have pushed every hand heads-up and he would have won. Maybe he did. I left about 3 minutes before it wrapped up. Congrats to everyone who cashed though.

The Rest

I had some great meals - Carnevino with Fuel, Bayne, and a buddy of Fuel's. Steak aged something like 8 months that tasted great, but fell short of what I expected. I'm happy I did it, I don't need to do it again. Fantastic wine.  Herbs and Rye with Grange, Poker Vixen, and On A Fold Draw meant some good drinks (Mule, and a solid Blood and Sand), and way too much food. Tao was worth doing as well, but like much of the Venetian, the menu is showing its age, trends have moved beyond the trends it was catering to. That said, I wouldn't have passed up dinner with the Penners and Brian if it had been at McDonald's. Carol also introduced me to Bachi Burger on my way out of town, which is on my list of places to return to. Great burgers.

I once again missed the chance to greet the runners as they finished. I tried to make it over there with a Penner and his fiancée, but we severely underestimated the crowds and route and made it too late. I did, however, spend the night post-dinner with a few of those who ran, and many who didn't, around a poker table in the Mirage. I left down cash, but up huge in fun. You haven't played advanced poker until you've called off 2/3 of your stack with K2o on a board that completely missed you. I made the right read on Penner the younger, he just had slightly less nothing than I thought... oops.

I met Wil Wheaton who had made it out for the first time in years, and he came across as a genuinely nice guy who was happy to be among friends.  I also took some of his money with a boat over his pair of 4s, and shot the shit about hockey with him. He's a notorious Leafs-basher, but after a couple shots (we've heard 'em all), he seemed to actually be interested in what the fanbase of the most loved/hated team in the league is like. Regardless of your team, all us hockey fans just want them back on the ice.

I brought contraband across the border in the form of Kinder Eggs for Absinthetics. I do hope his family hasn't choked to death... they seem really nice.

Drinks with the Nassis (wow, you've got to be careful typing that), Marty, Chilly, F-Train and M. Templeton rye at the bar by the sports book (it lives up to the hype. The rye, not the bar). Walking the strip with Alan and Kat (not that one, the one he's engaged to). More poker than I've played in previous trips with various friends. Up all night playing video roulette with Vinnay (bastard wins a bunch, I continue to lose). Learning open-face Chinese poker with Vinnay and Carol in Vinnay's room when we should have really all gone to sleep already. Getting a ride with LVCabChronicles and it being the cheapest airport-to-Aria ride EVER (seriously, $14.50! Everyone else was ripped off). Losing money to friends. Winning money from friends. Watching my MLife points climb at way too terrible an exchange rate. Being mildly insulted by Grange and his fervent anti-Canadianism (aka: jealousy).

Oh, and finding an incredibly hard to get bottle of boubon at a liquor store on the way to the airport. Like needle-in-a-field-full-of-haystacks hard.

All great memories. I'm sure I've missed some, and missed people. I apologize, no slights were intentional.

It was also a year of change. The IP is now no more. It's The Quad now. The Geisha bar was gone before we got there. I didn't even go in the IP this year, and only passed it on my way to dinner in the Venetian. This was our traditional meeting spot. The cheapest rooms on the strip, dealertainers, and $5 Pai Gow and craps. I couldn't tell you what it looks like now. That was a refrain often heard - "I haven't even been near it." The Aria is the new base of operations. The Excalibur made its return as the cheap game and cheap bar venue of choice. This decentralization seemed to help - people had to reach out. Texts and tweets were frequently sent as people sought out the next thing that was going on. I spent more time with more people than previous years. It was a sentiment I heard echoed a few times. In many ways, this diaspora brought the community closer together. I definitely look forward to 2013, where I expect to see at least some of you outside of Vegas before we all reconvene.

And I'll throw in a couple more pictures. These from the walk from the Aria to Venetian during the marathon. All these and more are also over here.










Is it next December yet?

Many of these made it into the trip report. Some didn't. I hope you like them.  The whole set can be found here. Nearly every one looks better viewed larger, so I suggest clicking on them. It's about time I redid this place so it was more photo-friendly.


The best gin & tonic I've had. Can't wait for the next.


This guy started our Neon Boneyard tour


Yucca tree, in neon


The signs just pile up. I keep seeing this as Sassy Sally's Binions


Some bits and pieces may someday spell something.


Quack


Giant skull. Desert. Not creepy at all.


I think this is my favourite shot from the whole trip.


Really, not that bad a view.


This one is close to my favourite.


And this one gives the favourite a run for its money too.


I spent far too much time playing with long exposures.


Without the 3D effect, it's actually kind of a dull shot.


Bellagio's winter display.


Not really Paris


Also, not New York, but don't tell the Post Office


Most of the reasons I went in the first place. Good eggs, every one.

Finally, I'm wrapping this thing up. Amazing that I got the trip report out before I found myself back in Vegas (that would be mid-January).

Day 4.  Of course, I don't request a late checkout even though I'm red-eyeing it back. So I have to be out by 11am, and I crashed sometime around 5.  Easy.

Up, shower, pack, and check out right on time.  Absinthetics was kind enough to offer his room up to keep my bags in. His mistake as I undoubtedly woke him up for it.  Lesson taught to another American - don't offer Canadians kindnesses, we'll assume you're sincere and take you up on them :).

Bags stowed, I made my way to the Aria sportsbook bar for some good ol' fashioned... umm... whatever is done at the bar by the sportsbook. See, I ain't much of a football fan, but I do like seeing people.  So I hung out, grabbed some quesadilla and wings and beer, and chatted a bit.

At some point, Jordan announced there was cake coming.  It showed up. It looked like this:



It turns out that Pokerist sponsored a whole bunch of stuff for our charming group of degenerates. An extra grand into the team last longer, a bar and food tab on Sunday, and this lovely cake that was about 5x more cake than was needed to feed our group. It was rather tasty to boot, and apparently made by the premiere Vegas cake-makers. I also hear it weighed about a ton.

Very cool of them.

People cheered and sweat and cried about their sportsball teams winning or losing or beating spreads or somesuch.  Myself and OhCaptain opted to wander a bit with cameras in hand.

Between Aria and Crystals is this sculpture:



The ol' refocus your eyes for 3D trick.

We made our way to The Bellagio to see their winter display.  We voted unanimously that it was last year's re-organized and therefore not all that impressive. I have pictures of the penguins and igloos and such, but the reality is that I'm not overly thrilled with most of what I grabbed.  Maybe I'll be able to edit them enough to find something interesting, but for now, there's this:



Outside the Bellagio, we crossed the driveway to see what we could see. Turns out, you can see Paris.



From there, I didn't get too much, but the Cap'n kept snapping.  Hopefully he'll have those pictures posted somewhere at some point. We swung by M&M World, a stop I figured I wouldn't be making this trip, and of course picked up a bag of coconut M&Ms.

Can I mention that the street mascots are all a bit creepy? I can? Good, because they are.

Wandered back through Monte Carlo to Aria, a route that would come in handy later when I was schlepping my bag down the strip. It was determined that the Monte Carlo is about the most boring casino on the strip. Zero character, zero effort.  It was an excitement-sucking vortex of meh.

