Friday 28 August 2009

In other news

Bought Shameless seasons three and four off Amazon and season three was actually seasons one to three. I now have Seasons one and two twice (are you confused?). Well, if anyone wants seasons one and two drop me a line and I'll post them to you because that's the sort of guy I am.
Found out that I didn't win the Golf competition last week because it was the first gold leaf event I had entered this year and was inelligible to win. Really pissed off. Am teeing off in an hour and will be telling all and sundry exactly how I feel.
Had to put one of my cats down a few months ago and since then then other one wont come into the house for more than ten minutes at a time. I'm guessing it's shitting itself that I may take it down the vets and have it away. Because the weather is so shit I've got my mate to make it a kennel. I may post a picture soon.
My Wife and Daughter are back from Barcelona and they bought me a wicked Barca top. It's a polo shirt as opposed to a footie top but it's also a small as opposed to a medium. Bitches.
Having £100 on the following - Chelsea, Schalke, Spuds, Alkmaar and Real.
That's all.
Later.

Wednesday 26 August 2009

Blind date

San Diego Moms blog wants to know about blind dates. Here's mine.

My first ever job was in an accountants doing payroll and other boring shite. It was a good laugh there but I had to drive to work and I broke my arm playing Football so had to pack it in. This was during the Miners strike so I signed on the dole for the first and last time and would give my giro to the miners fund every Thursday. I could only afford to do this has I was working for my mates uncle. After six months of this I get summonsed to the benefits office and told in no uncertain terms that I had to actively seek work. At this time there were these things called Community Programmes which you could only work on if you had been unemployed for six months, which I had been. Mainly, they employed people to clean out canals and shit like that. Reluctantly, I travelled to Cardiff for an interview.
My mate drove me down and I sat in this office with this Woman who scared the shit out of me. She was really attractive in a designer suit, School teacher, glasses, Gestapo sort of way but her demeanour was more the Sir Alex Ferguson, in your face, hair dryer treatment. At the end of the interview I was offered the job on a twelve month contract but turned it down as I still couldn't drive. This wasn't good enough for Ms Davies who more or less threatened to ensure my dole was stopped if I didn't take the job. I knew I could sort out a lift until my arm came out of plaster so agreed. She then told me that I had to start the next day. So I went home, signed off, arranged a lift and turned up.
What a fucking disaster.
First off she gives me a bollocking for not wearing a tie. I'm then shown into this massive office with several desks and no one in there. I sit down and wait and wait and wait some more. By now it's nine o clock and the phones are ringing off the hook. Finally, with nobody appearing I answer one of the phones. The conversation goes like this:
Me, "Hi, Community programmes head office, how can I help you?"
Caller, "Where's my fucking wages you fucking twat? If there's no fucking money in my account by dinner time I'm going to come down there with a sledge hammer and fuck you up!"
Me. "Oh oh".
Ms Davies appears as I'm getting up to leave and takes me into the Directors office. He explains that the last load of people that they had doing the payroll were useless. In those days Directors were paid annually and these numpties had changed the payroll frequency to yearly for them but forgot to change it back. Subsequently, everyone had a years pay paid into their accounts as opposed to a week or months salary. They then tried to cover up what they had done and failed. Ms Davies had sacked all four of them and replaced them with me. At the time there were over 1500 people employed on these programmes.
