Updates!
Well folks, the holidays are almost over now (unless you're celebrating Festivus, in which a year of hell and torture is about to start all over again), and I've made a pre-New Years resolution to start writing some more. The reason for this is mostly because I've gotten at least 2 nasty e-mails and several threatening IM's from Pipes in regards to the lack of updates. Okay, let's Tango. . .

Christmas was wonderful as always. It's good to be back home with friends and family, and once again, I made out like a bandit, scoring a PalmOne Zire 72 PDA and a Bose Sounddock for my iPod. I got Paul and autographed Philadelphia Eagles mini-helmet signed by Terrell Owens and Donavan McNabb, (all if which lost a bit of it's luster when TO went down last week), and Paul and I got our mother a Burberry Scarf, some DVD's and a nice music box.

Jewish Christmas was a blast as always. Hopefully, we'll have some pics up soon enough. This year's Festival of Lights and Gentiles ended with a three hour Blind Man's Bluff session in my basement. Do I smell tradition, or is that just my socks?

So many of you have wondered why I've given up my swinging bachelor lifestyle equipped with a plush apartment in the city, to basically come back home and live with. . . well, my Mom. See, I like to look at it as more of a vacation from myself, in which it doesn't cost me money. I needed a week away from the city to kind of settle down a bit, and relax. So what did I do to relax? That's right, I plowed through 3 seasons of Smallville on DVD. Now, PK has been on this show since it dropped about 4 years ago, and he constantly nagged me to watch a few episodes. So I did on Thursday, and 2 and half seasons later, here I am. I've basically spent every waking moment this break, debating in my head if Clark will ever have the courage to open up to Lana, or if Lex Luther will ever find out about Clark's secret. Or when Jonathan Kent is going to kick the bucket, because you know that has to come sooner or later. Or at least realize that he was Bo Duke on the Dukes of Hazzard! But I have been pleasantly surprised with the show. God, watching Clark stumble around Lana is like watching a video of myself getting kicked in the balls. It's humorous. . . after a while. But seriously, what the f-ck is going to happen in this show? Not to sound lame, but it's like you're pulling for Clark and Lana to work through it, but you know it just won't happen. See, when Paul watched it, he had weeks, and even months to digest what was happening. The slow evolution of Lex Luther from good friend/prodigal son to potential evil mastermind was a slow and grueling changes, one that I saw develop in about 24 hours. I almost feel like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. . . when they upload all those martial arts skills into him. What took years for everyone else, literally took me a weekend and a nice leather couch to lie on.

Now, New Years is right around the corner, and I've officially decided that I'm not spending a f-cking dime on it. Brad and I talked about throwing a party, but since he was so good on getting back to me about his availability, I decided not to bother. Paul and I decided we're going to Todd's apartment to chill, rather than wasting a f-cking dime on this pathetic quasi-holiday. So, the three of us will be drinking bubbly, while everyone else has paid at least $100 to go to some bar they wouldn't set foot in for free on most nights. And yes, when the ball drops, we might even have a man-hug in the living room.

Well, that's about it for now. Hopefully I keep my promise to Pipes and stay at this more often… as well as my promise to not reveal his huge man-crush on John Harnett.

Happy Holidays!!!: Happy Holidays everyone!!! From my family to yours, have a happy, healthy and safe Holiday. This year, Paul and I once again procrastinated about making another Flash card. Hopefully, one day can do it again. Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanakaraj, Merry Festivus and a ass-slappin' good New Year!

Dong Soup:

I posted this last week on the fantasy football board:

dong soup
by: Team GarlandGangbang (jkanakaraj) Oct 17 1:35am
"Ethan, if the Yankees lose this series, I'll eat some dong soup myself. If they do sweep the Red Sox, which I think there is a 60% chance of, this might be one of the greatest sports moments of my life. Going to the WS, and getting there on Boston soil is just the greatest feeling. There is nothing better. Also, a benefit of this would be the fact that I get $100 back for my game 6 and 7 tickets, plus we have WS games to go to..."

Anyone have a good recipe for dong soup, preferably one that's light on the dong, and heavy on the soup?

