The Latest Mix II

Yes, I made another CD, culled from the vast collection of porn music found on my hard drive. Here is the list and liner notes. Feel free to tell me how crappy my taste in music is.

• Shake Shake Shake Senora -- Harry Belafonte. Ok, so it's actually called 'Jump in the Line' but nobody really knows that. But do you remember that scene in Beetlejuice?
• Unchain My Heart -- Joe Cocker. This was a little undiscovered gem of a song, for me, until football season. That But Light commercial where the Dalmation jumps from the Clydesdale wagon into the Miller Lite truck featured the song, and the keyboard just sounded so frickin' cool on Rob's surround sound in our living room. Had to get it.
• Push It -- Salt N Pepa. This song is one of the most fun tunes ever recorded. Not only does it remind me of epic night I first met Andrea, it was also the featured song on one of the best commercials ever made. I also like to throw an amended lyric out some nights at work-- This table's not for everybody, only the sexy people!
• Me and Bobby McGee -- Janis Joplin. This song reminds me of Amy, because once we get a few drinks into her and Scotty2Hottie, (not a tough sell, by the way), he'll bust out his guitar and she'll sing this song with all the enthusiasm of a hippie born twenty years too late. It's especially fun at the end when Janis goes into 'freak-out' mode.
• Battleship Chains -- The Georgia Satellites. Just a fantastic hillbilly rock tune. Not nearly as popular as the 'free milk and a cow' song, but much much better.
• Candyman -- Christina Aguilera. You all know my thoughts on Miss Christina already. But this is a damn good song, too. And a killer video.
• Jump Around -- House of Pain. I love this tune, even though it gets overplayed at sporting events (Hello Wisconsin!). It gives us white guys a chance to make fools of ourselves, as if we didn't take advantage often enough already.
• Ride Your White Horse -- Laid Back. I always thought it was Bootsie Collins, Grandmaster Flash, or somebody like that. Apparently, lots of people have covered it. But everybody needs a little funk at some point in the day.
• I Second That Emotion -- Smokey Robinson. This is a damn good tune if you haven't heard it in awhile.
  
• We Ride Tonight -- The Sherbs. This was an MTV one-hit wonder back when I was in 9th grade. But holy hell what a great song. It took me almost 15 years of searching to track down a copy.
• 65 Love Affair -- Paul Davis. This is another one of those fun songs that remind me of the carefree days of youth when all I had to worry about was how many times I could get Stephani Layton to slow dance with me on Saturday night.
• Pure & Simple -- The Lightning Seeds. I don't know when or how this song entered my consciousness, but it's a great one. I have no idea when it was released or anything about the group, but it's a favorite of mine that has "Early 90's before music started to suck" written all over it.
• Somebody Told Me -- The Killers. Did you know they were from Vegas? I didn't, until I watched Jeopardy the other day.
• A Town Called Malice -- The Jam. This tune was from the 80's but it sounds like it's from the 60's. Nobody had ever heard of it until that Pierce Brosnan/Greg Kinnear movie, The Matador, came out a couple of years ago. But I've had a copy of it on CD for about 14 years now.
• Don't Change -- INXS. This is by far the greatest offering from a group that put out a whole shiatload of amazing music. I think this is one of my all-time favorite songs.
• Wings of a Butterfly -- HIM. I wrote about this song about a year ago. European power pop at it's finest!
• High School Never Ends -- Bowling For Soup. They're like Blink 182, except with more talent. And I like how they take the US Weekly crowd down a peg or two.
• Voodoo Child -- Jimi Hendrix. I loves me some Brother Jimi (and the other Brother Jimmy, too), and I think this is my favorite song of his.
• Keep It Comin' Love -- KC & the Sunshine Band. Who doesn't love classic disco? And this is my favorite song by KC and the boys.
• Ole Ole Ole -- Ricky Martin. Yes, I know I put it on the first CD, but after listening to it all the way through, I realized there were some messed up tags in my music library, and what I had actually put on the other CD was House of Pain by Faster Pussycat. I fixed the tags, but couldn't fix the other CD. So I've added it here. And I think the name of the song is actually The Cup of Life, not Ole Ole Ole. Either way, it makes me want to go to a bullfight or drink some tequila with a worm in it.
  