It was a good walk with another photographer. The last time Cap and I wandered around with our cameras (outside of the Neon Boneyard, but that's different) was Niagara Falls at Eh-Vegas a few years ago. I'm always intrigued by the pictures other people see and their attitudes towards photography.  One of the most fun ways to learn anything is from someone else.

Back at home base, I found myself with time to spare. The Sportsbook bar was dying down, the marathoners were warming up, and the bar was largely empty.  I decided to roll some dice.

Big mistake.

I was impressed Aria was running $10 tables, so I opted for them instead of the $15. Oops. The $15 table was cheering for hours. My table was ICE FUCKING COLD. I blew through my buy-in in around 30 minutes and was down for the trip because of it. Shit. The table was empty and stayed that way for at least an hour afterwards. Nobody was going near the cursed felt.

I, however, couldn't resist the siren call of the Blazing 7's machine. Which promptly handed me around $500 or so, easing my pain.  During this, April let me know that there was an entourage heading to Mandalay Bay to cheer on the marathoners.

Right, the runners. So a bunch of our group was running in a half marathon because they are insane I assume. By this point they'd been pounding the pavement for a while and were expected to hit the finish line in the not-too-distant future. The tale that ran beneath this whole trip was Dan training this group to run this thing, and the tragedies both major and minor that were befalling them in the final days.

Dan almost didn't make it to Vegas because of cancelled flights, but was saved by blogger hearts.

Much bigger was Otis. His father passed away days before, and it was widely expected that he wasn't going to make the trip so soon after the funeral. Nobody could possibly blame him for wanting to spend time with his family, grieving someone who sounds like a great dad. Our thoughts were all with him.

Then the note from him - he was coming after all. His family had convinced him that he couldn't abandon what he'd spent the better part of the year working towards. He needed this run. He needed the accomplishment. And he needed his friends. As word spread among our group, smiles went with it. Partly because we all wanted to see the guy, and largely because we here happy for him and his ability to complete this journey.

They all finished. Otis raising his hands in victory and creating a memory for everyone watching. Or so I hear.  Pauly sums it up well over here.

See, I had grabbed my bags and meandered towards Manadaly Bay (no easy feat with a stuffed check bag in tow). But by the time I got there, the group had already made it out to the street to cheer the runners. Cell service was crap out there, so tweets and texts looking for them went unheeded. I finally figured out where they were after a quick run-in with Garth, and realized there was no way I was getting to them with bag in tow.  The bell desk was a nightmare with all the runners and guests, so I found a spot, and kept an eye out, but saw nobody I knew. I eventually had to turn around find my way to a cab and my flight. I wish I'd been able to stay the extra day so I could have better participated in the festivities.

At least there was Twitter so I could send my congrats and follow along with the action from afar.

I joined the throngs of runners and their friends and family leaving Mandalay via tram. I wandered the bridge to the Tropicana, snapping shots along the way.



I feared the closures and increase in people would result in a taxi issue, so I had budgeted extra time for the airport trip. Turns out I either timed things well or was wrong.  The taxi stand at the Trop had a few people, but nothing tragic.  The first cab that pulled up took a couple people, and the next guy in line begged to come along, as it was an SUV and he was also going to the airport with his wife. The cabbie agreed and then asked if anyone else was going to the airport solo.  I raised my hand and skipped the line.

Immediately the driver was letting us know how pissed he was with the marathon. The shift to a night run (it had previously been in the afternoon) really screwed things up for the cab industry that night. Road closures, HUGE traffic jams, and a lot of pissed off tourists had made for a bad night. We were his first Tropicana pickup (a favourite spot of his) and first airport run of the night. Refreshing surliness aside, he was the best cabbie I'd had this trip.  He backroaded and shortcut to avoid traffic and we were there in no time. As we approached McCarran he pointed at the highway - backed up for miles as traffic hit the Strip, and we were all glad we had a guy who knew what he was doing.

I was the first drop, and he came out to grab my bags for me. I handed him double the total fare and wished him a better night. I figured after all the crappy cabs I'd had so far, this guy deserved my appreciation.  I have no idea what he got from the other two groups in there, but I hope they tipped well.

Airport was a breeze, no crowds, no lines. Leaving me with tons of time to spare.

Sadly, food options were severely limited, and after Jaleo, Raku, and Carnevino, I was forced to order from royalty, his highness, the Burger King. Talk about a long fall. Still, it was food-like, and it filled a hole.

Flight home was spent largely asleep, and all was well. Another trip over. Down cash, up far more in worth was the fun and memories.  I can't wait to do it all again next year.  By then I expect someone will have created a time dilation device so that we can all hang out a bit more.  There's never enough time.

Let's see if I can get this one in a single post.

Saturday - Tournament day! We'll get to that.

So, up at the crack of enough-time-for-breakfast. I fire out a "anyone want more Wicked Spoon?" tweet, only be told Maigrey beat me to the punch because it was so awesome the day before. So I tag along with group, getting there about a plate or two in. Still, it's plenty of time to sample what I missed the day before (still very good) and head to the tournament.

See, that wasn't so painful. I pied-pipered the group back through Crystals to the poker room at Aria, signed up both myself and my last-longer team, caught up with some folks, grabbed BrainMC's nuts, and found my seat.

Oh wait... before it all started, we grabbed the group photo.  I played backup photog in a crappy spot, while OhCaptain perched on high to get what I assume are better pictures.  However, here is the best I grabbed.



Who was I seated with? It's been a while, so apologies to the one person I think I'm forgetting.  There was CJ, Drizz, Alcanthang, Maigrey, Jordan's buddy, a couple women I didn't know, eventually WhoJedi I think, and the mystery person my brain refuses to acknowledge even though I knew them.

Anyway, cards in the air, chatter and bounties and all that.  Hey! Jd, rest of the Royal on the board! Awh, couldn't get the final call on the river, showed the stone cold nuts anyway. Up a bit.  Ooo! Aces.  Won a little. Hammer drop (first at the table).  Al saw into my soul when the 7 hit on the turn and wisely folded, yes a legit hammer win.

Then I bled chips for a while... NOBODY got knocked out until PokerVixen saw the rail after the 2nd round. Then people relaxed, knowing they wouldn't own a copy of Gigli.  I went down sometime after the break when I shoved my KK preflop and Al called with AQ because he wanted my bounty (pic of your choice).  JT7 flop. Yah, no doubt here... K on the turn for my set, his nut straight, and I went home.  Seems only fair that I got KO'd by Al (who ran like a god for most of the tournament I hear), a minor bit of retribution for our HU battle a couple years back.  So yet another blogger gets a copy of the Vegas sunrise shot.  I should get on contacting Al about that.

So I'm out. I'm not particularly upset about it. Disappointed, sure, but it's hard to get mad in a friendly game like this one.I wander a bit, tell Dawn that she's the lone shining light for Team Bedrock (BrainMC being KO'd a few minutes before me), and decide to wander a bit.  Back to the room for a bit, and I fire out a text asking where I'm having dinner and with whom.  CK gets back to me pronto and plans are made.