Updates:
Wow, a lot’s actually happened the past several weeks. Starting off with the All-In in Autumn, in which Ilya finished in second to last place, and Paul Kanakaraj took down $700 for 2nd place. A good event, which was held at Clarks Bar in Yonkers, it played host to an all star gala of characters, including Jim Carr, Mike Cooper, Ethan Schapira, Jay Camhi, etc… I finished higher than Ethan Schapira, which is all that matters.

Next up on the agenda was Homecoming weekend at Old Alma Mater, Syracuse University. The roster up was myself, Paul, Goldie and Nick. When we got up there, we met up with G-squared, Normy, Josh and Seth… Here are a couple of the highlights from the quote board for our fantasy football league:

• Nick enforces diplomatic immunity by wandering into the kitchen of the bar he used to work at and making himself a sandwich. When a current employee walked in and caught him mid act, not knowing who he was might I add you, and asked him what he was doing, Nick responded with “Bro, what the fuck does it look like I m doing. I m hungry.”
  
• We roll up to Syracuse after scooping up some silly string at a rest stop and proceeded to spend the first 20 minutes at old Alma Mater driving around spraying silly sting on sorority girls. We re turning one corner and we see an old man and his wife standing there. Half the car was torn on whether or not to get him, but as we got closer and saw his FSU sweater vest, Nick hung out the window, said, “FSU sucks” and proceeded to let this old fart and his wife have it.
  
• At the game, every time FSU scored, Norm quickly responded to various FSU fans in our section with “Where’s your roof”?
  
• Of course, one of the finer Nick-ism came at Feagans when we were outside talking to these old people from Minnesota, and we started talking about Pittsburgh some how. Nick chimed in with “I love Pittsburgh, that’s where my ancestors are from.”
  
• Nick wearing sunglasses and sitting off to the side in the Dome and afterwards outside at the bar. It was approximately midnight when he decided the glare of the sun had subsided enough to rough it without the shades. The sunglasses apparently were the perfect accent to his pink shirt. (G-squared)
  
• What's a trip without being an asshole to at least 27 strangers? During the football game, I found several FSU fans and offered them a high five. When they went to put their hand in the air, I walked by and "dissed" them, leaving them hanging. Apparently one guy was very saddened by my random act of being a dick. Nobody, and I mean nobody, comes into my house and disrespects me and my family. WE MUST PROTECT THIS HOUSE! (Paul Kanakaraj)

To be honest, I really can’t wait until next year… I was telling Paul that you really lose a sense of home when you leave college. After all, it defines who you are for 4 (in my case 5) years. You forget how comfortable it is when you’re there. How many people you know, how many friends you have, how familiar you are with everything. I really thought you lost that when you go back, and to an extent you do, but I realized you’ll never lose that feeling of security and “diplomatic immunity” while you’re there. Maybe the good memories stick out more than the bad ones, but it’s a comforting to know that there will always be some sort of home away from home…

One morning last year, I was enroute to work via the old reliable 4 train, and I saw this poem as part of their Poetry In Motion promotion the Metro North was running during 2003. It was one of those moments you have were everything goes silent, and you just focus on this one thing because it seems it's the only thing that even remotely matters at the time. I read it over and over and over again, it just stuck with me. I don't know who it reminded me of, maybe me, maybe people I knew, but if felt like I wrote it.

I finally tracked down a copy of that poem:

“Let Me Stop”
Jeremy Davis

I wish this po’m to oblige her, kindly,
but I shouldn’t sign my name to these words–
I should just keep admiring her qui’tly
’cause I can’t write like her beauty deserves:

my pen’s too slight to boldly show her face,
on a page too dim and pale to be kind
reflecting her eyes, shined ’neath arched brows’ lace,
easily recalled as paired polished rhyme–

by that light a bird takes flight from finger,
whistles o’er her river and limber streams,
palms aflutter o’er standing waves in her
that softly through their curvy banks careen–

but I’ll bid the bird hide and stop whistling
so she won’t catch it, annoyed at list’ning.

Vacation Time: Well, tomorrow morning I head to work, only to slave for an entire day, then hop on a red eye to Vegas, straight from the office. I'll be landing in Vegas at 11:30 PST, probably not sleeping for about 18 hours. I woudln't have it any other way. I also realized that I left my digi cam at my place, so I'll have to buy a crappy camera and scan them in when i get back. Stay tuned for some low res pics.