This guy, whose name I forget, talked me into staying and my first job was to ensure everyone, Mr sledgehammer especially, got paid. I told the Director about this guy who informed me that over half the people cleaning canals and shit had been in prison which was why they couldn't get jobs anywhere else. Fucking great.
Anyhow, I got on with this guy ok but Ms Davies made my life hell. She was like a prison warden.
"Why haven't you shaved today? Tuck your shirt in. Don't come to work wearing jeans again".
I knew though that she couldn't do fuck all has I was the only person there who could do the payroll so I took the piss big time.
After about two months I'm called into her office again for a bollocking because I'd come in half hour late. She's ranting away and I'm staring out of the window thinking another ten months and I can leave this shithole. The Directors office was adjacent to hers and he used to sit there, rolling his eyes as I was getting shafted and basically trying to make me laugh. He was a top bloke.
There was a few regional offices and I dealt with them on a daily basis. There was one woman I'd talk to regularly about stuff. First off it was all professional but two months down the line it had become quite flirty. She rang me after this latest bollocking and after sorting out some payroll issues she asked me if I fancied meeting up for a drink. Being young, dumb and full of cum I agreed.
We met up the next night at this pub on the outskirts of Cardiff and she was nothing like I had imagined. First off, she was quite a bit older than me. I was eighteen and she was mid thirties. She had shoulder length brown hair and the most amazing blue eyes. She was wearing a charcoal pin stripe jacket and skirt, white blouse, with a clearly visible white lacy bra underneath and high heels. She didn't need the high heels as she was five foot eight without them and I'm a short arse. She was also sporting a magnificent tan. My first impression was that she looked like Ms Davies but with a personality.
We had a few drinks and I offered to drive her home. She suggested that we went to an hotel. I agreed. I wont turn this into a porn post but I ended up having the night of my life.
The next day I get into work all happy, albeit twenty minutes late and am immediately summonsed for my daily bollocking. I'm in Ms Davies office and off she goes on one whilst I stare out of the window. And then I saw it. There's a photograph on the window sill of Ms Davies and this woman I'd shagged the night before.
After her rant was over I gently enquired "Who is that in the photo with you?". Ms Davies shot me a what's it to you, you litle twat look and said "my sister, why?".
I couldn't resist it so informed her, with a big fucking grin on my face, "She's the reason I'm late, I shagged her last night". The Director, whose name I have just remembered was Mr Hooper, came flying into the office red with rage. "You fucked my wife last night?". My grin rapidly disappeared as he threw a punch at me. I stepped inside it, grabbed him by the throat and put him over the desk, right hand poised to spark him out. As I tried to calm him down by telling him I hadn't known it was his Wife, Ms Davies' Sister and she had asked me out and suggested we did the dirty deed, Ms Davies cracked me over the head with her stilleto. Fucking bitch. By now there were a few people in the office and I was bundled out, blood pouring down my face, with the pair of them calling me all the names under the sun. The stupid part of it was that they couldn't sack me because they hadn't employed anyone to help me so I was the only one there who could run the payroll.
I rang this Woman up to warn here and she laughed. Turns out she had been trying to leave Mr Hooper for ages and she hated Ms Davies.
I stayed there for another three months. The recently seperated Mr Hooper glared at me every single second. Ms Davies, who I found out had only been employed by Mr Hooper because she was his Sister-in-law and her rants only tolerated for the same reason, gave me a wide berth and no further bollockings. All the other staff treated me like an hero. Mrs Hooper nee Davies resigned and I never saw her again.
I've also never been on a blind date since.
Later.

Monday 24 August 2009

Knackered

The last week or so has been a nightmare.