Showered, changed, and back downstairs I once again swing by the tournament, shoot the shit a bit, and go back out on the floor (because watching live poker, even when it's friends, is boring, and I feel like I'm intruding on their play).  I wander by a bank of slots.

Normally, I ignore the video penny slots that nobody understands the workings of. 15 lines? 5 credits per line? No idea what wins? It's basic insanity. But one caught my eye.  "Do you like games with Gladiators?" DO I?? Airplane! The slot machine!

I plunk my ass down, drop $100 in, and bet the max.  BONUS!  Touch a square! Huh? Er... ok... touch.. nothing... touch... nothing.  Touch the right thing -- BONUS!! Touch passengers! Uh... ok... touch... touch... touch... bonus, bonus, bonus. Super bonus! Double bonus! Spinny give me money bonus! I have no idea what's going on, but I keep winning. On my first spin. Oh hell do I like games with gladiators.

When it finally ends, I have something like 18000 credits. Sweet. $180. Seems like a lot of work for $80 though. Wait... that's waaay more than I started with. Oh! It's a nickel machine! $900! Wheee.

So I play it down a bit. Hit another bonus, play that down and cash out. Put in another hundo, hit more bonuses, and cash out. I walk away with around $1100.  That definitely makes up for lack of tournament winning. Airplane! The Slot Machine is awesome.

Dinner isn't until 9:30, so I find more railbirds and chat it up. Numbono, PokahDave, F-Train, etc.. The final table is rocking 50% women, including my teammate Dawn Summers.  I'm hoping the "member of Astin's team wins the tournament" streak continues, but alas, she crushes all my hopes and dreams by going out 4th. Um, I mean... great job Dawn! Congrats to Chilly's friend for taking the whole thing down (right? It's been awhile. There was a chop at 3 I think.)

Wander wander wander.  Bar, slots, bar, tourney.  Chilly taking prop bets on how many toenails he has painted (answer: 1).  Finally, dinner time arrives, I grab my coat and head out with CK, Grange, and CaityCaity to Carnevino.

Never been before.  Will be back in January.  Carol did the ordering with some minor input from the rest of us and the waiter, and the meal was top-notch.

Bison chop, lamb, sweetbreads (my choice, and the most unexciting part of the meal, but I'm spoiled by the best sweetbreads in the world available in Toronto), pastas, carpaccio, crudo, house-cured pastrami, and more. The food was great, the conversation and company better. But isn't that how these WPBT things are supposed to work? Everything we do, the tournament, the outings, the gambling, the dinners, the drinks -- they're all noise around the core purpose of meeting up with awesome people.

Dinner wrapped up, and I finally made it to the IP. The moment I walked in those broken doors, I realized that I hadn't felt like I was in Vegas until right then. The Aria is very nice. The Excalibur is cheesy. Dinners at fancy restaurants are delicious. But with this group, and these trips, the Imperial Palace is home.

And what does one do in the IP? One sits down at a table and plays PAI GOW!!! I can't remember how much I lost there, but it was worth the price of admission to joke around with BrainMC, Maigrey, and the rotating cast of friends showing off their Pai Gow skills. Hours and a few drinks later I plunked down at The Ghostbusters slots because craps was looking too full.  Turns out that Slimer also wants to give me money because I walked up a couple hundred in a game I couldn't seem to lose.

By this time it was about half past ridiculous o'clock in the morning and I grabbed a cab back (the long away around, I REALLY need to pay better attention to the cabbies who are ripping me off) to Aria with Absinthentics and called it a night.

Next up - the final day, a small photo walk, and runners.

Full set of Neon Boneyard shots can be found here.  More added as I get around to it.

The concept of Vegas as being 24/7 nonstop action is a bit of a myth.  Mid-day is a pretty open period as people groan off their buffet indulgences, realize that three hours of sleep wasn't really enough, or just find a nice poker table to sit down to for the next 8 hours. Sure, there are still people at the bar, but the real drunkery doesn't get seen until late at night when 21-year old girls in little black dresses keep trying to hold up the buildings as they stumble around vaguely recalling what hotel they're staying in.

During nearly all my Vegas trips, the afternoon is where I slip in things like ziplining, buying M&Ms, or finding a cheap tournament to flip coins in.  This time I opted to head to my room, unload my memory card to my laptop and maybe catch a couple zzz's before a planned mega-dinner. Except that the sun was setting and my room faced west.

So the tripod and camera got set up by the window and all the lights went out to cut reflections. Now my room looked like I was either a spy or voyeur. Who's to say I'm not both though?  Regardless, the goal was to get some sunset shots. This turned into getting night shots as the sun dropped and I wasn't thrilled with what I was getting of the horizon.  Luckily, even the buildings a short walk off The Strip light up as night approaches, and I was able to get some pics I rather liked of the Vdara, the Bellagio tram terminal, and the various loops of road that is Harmon.

Among them was this one.



There are plenty more I'll soon get around to posting.

The whole process of shooting out the back of the Aria took a long time. Enough that plans like "taking a nap" were no longer feasible. I set up the photo dump to the laptop and went about getting ready for a dinner whose sheer size was grossly unplanned for.

There was texting and such to arrange rides, and I eventually met F-Train, Drizz, JoeSpeaker, and Doc Chako in front of the hotel. Raku is a tiny place in a strip mall about 10 minutes away from The Strip. Our group of ten necessitated a fixed price menu, but beyond that, details were unclear. Let's see if I can recall the whole group.  Myself, F-Train, Doc, Drizz, Speaker, Garth,  Saunter, Grubby, Absinthetics, and Katkin.

The easiest way to convey the meal is by cribbing from Speaker's post about it.

We started with a few pitchers of Sapporo. Then the food started to come. If I don't comment, then take the description as "tasty and fairly self-descriptive".

1.- Tofu with Bonito, scallions, wasabi and green tea salt - tofu was served like a giant ball of soft cheese. the green tea salt was on the side, as was a jar of soy sauce.

2.- Bluefin Sashimi Salad with spinach and crispy onions

3.- Red Snapper sashimi and seared- Delicious two-ways snapper. They then asked about deep-frying the leftovers (ie.- the removed skeleton, head, and skin of the snapper). We said yes.

4.- Seafood soup - Kind of. Eel, chicken, (shrimp?), matsutake mushroom, and some kind of nut for people who weren't me, broth in a teapot. Absolutely AMAZING broth.

5.- Shellfish and broth - An understatement. Clams, mussels, whole shrimp, scallops... piled on top of one another. I dislike most of those things and ate them all.

6.- Fried chicken thighs on spinach with balsamic vinaigrette - The first "meh" dish of the night. Generally low on flavour in the chicken, but the bed of spinach underneath was great, having basically marinated in the balsamic.

7.- Asparagus deep-fried with panko bread crumbs

Around here is when I got a text reminding me of my plans to ride the New York New York roller coaster later that night. Hrmm..

8.- Roasted mackerel

9.- Red Snapper bones and skin redux - The snapper from earlier returns as crispy goodness!