Gone But Not Forgotten: In college, it seemed like my entire existence revolved around Phish tour. Every summer, I knew I was working my ass off just to make it to a couple shows, and maybe make a nice weekend or two out of it. During the fall, it was time to break out to map and see who was in what college closest to the show, and who’s floor I could crash on. Come New Years, well, there was not an ounce of uncertainty that it would be spent at Madison Square Garden for the usual New Years romp. Four nights of riding the Metro North, trying to use old stubs for better seat, getting $2 kebabs in front of Grand Central, and of course, the music and the scene. As many of you have read, Phish ended their 21 year existence with 3 shows in the middle of Vermont last weekend. I was tempted to go. After all, when I heard they were putting a kibosh on the whole thing, I went out and got tickets for SPAC this summer, partly to see what I have missed the past four years, and partly to remember what I took part of the last 10. And it got me to remember what Phish was really all about for me: My friends. I remembered listening to Phish my freshman year and just thinking about how different it was, and while I was learning to play guitar, I started to realize how absolutely complicated is was as well. As I got older, collecting tapes became and obsession over a hobby. In fact, because I wanted my tapelist to get out to more and more people, I learned HTML to put it on a website, which in turn spring-boarded me into my current profession and obsession. By junior year, I was wearing Birkenstocks with wool socks, had hair down to my shoulders, and a collection of about 5 tie dyes, and one Morning Dew shirt that I rotated on a bi-weekly basis. If you caught a whiff of Patchouli, it meant I was coming around to corner, and if you saw me, I had a glazed, happy aura to my being. I automatically fell for every hippy girl I came across, and if you openly denounced Phish, you could expect the cold shoulder from me for months to come. Ahhh, those were the good old days. It was a time when things were so much more simple, when my biggest concern was not sleeping through my 9:40, and making sure I got to the cafeteria before 12:00 so the entire offensive line didn’t eat every ounce of food that particular day. Now, I don’t even have time to eat, because working to pay rent is 100% indicative of that. But Phish wrapping up, kinda is a symbol of the curtain closing on my adolescence as well. I read this great article today about the great, and not-so-great things about Phish, and I spent most of today reminiscing about the great, and not-so-great times I had because of this band, and the people I met as a result. So for those of you, here is my top 10 Phish moments: 10) The Kyle Factor: On Dick Egan’s last night in Syracuse, we hung out all night with this random local named Kyle. This guy had to be the most annoying man I’ve ever met in my entire life, and he wouldn’t leave us alone that night, and made us go to his house to "check out his plants". As a result, guess who I ran into at Phish lot, and was usually greated with “Hey, I know that fucker!”, at every single show I went to from that day forth? If you guessed Kyle, you’ve earned yourself a kind cookie. 9) Going to the Rochester show with friends of every walk: Jay came up from Penn St, the entire Cuse roster was there, including Ben and Melanie, as well as the whole Buffalo crowd. I even saw one of my TA's faced out on acid at the show. Just a great time... 8) The Grasso Story: Sal was given specific instructions to be at my car after the last Albany show in 1999, because I had an enormous test at 8:30 the next moring. Of course, several hours pass and there is not Sal to be found. Paul and I are forced to venture through lot, only to find a faded Sal sitting around acting like nothing was wrong. Needless to say, I failed that test...badly. 7) The Camden Debacle: On the ride down to the Camden show, we dubbed Buchalter the designated driver for the 2 hour drive home after the show. It’s not a bad drive at all, and despite his horrible driving skills, something he should have had no problem with. Well, the first problem was that he passed out (dead sober again) once we got to the car, that is, after he made us walk all over lot looking for food for him. So our options were to either: a) get towed b) let the traffic get worse and turn a 2 hour drive into a 5 hour drive, or c) take the damn wheel myself. I trooped through and got us an hour on the turnpike, then threw coffee down Buck’s mouth and passed out, expecting to be woken up once we hit DF. The thing is about an hour later, I got tapped on the should by Buck, and to my surprise, we were lost in North Harlem. Buchalter claimed there was a detour, but Jay had come that way the day before (no detour) and Paul went to Great Adventure the next day and came home the same way (you guessed it, no detour). Just another Buchalter moment at it’s best. 6) Phirst Show: Sophomore year, Brian Peters ordered tickets to the Buffalo show on 10/19/96. I got two extra’s for Jay and Scott Spivak who made their first ever trip to Syracuse. We got to the arena, and we knew our seats were on the floor somewhere, but just kept walking closer and closer to the stage, until we were sitting two rows from the stage. What an experience. After 40 shows later, I’ve never come anywhere near that close again. And I even got a nod from Trey, despite what Jay said. 5) The LemonWheel: Jay and I were the only ones who made it, and this two man tandem was a force to be reckoned with. Juice and I split the 14 hour drive to Maine, and talked in a funny accent for about 13 of the 14 hours. It was truly what Phish was about. Two hippies in a Taurus talking jive for half a day. Not to mention, I literally rolled up there with about $40 in my pocket, since I spent the summer doing door-to-door sales and didn’t make a fucking dime. 4) The Phunk: Anyone who did Fall '97 knows what I’m talking about. Without a doubt, Phish’s musical pinnacle. What Michael Jordan was to the Bulls in the 90’s, is what funk was to Phish in '97. Buchalter's first show in Hartford, the Lemonwheel, amazing New Years run, which included a gay man hitting on Jay and I for the entire third set (and we're in the Phish book to boot), and this Rochester show I went to dolo, that was turned into their first ever DVD release. 3) Only the Great Went (AKA the Caldwell Debacle): First ever festival in Maine called the Great Went. We had to extend an invite to Paul’s lacrosse teammate, Brendan, only because he had a car. That weekend was also known as the worst weekend of Brad’s life. He first got a flat tire in route to the show, then flipped out on bad mushrooms, spent the first day in the medical tent, shit his pants, lost his wallet, got a $140 speeding ticket home and was never the same man again. Not to mention a typhoon hit the first night and Jay and I slept in about 3 inches of water. In fact, I slept in a garbage bag the second night. Ohh, and the only pants I had, I used to block water from seeping through the tent in my sleep. On the other hand, Spivak said he was worried because "there was a light mist on his pillow". Yep, it was one to remember, but it was a great learning experience. It was almost like a Bar Mitzvah of sorts for us. Me, Jay, Scott, and Paul were officially men, or at least man-hippies. It was also the time of my infamous nitrous dance, in which is started dancing around in a circle, not really knowing what I was doing, and when I came too, there were about 100 people pointing and laughing at me. 2) New Years: You name it, MSG to Florida, it was amazing every time. The New Years shows with the Tribe were not to be forgotten, and the drive to Florida was possibly the best time I’ve ever had. It was also the last time I saw Phish before this summer. I guess I knew I saw all there was to see, and there wasn’t a better way to go out. 1) The Vibe Tribe: Phish is one thing that really brought Paul and I closer. It was something we always were on the same wavelength with and something where our passion was matched undoubtedly. The same went for Buchalter and Camhi, and the four of us were unofficially nicknamed “The Vibe Tribe” because of some lame bumper sticker we got at the Gathering of the Vibes. Growing up in a small town where KRS-1 and Metallica ruled the airwaves, it was a matter of time before we all found each other. Anytime there was a show, the four of us where there together, and if one was missing, it just wasn’t the same. It was just something amazing for all of use, and something that defined us all. Today, the "phour" of us are still great friends and probably will be for the rest of our lives. In essence, this is what was the most important thing I got from Phish. My friends. From a healthy relationship with my brother, to life long friends in Jay, Buck, Speev, Garland, Max, Sheppard, etc… this is truly what Phish was all about. I guess it just took 10 years for me to really figure that out. My friends are what made Phish as special as it was to me, and it’s my friends I will remember when I tell my kids about my days on Phish tour… “Can't this wait till I'm old? Can't I live while I'm young?” -Phish Damn straight... Here is the Page 'O Memories that I built. Send me your memories and I'll post them at jkanakaraj@gmail.com.