My boss has been off so I’ve been covering him as well as doing my own job. Stupidly, my job was previously covered by three different people so in effect I’ve been doing four peoples work over the last two weeks. This has entailed me getting up at 5.00 am every morning and not getting home until gone 7 pm most nights. I’m absolutely fucking knackered.
The worst thing is my Wife and Daughter have been away and I’ve been too tired to capitalise. Last week they were in Devon and this week they’re in Barcelona. In all this time I’ve managed the grand total of four pints!
I could have gone to watch the Blues on Friday but fell asleep and didn’t wake up until ten in the evening. I had a ticket for Cardiff v Bristol yesterday but played Golf in the morning, sat down about noon and woke up at 4.30 in the afternoon.
Thank fuck my boss is back today.
I did play Golf on Saturday morning though in the Captains Cup and scored 48 points. Needless to say my name is now mud in the Club house. I’ve been dropped eight shots and my handicap is now down to what it was before I re joined this spring. There was also a pair event and my mate and I racked up 56 points. His name is mud by association.
Poker wise, I’ve been foolish enough to play when really tired and have dropped $500 in the last week. Looking back on the hand histories I think I’ve been unlucky but I was checking them half asleep so who knows?
Fortunately, I’ve won about £300 on the Footie so it’s not all bad. Would have been a shit load more had Inter won yesterday.
I started watching Shameless during the latest series and got really into it so have bought series 1 and 2 to watch. All I can say is it’s an awesome programme and if you haven’t watched it you should.
Talking of DVD’s, I bought a couple at a car boot sale a few weeks back and have just discovered that they are for a regional 1 player. I believe this is for USA settings so I’ve been tucked up. Bastards. Anyhow, the DVD’s are Munich and Deep Blue Sea so if any of my American readers want them, drop me a line at papster@fsmail.net and I’ll stick them in the post to you.
Hopefully everything will be back to normal, work wise and I’ll be able to post a bit more frequently after today. I'll also be catching up on my favourite blogs and promise to leave some comments.
Later.

Wednesday 12 August 2009

This week again incl. Thursday

I’ve got another three days off with my Daughter so here’s what we did today.

Went for breakfast in our new favourite café. I had a wicked full breakfast and she had a bacon and cheese toasty. Both were superb.

Mucked about in the house for a while doing the dishes, washing the floors, playing connect 4 for money before heading down to the Mega bowl for a game of ten pin bowling. I have to say that my Daughter isn’t too bad and with two rounds to go she was beating me by three points. It was at this stage that I did what any Father would do. I started sledging her.

For all the USA Moms who read this and might not be familiar with the term “sledging”, it’s normally used in Cricket by fielders trying to put the Batsmen off. It can be quite funny or can result in a punch up but is mostly in good humour. Needless to say, mine nearly resulted in me and my ten year old Daughter brawling in the middle of Mega bowl.

It started off with a “you’re just like your Mother when it comes to sport, crap” and was followed by a few “you lucky so and so” before ending up with an in your face “I’ll bet you a years pocket money you can’t hit that pin down”.

The pressure was mounting, my Daughter strode forward with one pin to hit, I hissed and in the instant before she released the ball reminded her that this was for £250. She stopped, gave me a look that could stop a buffalo in its tracks (learnt from her Mother) and rolled the ball down the lane. It took an eternity, veering from one side to another. Or so it seemed, with me willing it to miss. It didn’t. She ended up with a strike and a spare to win by fucking loads. What everyone was thinking has my Daughter did the most elaborate winners dance down the aisle, God only knows. I just sat there, hands in head, bemoaning my luck.

How the fuck can you lose £250 to a ten year old playing ten pin bowling?

Anyhow, after she stopped gloating and texting her mates, I took her for a celebratory McDonalds.

Tomorrow we’re off to Porthcawl for a game of crazy Golf, double or quits of course.

Watch this space.

Thursday............

Change of plans, we went to Barry Island instead.

I cut a deal with my Daughter over breakfast this morning that I would give her £125 to take to Barcelona and play double or quits on the other £125. Like the fool that she is, she agreed.

We pitched up at Barry Island at dinner time and headed straight to a chip shop. Fish and chips twice, freshly caught and cooked so the guy behind the counter reckoned, £12.

“You’re having a fucking laugh aren’t you”, I politely enquired? He wasn’t. They were nice though.

Strolled up to the crazy golf place and the attendant obviously knew that this was a grudge match worthy of a Ryder Cup when I pulled out my Ping belly putter and a Pro V1 ball. My Daughter was stuck with a £2 putter and a 2p ball. Advantage moi.

Lined my first putt up and stroked it through a myriad of obstacles to five inches. My Daughter seven putted. I almost felt sorry for her but quickly remembered that I had forked out £500 for her and my Missus to fuck off to Barcelona without me and was giving her another £125 to blow on crap. Beat her by about 70 shots.