10.-  Tofu in beef broth with Salmon roe - I fail to see the point of tofu as anything other than a base for other flavours. Man, what amazing other flavours. Oh, and the tofu is made in-house.

11.- Bacon-wrapped mushrooms, two ways - They're bacon-wrapped mushrooms, two-ways. Of course they were delicious.

I think it was at this point (although it might have been a couple courses earlier) that we were brought hot wet towels and assumed the meal was over. We all agreed that we had certainly received our money's worth and were well-sated. Full, yet not explosively so.  Then this happened:

12.- Kobe beef with wasabi - Oh, there IS more! And it's delicious meat! [nom] REALLY delicious meat!

13.- Pork cheek - Chew the inside of you cheek. Fell how tender it is? Now imagine it tasting like pig.

At this point I assumed our waitress was fattening us up in order to kill us and feed the next party.

14.- Ground chicken on a stick - Again, the chicken was low on flavour. I took a bite and deemed it not worth exploding over.

15.- Salmon rice with salmon roe - Because we weren't moaning in stuffed agony, a giant bowl of carbs is just what the doctor ordered. I had two delicious bites.

16.- Asian pear and strawberry sorbets - This was truly the last dish. And one that was desperately needed. the excellent sorbets cleansed the palate and fit in the tiny spaces left in my stomach.

On top of all this, the ten of us probably went through seven pitchers of Sapporo. Cost per person? $115 all-in. That's the food, beer, taxes, and tip. Best damned deal in Vegas.

So big thanks to F-Train for putting this one together. Fantastic call.

We rode back to Aria to observe mixed games.  Well, I waddled around the tables a bit to check on roller coaster status.  Yup, even stuffed to the gills and barely able to walk, I was going to ride a 203ft, 67 mph coaster. After a bit more (I assume) winning at the tables, Alan and Caity rose to join Dawn, OhCaptain and myself for our trip into oblivion.

By this point, I was actually feeling better. The food had had about an hour to digest, so I wasn't a bloated mass of groaning anymore. We made our way to the coaster, briefly feared it was shut down (due to some drunk walking past saying "it's shut down!"), and paid our $14. I recall it being $25 on my first trip to Vegas, so now it seemed reasonable. I reminded Dawn about the time we rode the Cyclone at Coney Island and she thought she was going to die, and I did nothing to alleviate those fears.

"How much did that cost?"

"$8. I remember because that's how much your life and dignity were worth."

"Grrr..."

Good times.

Alan pulled out his phone to tweet something, and was promptly attacked by the ride nazi because phones are loose and have to be stored. Pleas about his jacket having a zippered pocket weren't enough. I was tempted to tweet about it on my phone that was in my totally not-zippered jeans pocket. Instead, I pulled out my equally loose wallet to hand him a quarter for the locker. The irony was completely lost on the attendant.

With that, the coaster took off, we had fun, I didn't puke on anyone (and in fact felt just fine TYVM), and we wandered back through the carney games that don't give you money. Where I believe it was Alan (or was it OhCaptain?) and I who lost $5 each to claw games because Dawn dared us to play.

Walk back to Aria, drinks, jokes, chats, more battle stories about the dinner with the other survivors, and finally I wandered up to bed.  Yah... 2 days, 4 posts, 2 more days to go. So far? Amazing WPBT. Next up? The tournament and games about gladiators.

The alarm in the Aria is a curious beast. From bedside you can program how you want the room to wake you up. I opted for lights on, blackout curtains (but not sheers) to open, and the TV to turn  to CNN (although I found myself turning to FOX news for the pure entertainment value). I also set my phone to make odd noises at the same time to force me to cross the room and shut it off.  After all, I wanted breakfast before heading to the Neon Boneyard.

Everything worked as planned, I fired out a tweet along the lines of "anyone want brunch in an hour?" and promptly crawled back to bed for half an hour. At which point I got the first reply, followed by more. Excellent. 4 of us (Maigrey, BrainMC, Alan, and myself) would be heading to Wicked Spoon at the Cosmopolitan - a buffet I'd been looking forward to since I'd heard about it earlier in the year.

So I rushed around, got presentable and went out the door in search of the buffet. For those who didn't make it out there at some point (and shame on you), Wicked Spoon is on the 2nd floor of the Cosmo, towards the taxi/valet area, past the death rays. Seriously. Death Rays. Cool steampunky Flash Gordon-era death rays mounted on podiums in the hallway.

I found 2/3 of my dining partners in line with Maigrey texting that she was on her way.  I paid for myself and Maigrey and waited for the table to be ready.

Eventually we were all around the eatin' slab and ready to grab some grub.  Wicked Spoon is unique in its presentation of buffet.  Most of the items aren't presented in troughs of goop, but put out in individual servings. A small bowl of salad, a mini-pan of eggs benedict, fruit cups, dessert shots, cup o' sweet and sour pork, etc.. And the carving station is plenty impressive too. Slab bacon, tri-tip, sake marinated turkey in a black pepper glaze, and more.  I never even bothered with the omlette station, but have no doubt it would have also impressed.

I asked for a cappuccino and was told "it costs extra".  Okay, how much? "I'm not sure... around $5?" That's a bit steep, but I wants me my foamy milk on espresso dammit! It was a perfectly serviceable capp that didn't offend. Which is saying lots for a buffet. We never saw a bill though, so I tossed an extra $5 on the tip to cover the cost. Looking back, I probably got hustled for an extra $5 on the tip.

Three or four plates later we were plenty stuffed and Brian and I had a boneyard to visit. Tweets and texts back and forth with PokerVixen and OhCaptain had them wrapping up Vixen's Canadian treachery by becoming a US citizen (totally not part of our continuing plan to invade the states slowly via immigration), and she wanted to get home and change before wandering around a dumping ground for Vegas signage. So, Brian having a car, and standign rigth next to me, I opted to ride with him. OhCaptain would meet us shortly.

But first I needed to swing by my room and grab my camera. Plus, Brian, who was staying at the IP, wanted to see the fancy Aria rooms. He was duly impressed by the geegaws and whosamawutzits in the room and we went in search of the cap'n.

Here was the problem after we found him. Brian's car was at the IP, we were at Aria, and the tour started in 30 minutes.

To the cabs!

A quick ride to the IP and we were doing not terribly on time. Then came the search for the dog tracks.

See, Brian might have been a touch tired when he parked his car the previous night, but he made a point of remembering that there were dog tracks leading him to his parking spot. The problem was, he couldn't remember where the tracks started. So we spent 5 or 10 minutes wandering around the back of the IP looking for dog tracks before finally asking the guys at the oxygen bar/water massage area. Tracks found (they lead to a sqaure of dog bathroom grass because the IP is pet-friendly), we then found the car and were on our way with about 5 minutes to tour start.  That's when we hit highway traffic. Three cops, cars pulled over, multiple arrests.

Luckily, OhCaptain called the boneyard and told them we had no sense of time due to me being on Canadian time or something, and they completely understood his thick Minnesota accent enough to say "whatever, we're starting without you."