Vegas updates plus more updates: As of last week, we've confirmed the addition of four more shlongs on the Vegas Roster. We've managed to secure Ethan "The Minister of Whine" Schapira, DJ Jay Camhi, Matt "Not So Hot" Watt, and Jon "Bagels" Buchalter. This brings the shlong total to roughly 8, with the possibility of adding Greg Bishop to the mix. Solid...I mean, who would want to vacation with women anyway, when you could be playing poker with 8 uptight pricks for 4 days. Also, Shappy pointed out that I never enlightened you into what is now known as "The Borgata Incident". As you loyal readers know, we had a great time down in AC a few months ago. A month later, Ethan gets a letter from the good people at the Borgata saying: Dear Mr. Schapira, Because of damages to the room, we're going to charge you $1500. Thanks and come back soon! Love, You Good Buddies at the Borgata And I'm not even kidding. That was really all they wrote. Not only did they not tell us what was damaged, but the sent the letter a month later, as well as charged Ethan's credit card...ALL FOR NO REASON! They also sent pictures of a couch (which we believe wasn't even the one in our room), which was set on fire and burned to a crisp! After about a month in a half of unreturned phone calls, legal advise (Thanks Billy and Rich!), some crying and night after night of waking up in a cold sweet screaming, we finally got the matter resolved with a 3 page letter that was crafted by Assistant GM Scott Spivak and Ethan. So thank god that matter is resolved now. Also, for those of you who know about my job situation the past few months, it looks like I'll be staying in NYC after all and I'll be re-employed very soon...stay tuned for those updates.