We then sat on the beach front for an hour or so before heading back to Cardiff. On the way home she reminded me that her and my Missus were off to Devon on Saturday for five days to see my Wife’s best mate.

“We need to get Sian something for her Birthday on Tuesday Dad.”

Stopped off in Marks and Spencer’s to pick up a few things. My Daughter then proved that she isn’t stupid by cajoling me into buying a few other things and before I could even blink an eye, I’m £200 out of pocket. I pity the poor sap that ends up marrying her.

Tomorrow we’re off up my Mums for the day. Should be relatively cheap and the only gambling we’ll be doing is when we take our lives in our hands eating whatever my Mum has burnt.

The Poker front has been two steps forward, one step back. I’ve been hovering on a $150 profit on Full Tilt for about two weeks. Highest has been $200, lowest about $50. In fairness I’m not having much luck, Getting great cards and shite flops. One good thing though is the $100 bonus they’re offering which I’m eating into very quickly. Ladbrokes is about the same. I’ve lost about £10 but earned 600 odd points. Don’t think there’s any chance of getting to Gold Status this month but all points carry forward and I’m on 1300 so far. If I can get to 2000 then I should manage it next month.

I noticed Pud gave me another mention in his blog and I tried to leave a comment but couldn’t for some reason. So, if you’re reading Pud, cheers mate and hopefully we’ll have that beer on the next RTR piss up. And if you’re a poker player and are not a member of RTR, then why fucking not. Check it out because there are some great trips being lined up, notably Amsterdam and Dublin. Obviously, there’s a lot more going on that that though so sign up and start reading the forums.

Thanks for reading my drivel once again and catch you all soon.

Friday 7 August 2009

Last few days

My Missus has been working this week so I've had the last three days off to look after my Daughter.
Did fuck all on Wednesday has it pissed down all day. Well, not quite true. My Daughter did fuck all apart from watching TV and I did fuck all apart from play Poker.
Yesterday we went out for lunch to a cafe staffed entirely by people with Downs syndrome. I expected the worse but the food was actually superb. I had a chicken Jalfrezi which was as good as in any Indian restaurant I've been. My Daughter had a burger which was fantastic. We then mooched over the park for a while before my Missus came home and the pair of them fucked off to Bristol to see a scooby doo play?
Today we went to meet the Wife dinner time and popped into my favourite place, the Spice Route. They do a buffet which is all you can eat and have a tremendous selection of Indian and Chinese food. After stuffing ourselves my Missus went back to work and me and the girl went to see the Land of the Lost. What a brilliant film. And it has Anna Friel in it as well. The scenes with the T Rex are funny as fuck and it's well worth taking your kids to watch if you've got nothing else to do.
On the poker front I'm trying to clear a FT bonus and gain a Gold Star staus on Ladbrokes. Both are going well although I'm not really making any money.
The Footie season kicks off tonight and Cardiff are home tomorrow. I've had a offer of a ticket and I may venture down there.
I'm going to have a few bets this year and I'll probably slap them on here. I'll be starting off with a bank of £500 and betting 10% every time on doubles or trebles. I'll probably have a few accumulators as well and I'll try to post the bets up before they start.
Had a great hand yesterday for a $200 pot when I hit a straight flush against another guys quads. Can't find the hand history but it was a sweet feeling has the guy had been whining for ages. Needless to say, he went into overdrive after that hand.
On Sunday is the final of the RTR Paris Competition. It looks like a straight battle between Cogs and Snake and should be a good laugh. Next Competition up after this is a trip to Amsterdam. I'll probably enter but tank it as I get into enough trouble in this country without being left to my own devices in sin City. And that's my excuse and I'll be sticking to it.
Later.
Edit - have had £50 on Cardiff, Leicester, Northampton and Rotherham not to lose at just over evens. And a tenner on Leeds, Charlton, Rotherham, Bremen, Dortmund and Beyern at 16/1. Also had 5 x £1 trebles on away wins in Scottish Division 2. Good luck if you have a punt.
Winning start and bank now stands at £552.