We found our way thanks to Google maps and Cap's having been there before.  The tour had indeed started, but was at the "so this is the place we stand to start he tour" phase. Plus the woman in the wheelchair still hadn't made it, so we weren't last. Yes, we were able to beat a wheelchair-bound guest, I'm so proud. Not beat as in battery, but beat as in get there before them.  We clear? No lawsuits? Good.



After the spiel about how they're totally building an indoor museum, we started the tour in the middle with this guy:



Here he is in 3D.  Cross your eyes funny 3D. It's better if you click on him and visit the larger image.



They have lots of piles of letters.



And occasionally even some neon.



Neon is apparently billed per bend in the tube. That thing up there must have cost a fortune. But not as much as this car rental joint's mascot:



The high cost of neon means that a lot of the signage is actually good ol' light bulbs.



We wrapped up at gigantic skull, from the old Barbary Coast, which must have had MASSIVE signage.



For perspective, here's the Googly map of the Boneyard, complete with skull. You may need to turn off 45-degree perspective to really see it.

The Boneyard is a worthwhile way to spend an hour or so of your time. You get plenty of Vegas history stories from the guide and see some cool abandoned signs, if that's your thing. If you have a camera, it's a great place for shots.

From there it was back to The Strip, via Las Vegas Blvd this time, to see the "sights". Man, what a depressing drive that is.  But in many ways, it's a more accurate representation of Vegas, without the veneers and façades that The Strip puts up.

This is, once again, long. So I'll split up day 2 here. Up next - how to combine and epic feast with a roller coaster.

When we last saw our intrepid Canadian, he was jumping a cab at the Cosmopolitan all by his lonesome to get to the Excalibur. I seem to recall this cabbie actually taking a route that made sense. This opposed to the one who took the highway to the Aria (I wasn't paying attention) earlier in the day.

So I find myself at the Excal and I am, as usual, struck by the cheap cheesiness of the place. But I knew there was a murder (I assume that's the proper group designation) of blogger-types hanging out by the bar, so I just beelined towards Lynyrd Skynyrd's reportedly terrible BBQ joint and swerved at the last second towards the sea of recognizable faces congregated around cheap beers.

I started by giving Bam-Bam a hearty slap on the back, followed by hugs and greetings to the man from Bedrock and his lovely wife Pebbles, who moved from the frosty rolling hills of 45 minutes away from me to the flat golden fields of Saskatchewan (provincial motto: Easy to draw, hard to spell.).  About 5 seconds after this, Bammer tried to convince me to jump in a cab with them and head to The Palms for some HORSE. A game I detest 3/5ths of. Try as he might, he couldn't get me to budge from the Robin Hood-themed drinking establishment I had yet to ensconce myself in.

There was chatting, the some quick chat with newly-minted full-time author John Hartness, an all-too-brief talk with Iggy, hellos to Mattazuma, Yestbay, JoeSpeaker, Lightning, and general all-round chaos as I tried to catch up with 20 people at once.

I of course made some time to talk to Carol (no links because she's secretive that way, but you already know how to find her), who is totally my Vegas foodie insider and all-around awesome person who I don't talk to nearly enough.

Then it was chatting with OhCaptain and PokerVixen about any number of things.  In short, everyone was catching up on their year.  Our 140 character spurts of information and all-too-rare ramblings in these bloggy things just don't measure up to face time with these "Internet friends" (I can't possibly call them imaginary any more).

Somewhere during all this people started to split off and I found myself throwing money away at the Burger Girl machine (slot with a giant burger side-game) while Bam-Bam, Pebbles, and Carol looked on. it was very embarrassing... for the burger girl. Then a tweet came in that OhCaptain was learning craps... so I quickly found myself dropping a few bucks on a craps table with the Cap'n, Maigrey, Gus, Speaker, April, Garth, CJ and Lefty, and eventually Drizz (and maybe others, apologies if I forgot you). Basically, we surrounded the table, and the Excalibur gladly took our money.

However, I did introduce CJ and company to my ideal strategy of ALWAYS playing the come bet and putting full odds on. Regularly stating that "nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with this." At some point it got dubbed the Canadian strategy. As expected, nothing at all went wrong, except the time I was fully loaded and some asshole sevened out without hitting a single damned point. But that almost never (read: always) happens.

With the craps table holding on tightly to my money, I wandered. I dumped some cash in slots, strolled past table games, and eventually found myself wondering where everybody had gone. Turns out a good chunk were at The Palms, but at this point (some 24 hours since I had woken up to head to Vegas) I really didn't feel like dragging my ass over there to give more money away.  What I DID feel like was a hot dog. Probably from staring at the "beer and dog" banner hanging over the Sherwood Forest bar. I started wandering outside to find food.  I contemplated McD's across the road, but I was on the wrong side of the strip and it wasn't the "nice" one by IP, but the scary one in that odd strip mall between MGM and civilization. Nathan's in New York New York was closing up (and who wants end of night hot dogs?), and I kept walking, dropping money in slots and pulling some out along the way.

I made to the Aria without food and my stomach grumbling most unhappily.  I debated on continuing to the IP in search of food or people, and made it as far as the tram in Crystals before turning around and heading to my room. Thinking, "I'll just grab something snacky off room service." There was no such thing as "snacky" on that menu, and I really didn't want a full dinner.  If only I'd known about Secret Pizza in the Cosmo before I got back home... as it was, I passed out on the ridiculously comfortable bed as sleep beats food cravings most days. Besides, I had to be up in time for breakfast at Wicked Spoon the next morning and a visit to the Neon Boneyard.

For the first time in the winter gathering, I was travelling solo.  I'd been to WPBT events in the summer by myself, but come December I always had a small entourage of local friends who wanted to gamble it up a bit. This presented a few problems. First we were always co-ordinating flights. Some people couldn't get off work and took later flights, others got delayed a day by vacation scheduling SNAFUs, I would generally be rushing to the airport while others were whiling away the hours waiting for me.

Then we'd get to Vegas and I'd be splitting my time between two groups of friends. The ones I saw regularly, and the ones I saw yearly. My priorities were scrambled.

This year, nobody could come with me. I was a both a little disappointed, and a little relieved. Solo for WPBT is easier. Besides, I'd be returning to Sin City with my usual blokes in January.

In short, I was heading to Vegas by myself to meet up with dozens of friends. I get tired of explaining this to people every year. Maybe I'll tell them I'm going to Scranton. Nobody asks who you're going to Scranton with.

I wisely gave myself some extra time to get to the airport, and the accident on the expressway justified the reduced sleep schedule, for I arrived with still plenty of time to spare.

Not that it mattered too much, as the plane was seemingly delayed about an hour. I'm not sure why, as I was asleep on it as soon as the doors closed, so I didn't notice us sitting on the tarmac the whole time. In fact, I didn't notice we were delayed until I thought, "hrm, we should be there by now."  This put a bit of a kink in my plan to play the Aria 1pm as a Winter Classic warmup.