Updates!:Last night was interesting to say the least. First, after about 13 straight hours of poker at Mike Coopers house, Mike offered us a ride home to the city. It was only fitting that Scott Spivak's piece of shit car breaks down in front of my house in Dobbs. After we got that taken care of I met up with Paul, Big China, Pipes and Harnett at Greg Bishop and Jeff Passan's hotel in Times Square for a little reunion, Syracuse style. At some point in the evening, Pipes confronted me about how he was not on the Wall of Shame. After I thought about it, he did have a good point, so Pipes, if you're reading this, which I know you are, this one's for you biatch!

Vegas Baby, VEGAS!!!!: It's official.  Myself, Paul, Sloppy Sal Grasso and Johnny Nachos are heading out for 4 days of sin in lovely Las Vegas.  We got a place at the Mirage, and it's going to be over Paul's birthday weekend, so everything is lined up for this to be another amazing trip.  Although, last time I shared a hotel with Sal, he nearly got us all thrown out for flapping his gums to the owner, and for hanging up on him when he called disguised as an answering service....  Sal better just stick to being the quite, shady guy in the group, much like he did in college

The Sports Guy: Well, they finally did it. Bill Simmons has finally been given his own section and website on ESPN Page 2. This has been a long day coming for all those underground Sports Guy readers. Despite the fact that he's a hardcore Boston Sports fan, and despises every team I love, he still has this great ability to project his articles to the common sports fan, no matter how off the wall they might be. Also, on a side note, I need tickets for the Phish Vermont show, so help me out!!!

Salt City Madness: Well, another NFL Draft, and another trip to Syracuse. Seems to be quite the tradition. We lost Max Diulus and Jeff Passen for this voyage, but picked up hometown hero John Harnett in his place. Click here to peep the pictures. On a side note, real quick, I'm very much in favor with the Jets picks this year. Vilma will be stud. I saw him play the last few years terrorizing the likes of RJ Anderson and Troy Nunes. I also think them getting Derrick Strait from Oklahoma is an amazing pick up and possibly the best pickup this year. He's going to be a good player in the NFL. Anyway, more to come, it's bed time now...