Monday 3 August 2009

RTR - DTD - OMG - WTF

Just to warn you, this is a really long post!!!

Went to Nottingham on Friday for a weekend of drinking, Poker, debauchery and merriment. Here's my hazy memorys of what occured. Should you read any other blogs which may or may not print scurrilous versions of events, please remember, it only happened if there's a photograph.

Got up at 4.30 am on Friday for work. First of several mistakes this weekend, should have booked the day off. Got home about elevenish and informed Mrs Rubbish I was off to Nottingham which didn't go down to badly. Caught the train and had a can of Strongbow.
It was probably around about Derby when the realisation of what I was doing hit home. I was going on the piss with several guys that, not only had I never met, I hadn't even spoken to on the phone or MSN. I hastily drank another can whilst day dreaming of rooming with some combat 18 thug or ending up in a cell with some guy who informs me he's wanted in several countries for kidnapping and I just happen to be the spitting image of his accomplice. Luckily, I remembered that not only have I been on countless Rugby tours, stag weekends, jolly boy outings, Football trips and lads holidays, I'm also the biggest liability on these trips.
I got into Nottingham and flagged a cab down. Told the guy where I was staying and he drove 30 yards up the road, turned left, pulled into a lay by and pointed across the road. And for this the twat charged me £4.60. I've been on longer dodgem fucking rides. Walked into reception, still cursing, gave the girl my name and she looked at me blankly and said "no room in your name sir".
This is when I realised how badly we had organised this trip. Not only did I not know who I was sharing with but I didn't actually know anyones name! Thankfully I did have a couple of mobile numbers which had been e-mailed to me so I managed to get hold of one of the boys who said he'd make a call and two minutes later this guy walks out of the bar and says "are you rubbish?". I immediately realised what an absolutely shit name I have for this blog. Why the fuck didn't I call it Ace@poker?
"Hi, you must be Ace, how's it going?"
Much better. Or even, areyoutheguythatshaggedthatfitbirdfromhollyoaks@poker.
You could be standing at the bar and one of the boys comes up and says "areyoutheguythatshaggedthatfitbirdfromhollyoaks, what you drinking?". Instant legendary status.
Anyhow, I embarrassingly had to admit to being rubbish, the room got sorted and I hit the bar to meet the rest of them.
I should point out that we all post on a poker forum called RTR and the guys I met have blogs on my blogs list. In no particular order they are, DOV, No cash, Mr O, DD, Amatay and Cogs who doesn't have a blog because he's too fucking lazy!
Everyone had turned up by Five so we had a few beers and then headed into Nottingham to meet another guy called Longy. For some reason we all followed Cogs, maybe because he was the tallest? We crossed the road, sprinted across an eight lane roundabout, recrossed the road, turned left, turned right, walked another mile, turned the corner, nearly fell into a canal and then Cogs points across it and says "there he is". I was fucking amazed because Cogs had never been to Nottingham before. I'm sure he's half man, half Sat Nav. We had a few more ciders with Longy before getting a couple of Taxis to DTD. We had an hour or so to kill before we could register for the tourney we were playing on Saturday so we filled a cash table. This was where I got my first poker lesson of the weekend courtesy of Mr No Cash who raped me for £150.
After registering we headed back into Nottingham to a pub in an old Church. Cogs then carefully navigated us through countless back alleyways to a McDonalds where you could only buy meals and not single burgers? We then traipsed from one side of Notts to the other, passing about 60 pubs, to go to a Walkabout which seemed quite ironic to me. We spent a while in there and then decided to go to a pub across the road. This is where it all went wrong.
I thought five of us had walked into the pub so I stood at the bar and ordered five vodka red bulls. Turned around and I'm in there on my own. OMG WTF. Get my phone out and it's switched off so I drunkenly try to enter my PIN number and fail. Next thing, there a message on my screen saying "enter your PUK number"? OMG WTF.
So, I'm stood in this bar which is absolutely bouncing with five drinks I can't stand drinking, no way of getting hold of anyone and to round it all off, I'm absolutely wankered.
I neck the first drink and seriously consider calling it a night and getting a taxi back to the hotel when "your love keeps lifting me higher" by Jackie Wilson starts blasting out. This Woman wanders over to me and drags me onto the dance floor. I throw a few "Ace" moves and we end up having a couple more dances. The bar was playing classic 60's and 70's songs and I must admit, those are the tunes that get me going.