I strolled through McCarran Terminal 1, a bit concerned about the impending taxi lineup, and tweeted such (yay US roaming plan!). But I won the check-in lottery (2nd bag out) and the taxi stand was a well-oiled operation, so I was checked-in at the Aria by the time I got the "Hey, we just landed and have a rental, want a ride?" tweets.  Bloggers rock.

I was riding the high of being back in Vegas, so decided that yes, I could use some help with my ONE bag, and tipped the bellman as I strolled to the front desk.

The past couple of years I've slipped $20 to the check-in clerk at the Bellagio and am running about 75%. Yes, 2/3 of 2.  The first year was a slam dunk with the penthouse floor room with a lake view (you all know the picture that resulted). The second year was a bit of confusion. Spa tower, strip/lake view, 8th floor. But she didn't touch the $20 and made no suggestion that an upgrade had been given. So I kept the cash.

This year I opted to try a different route. I'd ask for the basic upgrade first (strip view, preferably higher up) and tip if I got it.  No dice.  "I'm sorry, we don't have any strip rooms available, but we do have a very nice room clean and ready for you with a mountain view." Fine... no tip for you.

Ah yes, Aria. Fancy new hotel in the centre of The Strip. I was intrigued by it last year, and April  had swung a pretty solid deal for us degenerates this year.

Sixteen floors up I walked into this:

 

Well, I thought, this ain't too shabby. Purple, but nice. I think I made the right call. The rooms were nice, the bed was amazingly comfortable, and the elevators were fast. Being plunked down two doors from the elevator bank made for a particularly easy walk, with surprisingly little hallway annoyance.



That clock there? It controls the whole room. It's the god-clock. Blinds, lights, TV, you name it, the clock controls it. I think I could have ordered room service from it.  The technology in Aria is well-used. Although a couple light switches wouldn't hurt.

I set up my tripod and started shooting the room.  Why? Because I had an assignment on interior design shots due the Monday I got back and had bupkis. Above are a couple of the shots.  Yes, I started my Vegas trip with homework, but that's only because I knew that once I left the room, I wasn't getting any more work done for days. I immediately realized that my setup looked like I was about to shoot amateur porn in a Vegas hotel room. How cliché.

Far too long later, I had my shots taken, adjusted, and sitting on my laptop.  But before I left, I snapped a quick iPhone pic of my view.  Actually, before I left I searched the room for the safe. I took a tweet to @AriaLV to finally locate it. Twitter is damned useful.

 

Walking outside I realized that the mountain view might be the better option with Aria. Corner suites probably have a good view, but dead-front strip? You get Polo Towers... not much to look at.

I decided to check out the surroundings. I hadn't really explored CityCenter on my last trip because it wasn't entirely finished yet. I also figured it would be good to know where the hell Jaleo was as I was meeting April, Dawn, Maigrey, Peaker (Dan, Dan, the marathon man), Grange, Absinthetics, and the artist formerly known as TheWife (who would be getting in too late, but made it for the bill) there for dinner in an hour or so. I meandered through and around and outside Crystals before finding my way to The Cosmopolitan, noting the much simpler route I could have taken (and later used all the time).  Jaleo wasn't too hard to find, except for them not really putting the name in an easy-to-see location. With time to kill, I wandered The Cosmo a bit more and decided I rather liked the place. There's something unique in its overall design and layout... it feels new with a touch of rat-packy retro-Vegas. The chandeliers, the decor, the death rays on the way to the buffet...

Anyway, I wandered back to the restaurant to await the group. I plunked myself on a chair and played Angry Birds or something, occasionally looking up. I'd met most of the above people before, but had no clue what Absinthetics or Grange looked like, so I figured one of them would show up first. A few lost souls wandered around and left, and I tweeted my curiosity if one of them were who I was looking for. Then someone who stuck out just a bit started wandering, and checking his phone regularly. I knew I had a blogger in sight.  I casually strolled behind him and glanced at his Twitter stream... why, I knew all those people...

"That looks like a familiar list of followers."

"Hi, I'm [Absinthetics]."

"Astin/[real name]"

And so the group started to form. Dawn tweeted that she was on her way and blaming F-Train for her lateness. April and co were coming straight from the airport and a wee bit delayed due to Budget having a no horns, and no honouring your quote policy or something. Oh, and Dan had made it town on time too! Which we were all very happy about because it sucks to have your flights cancelled.  Read about it on his blog.

I presented myself to the ladies at the restaurant to let them know my party was a bunch of slackers who don't believe in watches or "time" so they were late. No worries I was told, and no worries were had. The group showed up about half an hour late and we were promptly seated.

Drink menus on iPads were delivered, wine was had, and much delicious food was ordered. Chevre on endive, iberico ham, serrano ham, veal cheeks and morels, chicken wings, bacon-wrapped deliciousness, amazing lobster paella, lamb ribs, flans, and so much more. Tapas is amazing for a group like us - food gets passed around by design, more of any dish can be ordered on a whim, and good times are had.

But my personal food highlight was a simple thing. On the drink pad, "Jose's Gin & Tonic" is listed as "the best gin and tonic you've ever had!"  So I had to inquire what I was getting for $17. I mean, I make a solid G&T, and there are really only two ingredients.  I was assured by our very competent waiter that it would surpass all expectations or he'd take it back. I suggested I simply drink it and not pay if it wasn't "the best" but only the second best. He declined this generous offer and I ordered the drink anyway.

Damn, they were right.

"This ice ball is quick-frozen over dry ice with pure water for absolute clarity."

"Umm.. okay. It's ice."

"The gin is from Scotland with hints of cucumb.."

"So it's Hendrick's?"

"Uh... yes, it's Hendrick's."

"And finally our tonic, it's Fever Tree tonic from the UK. You can find this at Whole Foods."

"Never heard of it."

It's all in the tonic boys and girls. DAMN. Not as sweet as the usual stuff, this made for one FINE G&T. Not mentioned were the slice of lime, the zest of lemon, the two juniper berries, or the bay leaf floating in my drink as well.



$17 worth? I dunno. But it's Vegas, so expect higher prices.  Which reminds me I need to go to Whole Foods after work to find that tonic. (please be in Canada, please be in Canada).

Anyhoo, dinner was fantastic, and from there we went to storm the castle.  Well, *I* went to Excalibur, everyone else went to check in or tag along with those who were checking in.

Yah, this is a long one, and it's still day 1, and I haven't reached the Excal yet. Okay, I'll break it up here.

Made it home without incident, and plenty of memories to get down in this space.  Those will come over the next few days.  But first, I want to get some of my pics ready for posting.

The quick summary though? Ate like a Roman, gambled like a rube, when I slept it was the sleep of the dead, had nothing but fun times, and most importantly, had great people to spend them with. A++++ will do business with again.

Just over 23 hours until I take off for sin city. Add about 5 hours to that for arrival. I'm getting a wee bit excited.

Not a whole whack to add to yesterday's post.  Plans remain the same, although dining companions at Jaleo have changed a bit, and a couple of you have shown interest in Wicked Spoon brunch buffet (Friday? Saturday pre-tourney? Sunday recovery?)