AC

AC: Atlantic City. Call it what you will. A poor man’s sin city, New Sodom, whatever, everyone knows the roots of this marina in the pearls of the Jersey shore were built on sin, gambling and booze. Three of my all time favorite things, hands down. The other week, I was propositioned by Ethan Schapira to join himself and Scott “The Shark” Spivak for a few days of fun and no sun in the poker room at the Borgata. I had a few days to roll over so I decided to join along for the shenanigans. We decided to add Mad Maxx to this roster, partially because he has a car, mostly because he’s trying to make a living playing poker professionally. Regardless, we had our roster formed. The finest of the finest. When I jumped in the car, I felt like those kids from MIT who took down the entire blackjack game in Vegas. 10 minutes into the trip, we found ourselves in an intense conversation debating the moral ethics behind the “seat belt” law. Why are all four of us single again? After one chicken salad sandwich, three menthol smokes, an obligatory hour long conversation about poker philosophy and an attempted nap while Max’s CD’s were blaring, we pulled into the Borgata and high tailed straight to the poker room. For Max, Ethan and Scott, they all seemed like they had just come in for their homecoming. It was like they came back to the place that shaped them as men with a new outlook on life and a whole head full of knowledge to bestow on the feeble minded. You could have blindfolded those three and not only would they have found their way there, they would have been able to do it while mildly sprinting. We got down to the poker room, and Ethan acquainted me with all his spots he knew too well. Where the snack bar was, how to get a Borgata card, which floor waitresses put the most glitter between their boobs. Eventually I got some chips, and sat down at the $3-$6 Limit Hold ‘Em table. I flopped a full house, Jacks over Aces on the first hand and slowly built up my stack. I don’t know what happened, if it was the 40 or so Corona’s I had, the oxygen pumping in the casino or just the utter awe of how bad players were down there, but I didn’t move for about 14 consecutive hours. I sat next to some dude named Ken from Oklahoma for about 13 of those hours. He was nice guy, but horrible player, which further proved the theory that the nicer the guy, the worse the poker player. Finally, around 4am, we retreated to our palace room in the Borgata. It’s amazing, they have a poker rate if your party logs 8 hours of play, where you get the $200 room for $40. Lets just say we had that covered between the 4 of us 8 hours into the trip. Now, I have often wondered, what is it about Atlantic City that keeps drawing me back? The last time I went, I lost $700 playing craps and witnessed Paul wake up butt naked next to Jay Camhi the next morning. Gambling is like the mafia, once you’re in, you can’t go out. I don’t know who I was fooling when I proclaimed I was never going to AC again after the previous debacle. It’s like I’m Matt Damon in Rounder, where I think I’ve kicked it, but really I had no chance to beat it totally. And it’s not like I’m sort of gambling addict. I just enjoy the bright light, the service, taking down a huge pot that the next time you raise a bet, everyone folds out of respect. I enjoy the kinship, of watching Ethan and Scott and Max on their A game and how they approach it. Max and I sat next to each other for about 12 hours the next day, and basically played each other hands when one was out. The one thing I didn’t enjoy was sharing a bed with Spivak the second night where he basically slept diagonally on the bed while I had to implement the one cheek on, one cheek off approach. Ohhh, almost forgot, I won $400 there mostly from placing in 6th place in the tournament I entered. That on top of the $650 I won for finishing 3rd at the Ace Point club tournament the previous week (which both victories earned me the nickname “Mr. Thursday Night”), I think I’ve justified a few more AC trips in the near future…

D-O-E-N DONE!: The Orangemen really screwed the pooch last night. They lost to Alambama in a game that gives the winner the right to get their ass kicked by UConn on Saturday. None the less, I decided that to watch the game, I should mingle with the former SU alumni and what have you. Paul and I got picked up by Big China, and managed to bitch Chris Au into coming down for the good times. We met up with Kristen Ertel and Marisa at this joint Martells on the East Side. If you showed up in orange, or if you bitched enough, they gave you an orange wristband that entitles you to $3 Bud and Bud Lights. Now you're talking, this alumni shit is finally paying off! At first, i got to the bar, and the dude guest bartending is this kid Dave I used to get fucked up with back during my real Freshman year. I decided I would impress him by ordering a Johnny Walker Black neat. He countered with serving it to me in a faggy wine glass. Yep, Dave has not lost his touch. After sucking down that scotch, and a few BL's later, I stumble off to the bathroom to meet a guy urinating on the floor wearing a John Wallace Syracuse jersey. Might be the highlight of my week. I come back, and I find Paul talking to Little Raver Greg from Sadler back in the day. Like everyone else, he was all metrosexual'd out. Later I ran into this kid Jon who's brother used to live in my house at Syracuse. This also is all on the heals of running into George Malikitis and Colleen at Mad River Grill on Wednesday for Happy Hour. I haven't seen George in 3 years, and completely forgot he lived in Queens. Regardless, I got pretty wasted and almost didn't make it to my big morning breakfast at Bubby's with my boss and other team members! Yikes! That's what getting knocked out of the tourney will do to you.

How Sweet It Is: Once again, Syracuse is making a little noise in the tourney. This time last year, they were enroute to their Championship run. Now, thanks to 43 points from Gerry McNamaraM in the first round game vs. BYU, and a 26 point effort from Hakim Warrick in game 2 vs. Maryland, Syracuse is poised to take a crack at returning to the Final Four. Also, I'm all over the UAB bandwagon. I saw them play the cleanist, most fundemental basketball against Kentucky today and knocked them off in the process. Gotta love the underdog...