I drown a couple more drinks and have a couple more dances. This girl was with about five of her mates and had the boys been in there I'm sure we would have had a ball. Finally, her mates drag her off and I'm left on my lonesome again. OMG WTF. But the old "Ace", (beginning to like the sound of this name) animal magnetism was drawing the women in like moths to a light and two minutes later this woman strolls up and starts chatting away. I finish the drinks off, buy a Guinness and something for her and have another dance. Finally, we head off for a curry where I have another Guinness and a bottle of wine. OMG WTF. At half three I realise I've been on the go for 23 hours and need my bed so I drunkenly find the hotel and collapse.
That is my definitive version of the Friday night and unless there's photos, it didn't happen.
Get up about elevenish on Saturday feeling rough as fuck. Wake DD up to borrow some toothpaste and he hasn't got any. Please note that DD is a Scottish bloke and not some bird with a big chest. Wander down to Tescos for some fresh air before hitting the shower and then the bar.
The tournament we're playing doesn't start until eight so the last thing I want to do is go large on it. Unfortunately, this would probably have been the best thing I could have done. Slowly but surely everyone turns up except for DOV who is like an hamster on steroids. I tell Cogs my phone is fucked and I need a Carphone Warehouse. With that he's marching down the street with us all jogging behind trying to catch up. We crossed the road, sprinted across an eight lane roundabout, recrossed the road, turned left, turned right, walked another mile, wandered through a BHS, came out the other side into a shopping precinct, walk another half mile straight to a Carphone Warehouse. How the fuck did he do that?
The boys head off for something to eat, which I'm guessing you all wish you had made a sandwich and a stiff drink at this point but don't worry, only another 3,000 words to go. I spend an hour getting my phone sorted and head to the bar they're in. After forcing a cheeky cider down I start to perk up and DOV turns up about fiveish and tells us a story about a trip he'd been on to the Czech Republic. A dozen or so alarm bells start sounding off in my head as I realise I'm not the biggest liability on tour for once.
We head up to DTD and I plonk myself in the bar and order a £9.50 burger. OMG WTF. Luckily it was nice but £9.50, OMG WTF.
Two of the other boys on the RTR forum are there playing in an £300, two day tourney so a couple of the guys head off to rail them whilst No cash fucks off to rape some other poor suckers on the cash tables. By this time I reckon he's had 2 Stellas, 3 Ciders, 7 double Jamiesons and sodas, and is now on his third Guinness. Respect.
Ant, who I'm not sure if he has a blog and Mik are having mixed fortunes. Ant lost a big chunk of his stack when his KQ on a KK rag flop ran into AK. Mik was second in chips at the time. Ant finally crashed out about sevenish and joined us in the bar, Mik came over when they went on a 20 minute break and managed to talk for the entire 20 minutes without taking a breath once. I was really starting to struggle by this point and it got even worse when we were seated for our tourney and I found myself in the VIP room with the air con jacked up. Twenty minutes into the tourney I had to walk out because I thought I was going to collapse. Another twenty minutes later I was walking out when I played AA as bad as you possibly can. No cash ahd bombed out early and was on the cash tables killing everyone. Cogs was soon with him followed by DOV then DD. Longy called it a night and disappeared quite early. Mik bombed out of his tourney when his KK all in pre flop was called by QQ and AK with an Ace on the river. Absolutely gutting. Ant bombed out of the £50 and as he doesn't drink (gay?) drove Mik home (gay?). Mr O was fast getting blinded down in the £50 and eventually went out in 15th. I was really gutted for him has he was card dead on a very aggresive table. Amatay was chip leader or there abouts from when I started railing them with three tables left. It was at this point I got my second Poker lesson of the weekend. I don't think he was in trouble once. He made some great moves, folded at the right times and it became quite apparent when the final table sat that he was the man to beat. There was a young kid on the table who had roughly the same chip count as Amatay but everytime he made a move this kid would fold. Eventually, the two of them knocked everyone else out and Amatay shagged him within about five minutes of being heads up. £1645 for the win plus another £90 for the last longest bet between us all. The lazy fucker wont surface now until mid November.
By now it was three in the morning and I was seriously fucked. I lasted another hour or so before retiring to my pit.
Got up on Sunday and fucked off early to catch the ten o' clock train to Cardiff. Rail network was down between Notts and Derby which meant I then had to catch a bus. I, of course, missed my connection and was stranded in Derby for two fucking hours. Finally got home about fiveish last night.
I must admit I had a great weekend with the boys. Strange how eight guys who have never met each other can click and have a ball? Just in case you read their blogs, should you ever get to the end of this post, here's my take on them.