But I did something last night that I don't think I've ever done before. Pre-packed. Yup, all packed up except for the stuff I still need to use.  At this rate I'll be sitting on my suitcase waiting for my ride hours before it's scheduled to show up.  Man, I wish I had a TARDIS.

See a bunch of you this weekend!

I've been travelling all my life. With dad working for the airlines, and mom teaching geography, it meant a lot of plane rides. This also meant a lot of packing, a lot of early mornings, and a lot of time spent waiting around the gates to see if we would get on the flight with employee passes, or try again later.

Of course, over the last decade or so, most of my travel has been for myself. Among those trips have been 8 to Las Vegas. Thursday will be #9.

And every single one is tinged with excitement. Also, rushing the night before to get my shit together. US cash, passport, clothes, bounties, toothpaste, etc.. It hasn't always gone smoothly.  Two years back I left my whole bankroll, bounties, passport, and casino cards sitting in my nightstand as I rushed out the door to make my flight. Luckily, I realized it as I was standing on the subway platform across the street from my place and was able to retrieve cash and passport, but the rest stayed behind. Which was fine since I didn't need the bounties anyway that year.

So I expect a full sleep tonight, and maybe half of one tomorrow as I pack, prepare, and procrastinate before waking up at 5:30am to make my 9:30 flight.

I'll make up the rest on the way over, and then deprive myself of sleep for the next 4 days.

I fully expect the usual tune to run through my head as the bright light city draws into view.

Staying at the Aria, hoping to swing a photo-worthy view. Then I'm thinking I need a practice run before Saturday, so I'll probably drop my bags off and then head downstairs for the Aria 1pm tourney.  Same buy-in and structure as the WPBT, and I'm crazy rusty.  I figure it's $125 flushed in the name of warming up the poker instincts. Dinner at Jaleo with good company (still 2 seats up for grabs at 6pm if anyone wants in), and then a castle will be stormed.

Friday has some dead neon in it, more dinner, and then some sort of reckless gambling I'm sure.

Saturday I plan to win a tournament, with Team Bedrock (yours truly, Summers, and BrainMC. Hey, you dyslexically steal our name, we'll straight up abscond with yours) finishing 1-2-3, and then play it by ear from there, although there are rumblings involving arcade games that I suck at...

Sunday - ummm.. wake up? Eat? Find people cheering their sportsball game in a large room? Cheer for insane friends who have decided to run down a street in the middle of a desert? And then go home.

I think the only thing on my "want to do" list that isn't covered in here somewhere is grabbing some breakfast buffet at Wicked Spoon at the Cosmo.  I mean, what's Vegas without at least one breakfast buffet to fuel your whole day? Who's in?

I had just finished up a solid dinner with my posse, and had some time to kill before we dropped off two of our group at the airport for the Saturday red-eye. There was a call for more gambling, which I was not against, but I informed them that first I wanted to check in on the tournament, now heading into hour 9.

Last year's game finished around 11. The year previous, with a larger field, I bubbled in 10th around the same time. At 9pm, I figured the game was still far from over.

We walked in as a break was winding down and the remaining six were milling about the table waiting to start up again. I was happy to see so many familiar faces still in the game. And even though we were long eliminated thanks to my inability to win a damn hand, seeing teammate MiamiDon with a big stack in front of him was great.

Now, having gone deep the previous two years, I know how much of a grind it can be. I don't know if there was a dinner break this year, but there wasn't the previous. I was hungry, tired, and frankly a little sick of playing poker for so long for both my runs. My friends were out drinking and rolling dice and eating and generally having more fun than me, and the longer the game went, the more I wanted to be out there with them. Hell, both years I missed the chance to see one of my buddies off to the airport.

But I would have never chopped for the trophy.

Al made the offer to JoeSpeaker and myself the previous year when we were three-handed. "Chop, but I get the trophy!" No way. Joe and I looked at each other incredulously. How could Al make that offer? We'd happily chop the cash 3-ways, or even give Al a premium since he was in the lead at the time, but we were playing for the trophy. One a year gets handed out, and the list of champions is still short. Al refused to chop if he didn't get the Golden Hammer handed to him. So I ended it with, "That's the sort of thing someone who doesn't think they can win it on their own would say."

Now, I don't fault Don for offering the chop, or taking it. Hell, if I was in a dominant lead, I'd put it out there, expecting nobody to take it. Negotiating requires you to ask for more than you think you'll get, because what will you lose? Plus, Don had a very healthy stack of orange chips in front of him, and it could be argued that he was the most feared player at the table. But for FIVE other people to say "sure, no problem" without even an ATTEMPT at negotiation? Nobody even tried to talk him down on the cash - why not say, "You get 2nd place money minus whatever puts the rest of us at 3rd place cash?"

Cash aside, only ONE person (and I don't even know who he is) said, "I kinda want the trophy." Which he quickly followed with, "But I'm good with the chop." Don even put it out there that he was happy to play on if ANYBODY didn't like the chop. Nobody spoke up. I get the shortstacks taking the deal, their chances of getting past 5 other players slim, but that leaves 3 other players who had a legitimate shot at the championship who shrugged and went with it.

Poker is a grind, and after 9 hours, I get the desire to stand up and leave with over a grand in your pocket. Bills to pay, losses to cover, people have their reasons for wanting or needing the money. But this wasn't the noon $150 tournament, this was the WPBT Winter Classic, which I THOUGHT was a championship coveted by our little group. I was PROUD to have won the trophy outright, and would have been ashamed if I'd taken the money instead of trying to take the championship. Hell, if even ONE person had spoken up and said "No, I didn't just put most of my Saturday into this to not take a shot at the Hammer," and been talked into the chop by the rest, then someone could have held their head up. Instead, a few hundred extra bucks locked in was enough to toss pride aside.

Don made a big play without a single card and won. He won the trophy and the tournament with one last big bet. Do I think that's a deserving way to win a championship? No. Do I feel it tarnishes the win? Yes. Do I fault him for taking it? No. I probably would have done the same in Don's position, because I would have never expected FIVE of our crew to agree to such a ridiculous offer. Everyone who said yes though? You come off as a sellout.

I was there for five days, but I think it can be recapped in one post. Forgive the lack of links, I may add them when I get home.

Let's get the crap out of the way first - down. Down a bunch. Atlantic City levels of down. I don't think I won a damned thing. Craps? Hundos on the table, walking away empty-handed. Pai Gow? Down a couple, but most games were the expected break-even with +EV in drinks. Let it Ride? If not a for a 3-card set of jacks, I'd be swearing off the game. Poker? AA once in the tournament (where I went out in 86th) was the only notable hand in all the poker I played. Although I was up $23 in the MGM mixed game. Slots? Well, I'd better be getting some good offers from the broke-ass casino companies this year after the number of max-bet button presses on my cards without a cash-out.

So, totally negative on the gambling front.

Big deal.

I was still under my loss limit.

And it was more than made up for by the real reason I went - to see you people.

By "you people", I mean you. And you. But not you, because you didn't go.