That's it for Volume II. A couple more of these, and I'll have enough music to take a road trip to Phoenix.

Mikey

Paying For My Laziness

Yeah yeah yeah, so I didn't post anything yesterday. And I didn't do much the day before that, either.

But ask anyone who actually tries to keep a blog going--It's always tough, and some days are tougher than others. And then when I write something that *I* think is interesting, and get very few--or even worse--no comments, the self-doubt creeps in and I find myself asking if it's worth the effort. Some days the answer is a resounding yes, but some days the answer is "not really".

Or sometimes I feel just plain lazy, and sitting at the computer is the lowest of all priorities, somewhere below scrubbing the shower tile or tightening down the loose toilet seat. But I've been working on all of those little undesirable projects all morning, and they're getting done. I still have to fold laundry and vacuum my room, but most everything else is finished. So here I sit at my desk listening to my latest randomized CD (more on that later) and trying to make my otherwise dull week sound somewhat interesting.

I know everyone likes to read about food, but after the pizza last week, I've not been feeling particularly inspired. I made some decent enchiladas the other night, but it was more of a Sandra Lee-type of recipe--canned sauce, spice packets, etc. So it was fairly pedestrian. And I have about a ton of leftover Spanish rice, and with the half-pound or so of seasoned beef still in the fridge, I'll probably find myself eating burritos all weekend. (Dougie--I need your expertise!)

I had my eye exam yesterday, and it went well. Yes, my eyesight has degraded a bit since my last exam in 2001, but not too much. So Tara, there are a few reasons I'm not getting contacts. First of all, I don't need them--I only need assistance to see off in the distance, and sitting with contacts in at the computer would likely drive me nuts, or even worse, probably hasten the need for a stronger prescription down the road. Also, I work in a casino, and all that second-hand smoke would probably just kill my eyes if I wore contacts. I remember all those trips to Vegas back in the day with Derek, and his biggest whine every trip was about his contacts and the smoke. I won't subject myself to that. And third of all, I'm not that vain to insist on having contacts. Some people actually look good in glasses (Howzie!), and of course I consider myself one of them.

Anyhow, the exam went well, and the doctor said my eyes weren't in as bad of shape as I thought they were. Even the glaucoma test didn't bother me as much as I remembered, and my peepers are glaucoma-free. Must be all that glaucoma medicine I've been taking all these years...

I'm going for the record on how many times I can use the word 'glaucoma' in one post. Glaucoma!

I also avoided getting my eyes dilated, which I hate with the fire of a thousand suns. They had an eye-mapping machine as an alternative, which generated pictures of the inside of my eyeballs that looked like modern art when blown up (the pictures, not my eyes). Once we had a look at them, the doc took her time explaining everything to me, and of course, besides a case of being mildly near-sighted, my eyes are in good shape. And two of the chicks in the office complimented me on my long and luscious eyelashes. Seriously. I'm guessing the staff at a gynecology office would have to be more judicious with their compliments...

The only downer of the visit was that they didn't have my frames in the right size or color on hand, so they have to special order them first, and then send 'em off to the lab to get the lenses made and mated. So it's gonna be a few weeks. But I'll post pictures of my new, more sophisticated look as soon as they arrive.

Other than the eye doctor, I didn't do a damn thing yesterday, which is why I've been so busy this morning. After my morning coffee and breakfast, I attacked half of the bathroom (the gross half) -- not that it was filthy, it just needed a good scrubbin', kinda like Britney Spears after a long weekend bender. I also did a couple of loads of laundry (How do my bed sheets get dusty? Seriously, I think that speaks ill of my recent social life...), I cleaned and polished my laptop, made another CD, and picked up all the little pieces of scrap paper, cough drop wrappers, and bottle caps from around my bedroom.

But I guess it's cool. My days off were the definition of sloth, and now that I've got to go back to work tonight, I've spent my day being a productive person. There's something to be said for being lazy though...

Mikey

They Always Said I'd Go Blind

I can't help myself--I had to do it.