DD had the misfortune of sharing a room with me and I will forever be apologising to him when we meet up again. Great guy, steady poker player, very decent drinker and hopefully he hasn't got a camera. Top man and the one I spoke to the most. Where's my toothbrush and toothpaste you fucker? Looking forward to rooming with him again!!!!!!!!!!

Cogs is the South England yomping champion, six years running and his brain is powered by Tom Tom. Very agressive on the tables, very laid back off them. Really good company and I'm not just saying that because he laughed at my jokes. Was really pleased when he won a few hundred at cash on Saturday. Top geezer.

DOV is a fucking maniac. Talks at 100 mph to anyone within a 100 yard radius. Unfortuantely for him, all the talking takes it out of him and he's representing England in the Commonwealth games next time round in the daytime sleeping contest. Every tour needs a DOV who is going to gee everyone up and he certainly did that. Top guy and a brilliant laugh.

No cash is RTR's resident degenerate. Up til 6 am with DOV both nights but also up at 12 on the Saturday, in the bar, on Stella. Fucking awesome. Great cash player who spun £50 up to £350 in an hour on Friday and probably for even more on the Saturday. Learnt a lot watching him play. Definite candidate for a new liver in five years time. Him and DOV together were like Ant and Dec on Crack.

Amatay was the guy who I was most surprised with. I've read his blog for ages and I thought he would be an absolute nutter. I actually found him to be quite quiet and reserved. That said, fuck knows what any of them got up to on Friday night? Superb poker player and another guy I learnt quite a bit from by watching. I would really have liked to have sat next to him whilst he was on the final table and quizzed him on the moves he was making. Top bloke who still owes me for the last Ad I put up for him. Come on fish, you're fucking loaded. Really nice guy.

Mr O was another guy who was on the quiet side but with DOV in your face nobody really got a chance to get a word in edgeways. Spoke to him for an hour on the Sunday morning and he's a great guy though and drinks like a fish. Only draw back was he's from Liverpool. Had to leave him on Sunday when he started nicking hubcaps in the Hotel car park. Another top guy.

Longy was our Nottingham tour guide from hell. Him and Cogs walked us so far I'm three inches shorter. Didn't really get a chance to speak to Longy much but he's been a Poker Pro for five years which is quite impressive. Hopefully we can have an RTR trip somewhere else and Longy would be with us 24/7 so I'd get to know him better.

Ant and Mik seemed like a nice couple.

Only joking guys. Didn't really get to speak to them much, maybe next time?

If you've reached this far then you've got too much time on your hands. All the best and remember, what goes on tour stays on tour.

Later.