As has been the case for every winter gathering I've attended (4 and counting), I had a small entourage of local friends in my wake. The regulars - M, N, and E were joined by a couple Vegas virgins - M2 and S. In years past, I've had small regret for having a posse with me, as they haven't necessarily integrated with the larger group well, which has left me torn between groups.

This year, I went where I wanted, and it worked out better. Local friends ditch the $10 table for the $5? Tough, I've got Otis on my right, and Chilly and Bayne on my left. I'm not going anywhere. Drizz, Maigrey, and Gus show up to make it even better.

Hey guys, I'm teaching you Pai Gow. I can't believe that worked considering one of them doesn't drink and another doesn't drink much. Talk about -EV.

You want to stay in the room instead of gamble? Have fun, I have a tournament to rail and a drunken Gus is too much fun to NOT join his craps table.

Got to meet BrainMC (world's worst Pai Gow player), xkm1245 (who I think was stalking me, dude seemed to be everywhere), NumbBono, PokerVixen, 23Skidoo, Josie (who I like because she called me skinny), and more. Probably played with even more people I didn't know without realizing it. Sorry to Wolfshead for not introducing myself at the mixed game - I was full of Robuchon and gambling angst and didn't think to make a formal introduction.

Then of course, there's my fellow Canucks - Katitude and Joanne1111. Only seeing Joanada in Vegas makes sense as Calgary ain't exactly next door. But Kat? We really need to start meeting up somewhere between the 20 minutes between our respective homes - I think 10 minutes is much more reasonable :). Then there's kinda-Canadian BuddyDank who was the first blogger I saw this year, and who I have just now decided I will blame for my early ousting from the tournament, as I spent most of my time chatting with him. Obviously, he drained all my good luck to make it to the 6-way chop.

Speaking of Canadians - OhCaptain's (from South Ontitoba, aka Minnesota) Bourbonators never really came together, but he DID get his group shot before the tournament and a bottle of Bowmore to bring to the next Eh-Vegas! Always good to see the cap'n.

Then there's VinNay and Dawn and Mary, who I've seen more than any other bloggers (and most of my local friends) this year. Amazingly, we still had some stuff to talk about, be it of substance or not. Although Mary and I seemed to be on different schedules and barely crossed paths.

I FINALLY played craps with Bayne after about 6 coincident visits to Vegas. That one's ticked off the list, and replace with "do it again, and win this time."

CK made it out to Robuchon this year! No crappy deals that never got done to keep her away from the best meal in Vegas. And for those who DIDN'T see her at the mixed game after? She cleans up great - who knew she even had a dress and heels? You'd barely know she was a deadly poker machine.

Al, Pauly, Iggy, CJ, Drizz, Falstaff, April, April, Garth, Gnome, MiamiDon, JoeSpeaker and many, many more - it was great to see you, however briefly.

I even managed to make it to Legasse's this year. Later than planned, but there was something great about walking into that suite, packed with people I knew, and some I hadn't even realized were there. Free swag from Full Tilt was icing on the cake. I'll have to start using my pool to justify the sandals...

And the food! I might have lost at the various gambling tables, but the dinner tables were nothing but win.

Sage = fantastic food, and an amazing value for a nice dinner. 3 course tasting menu, wine or beer pairing, and appetizer upgrade all for $140? In Vegas? Worth it. Oh, and our waiter was amazing - he rolled with our jokes (we were in town for a quilting bee) and was great for a laugh or six himself.

Delmonico's = still making the steaks right. Two years in a row now we've been put at the front of the restaurant - which is dark and sucks. Service has dropped off since our first visit 4 years back as well - it's by no means bad, but it used to be above and beyond. But they still know how to cook a solid piece of meat. The $25 corkage fee for our excellent self-brought wine was also very reasonable.

Robuchon - what can I say that I didn't last year? Awesome. With the new experience shine off from last year for half of us, I worried if I'd oversold it to myself. Nope. Still 16 courses of perfect food and impeccable service. Worth every penny. Hell, I'd lost more at craps the first night. Our sommelier being Canadian was a pretty nice touch too. Seriously, if you can afford it, do it at least once.

Julian Serrano - Last minute "well, we're all out of the tournament" dinner. Very nice tapas. Reasonable prices. I've certainly had better tapas in Toronto, but the dishes here ranged from good to "bring us another of those". The waiter was also incredibly friendly, and seemed genuinely happy to have served us. The fact he found a stamp-collector in our group, and he was an active one himself, certainly helped.

Legasse's - You'd be hard-pressed to find better food at a sports bar anywhere. Considering it was the only meal I ate between then and lunch the next day, it was welcome.

The last time I was down this much, N and I left Atlantic City with grumbles and vows to never return. Looking back, I can't believe how much fun I had while flushing cash down the felt toilets in Vegas. A huge thank you to everyone who was there, and a double thanks to Al, April (and her local cohorts), and CJ for taking care of all those logistical things that made it extra special.

Next year? Need to cram in a photowalk, and also get that indoor skydiving thing done. There's also the Jose Andres restaurants opening up this week at the Cosmopolitan. I task the Vegas locals to check those out for me and report back ASAP.

This isn't about politics... just the next paragraph.

It's a word that in my fine city has become a punchline. Our current mayor's cries to "stop the gravy train" have infused connotations onto a word that is usually associated with deliciousness.

But dammit, I loves me my gravy! And you know what? Next week will be full of it!

Because next week is Vegas! A week tomorrow is when I sit my ass down to defend my Golden Hammer Trophy from over 100 challengers. You know what else? The pot just keeps getting more tasty with delicious gravy!

Poker Stars has increased their team last-longer prize from last year! Now Full Tilt has stepped up to grow our prize pool AND cover food at Sunday's football-watching extravaganza. Man, I wish that $100 bubble prize was there two years ago when I was that guy. On top of all that, both Tilt and Stars are putting bounties on people in the tournament! $100 or $50 depending on the sponsor, and hell, that could be $150 depending on overlap of bounties! AND a Hammer Challenge from Stars! $50 for winning post flop with the hammer? They should just throw money at the tables!

Between my inevitable repeating as champ, the 1-2-3 finish of Team "Astin is Awesome" (that's our name, right guys?), and me knocking out EVERYONE, with THE HAMMER, this will be a very profitable tournament for yours truly.

Let's be honest, I'm going home with a copy of Gigli and a hangover.

Plus, poker lessons before the tournament! I mean, let's face it... if I can win this thing everyone else must REALLY suck, and could only benefit from this opportunity.

Thanks to Sir AlCantHang and El Luckbox for putting this delicious topping together for us sorry degenerates.

I am figuratively bursting at the seams with anticipation for this trip. I always look forward to Vegas, but this year, it's also a real vacation from life for a few days. Everything else?

Gravy.

I'll probably bring a few random trinkets with me to the Winter Gathering. Hammer keychains and the like.

But Oh Captain reminded me of what I had planned this year's bounty to be.

This of course:


Now I just have to print it, frame it, and pack it. I'm thinking of throwing in a full-sized TIFF of the image to, so whoever knocks me out can use it for their own personal, non-commercial purposes. Maybe.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'll have to reward it to the best Pai Gow player or something, since I'm winning the whole damned tournament again.