My original eye appointment was set for two weeks from yesterday, but I had to change it. I've really noticed lately how bad my eyesight has gotten. Not that I'm gonna end up like Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder (hell, I can't play the piano anyways), but since I made that initial visit to the optometrist's office last week, I've started paying attention to things I should be able to see, but can't.

It takes me longer to focus and middle-to-long distances. I can't read the scores on the bottom of the screens on the huge TVs at the casino from more than thirty feet away. I already mentioned that I can't read the progressive amounts on any slot machine more than fifty feet away. But driving at night, when I first leave the house, is when I feel like I'm most affected, and it actually feels a bit dangerous for a minute or two.

So today, while I was puttering around the house, I decided to call the eye doctor back and see if I could move up my appointment--it's going to take a week to ten days to get my glasses back anyways, so I might as well get the ball rolling as soon as possible. Luckily, they had an opening tomorrow morning, so I grabbed it. So maybe by the time my original exam appointment rolls around, I'll be sportin' some new trendy specs. And I won't be a danger to those around me when I get behind the wheel.

Mikey

This Reminded Me of Reverend Dave

Actually, here's a real picture of him. It was taken at the track--he had a motorcycle race that day, but just like Thurman Thomas in the Super Bowl, he couldn't find his helmet, so he had to go with whatever headgear was available.




Mikey

Welcome to Tuesday...

Or as some are calling it, Day Two of the Patriot's Eternal Shame...

Heh.

I gotta tell ya, I really enjoyed seeing the glazed look of disbelief on the mugs of hundreds of Patriot fans in the casino on Sunday night. It was a thing of beauty. When the game kicked off, I was thinking that I'd like to see the P-men go 19-0, only because the only bigger douchebags in the world than smug New England fans are the asshats on the 1972 Dolphins.

But after that first ten-minute drive of the game by the Giants offense, I realized that hey, all those players from the '72 Dolphins are all getting old and will start dying off soon enough, and eventually we won't have to listen to Mercury Morris talking through his colostomy bag. And since I have no particular allegiance to either team, coupled with the fact that I didn't make a bet on the game this year, I just got to enjoy an old-fashioned beat-down.

Seriously, is there nothing more satisfying than seeing that pretty-boy Brady getting knocked on his ass all day long? But he's probably not too upset when all was said and done. At the end of the day, he's still got three Super Bowl rings, millions of dollars in the bank, and a supermodel girlfriend. Me? My jewelry consists of a handful of bead necklaces from the Carnavale Court, I've got about $600 in my checking account, and as far as the ladies go, the highlight of my current social life is a half-hour or so of conversation and flirting per week with a smokin' hot cocktail waitress who I'm certain considers me just another one of the dorks she encounters in her daily grind.

Oh well.

Here it is almost noon on the first day of my weekend, and I haven't done a damn thing but take a shower and make a pot of coffee.

I've got a week's worth of email to catch up on--I swear I haven't answered a single email all week long, sorry guys, and the usual housework. I've also got another life-in-the-casino type of post in the hopper, along with the usual drivel I tend to crank out every now and again.

I'll get to it, so check back again later.

Mikey

Monday... Finally!

Damn, it's been a looooong week for your humble correspondent. Being Super Bowl weekend, it was extremely busy in the casino this weekend--I worked my sizable white ass off! And on a happy note, it turns out that Saturday's tokes broke the $200 barrier for the first time in over a year. Yep, that's right--in the entire calendar year of 2007, we didn't have a single day where tokes were over $200. We had one day that came close, just a few cents short, but it's been a long time since we've had a good day like that. I'm hoping yesterday was just as good, but I could tell we weren't quite as busy.

Also, I was stuck dealing mostly blackjack all weekend, and that just wears a brotha out, especially if you're doing it for three or four hours straight. Ugh.

The worst part was when I got into work on Thursday night, my first table of the week was an hour on that crappy-assed $5 Pai Gow table that everyone hates. Talk about your flea circus! Every hour on that table is an hour-long prison sentence. I was stuck over there last night too, the table was completely full for over four hours, and I didn't drop the first toke into the box until 10:30! Yep, one lone five-dollar chip hit the bottom of the box with a clang from a dude who I happened to deal four full-houses to in a row, so he georged me up with a fiver. Thinking that the box sounded a little hollow, I lifted the lid to take a look and saw that lonely chip sitting there all by itself. At that point I felt absolutely no remorse for just crushing everyone at the table over the course of the next half hour or so. Heh.