Royal Flush Rumble: Well, it finally went down, and as a result, a champion was crowned. James "Big Balls" Miranda walked away champion of the first semi-annual Royal Flush Rumble. Major props to "Big Balls" and Neil R for making it to the final table. Actually, a decent amount of our Tuesday night players did in fact make it pretty deep into the tourney, that is, expect me of course. The final two hands were rather intersting. Neil got dealt pocket Jacks, and called Miranda all in. Miranda called, had a better hand and ended up losing the hand with a Jack coming up on the turn and doubling up Neil. Next hand, Neil got dealt pocket Jacks again, and called Miranda all in once more. This time, Miranda threw down a Q-10 unsuited and pulled a Q and a 10 on the flop. Yes, the Q-10 unsuited is known as the "Miranda" for now on. Regardless, it was an amazing time. Check out the pictures as well. Major props to Mike and Lenny Cooper for hosting this event. It was very gracious of them and it was an evening that no one will forget, especially James "Big Balls" Miranda. Below is the rankings from Saturday: 44th- Boom-Boom 43rd- Tio Harry 42nd- Binji Kanakaraj 41st- Rich Bible 40th- John Buchalter 39th- Dave F. 38th- Mattsui 37th- Paul Peno 36th- Shane Winter 35th- Tio George 34th- Steve Tressa 33rd- Mike Shnorr 32nd- Scott "The Shark" Spivak 31st- Alex Fisher 30th- Johnny C. Sr. 29th- Karl "Pocket 6's" Schapira 28th- Paul Kanakaraj 27th- Lenny Cooper 26th- Andy Zimmerman 25th- Jay Camhi 24th- Greg 23rd- Tio Glenn 22nd- Lenny Eusebi 21st- Tom Bible 20th- David 19th- Jared Butt 18th- Patrick 17th- Steve 16th- Jessie Weisty 15th- Adam Mendola 14th- Glenn Reinhardt 13th- Mad Maxx 12th- Unique 11th- Jim Carr 10th- John C. Jr. 9th- Mike Cooper 8th- Vinny 7th- Ilya Falkovich 6th- Ethan Schapira 5th- "Never Nervous" Morgan Mirvis 4th- Tim Desedero 3rd- Danny 2nd- Neil Rebinowitz 1st- James "Big Balls" Miranda

A-ROD!!!!: So I'm sitting around Saturday night, getting ready for my Valentines Day Date with the Vibe Tribe and Desma and her Penn St. friends at Sushi Samba, and for some reason I decide to check the internet real quick to see if maybe I could get any dish on the Billy Edelin saga. Low and behold, Alex Rodriguez, possibly the greatest player of our generation, was just traded to the Yankees. Incredible! This might be the greatest day of my life. I had an amazing dinner with 4 hot girls, I saw Flava Flav, one of my childhood hero's at the restaurant, and I have A-Rod playing third for me...

Poll Update: Johnny Babes, aka: Johnny Awesome, aka: John Harnett and I are trying to keep these polls fresh and active. The results of the last one are in. The winner of the "Least Likely to Please a Woman" Poll is Ethan Schapira and Paul Kanakaraj! Way to go boys! The new poll is up now. Make sure you vote!

Long Lost: Well, there is nothing like getting an e-mail from a long lost college buddy. This morning I arrived to work to find an e-mail from George Stewart, one of my former roommates from 600 Euclid in Syracuse. It’s been a while, but he was kind enough to send a picture of himself and his WIFE! George was possibly one of my favorite roommates from back in the day. I can remember the fooseball marathons, as well as the Madonna dance party that involved me and George talking two girls into making out, and then proceeded to dance in our windows, creating a small crowd from the street. George said he’s doing well, enjoying married life, and even bought a fooseball table to remind him of the old days. It’s good to see that some traditions never die…

Gonzo Knowledge: Right now I'm reading this Hunter S. Thompson book, his most recent one called Kindgom Of Fear. I was reading for a while last night when I read something he wrote that stuck a nerve with me. Morality is temporary; Wisdom is permanent. Ho ho. Take that one to bed with you. I did, and I still am thinking about it. Just give it some though...

Picture Gallery Updates: I finally got some pictures of Christmas and NYE in the Gallery. Both events were amazing, and I'm glad I have the pics to back them up...