Anyhow, one of the biggest fleas in the casino (we call him 'Alvin') plays that $5 game every night, and just annoys the hell out of everyone. He's one of those guys who has to play everybody else's hand, never shuts up, and overuses the dealers name, while generally being a stiff. I swear, if I took a shot of whiskey every time I heard the name 'Mikey' when I was dealing to him, I'd be dead from alcohol poisoning inside of half an hour.

So there he was during my first hour of my workweek, just sitting there in seat 2, next to me, being an annoying little troll. The lady in seat 7, next to me on the other side, was chain-smoking her cigarettes and just letting them sit in the ashtray and burn non-stop for hours on end, creating a nasty blue haze around the table that couldn't be avoided, no matter how many times I tried to blow it back towards her.

At one point, I was riffling the cards before putting them in the Shufflemaster, and I was damn near overcome with second-hand smoke. So I started coughing loudly and uncontrollably for a few seconds. Well, at that very instant, I accidentally busted out the rankest, nastiest fart you could possibly imagine. But since I was coughing so much, combined with all of the other extraneous casino noise, nobody heard it.

A few seconds later, the foul stench started to creep across the table, damn near making my eyes water. So what did I do?

I made a full-on disgusted face and said Jesus Al, did you do that?!?!? That's just frickin' gross, man!

Of course, he was like, Huh? What?, and then about five seconds later everyone else caught a whiff and started going off on him, telling him he was a nasty freak and to have better manners and such. I totally blamed him for it and it totally stuck.

Heh.

And it was even more fun because he kept denying it and it just made him look more and more like he was guilty. I could barely contain myself, because a couple of the people at the table put their shirts up over their noses and wouldn't let it die--they just kept ripping on the guy for being so foul. He finally got so embarrassed that he left.

Highlight of the night!

Another night I was dealing Deuces Wild to this dirty old foreign guy who kept grabbing at the waitress's asses every time they'd come to the table. I swear, he was 80 years old if he was a day, and he had one of those extremely long and droopy faces that reminded me of a cross between a British senior citizen and a Bassett hound. He looked like his name would be something like Jeeves or Alistair or something like that, and was drunk on Scotch.

He kept saying stuff like Give me a jackpot hand, Mikey--I wanna go to the whorehouse tonight! much to everyone else's delight who happened to be at the table at the same time. One of the waitresses stopped by and dropped off another drink for him, and he gave her a $10 bill. She leaned down to ask him if he wanted change, and he reached over and grabbed her directly on the ass, telling her to do whatever she wanted. Of course she jumped back, kept the ten-spot, and never delivered another drink to the table.

When I was coming back from break a bit later, I saw my favorite waitress, who now had that same section. I flagged her down and pointed him out and said to avoid him. She told me that she was already aware of him and that he'd already tried to grab her earlier, so she delivered his drinks using the beer-man-in-the-stadium method, standing at the end of the table and having everyone pass it down. But she also told me that he'd already propositioned her, asking her to drive him home. When she said she didn't have a car, he said That's ok, I have a room here! and then started flicking his tongue at her... Needless to say, she was rather disgusted.

Anyhow, he sat there for hours, and I had to deal to him again. I told him that if he put a paw on "my" waitress, I'd come across this table like a spider monkey! But by that time he was so drunk and oblivious that he didn't realize that all the other players at the table were making fun of him. He kept saying he wanted to go to the whorehouse, and one of the other old guys said Dude--they're gonna make you pay double if you go!

Why's that? said 'Alistair'

Because at your age, the chick's gonna have to stand on her head in the corner so you can drop it in!

Hell, I even laughed at that one. But he finally lost enough money and drank enough Scotch that he called it a night and shuffled off to his room, alone. I never saw him again for the rest of the weekend, but I sure hope he found a nice lonely old lady and got some satisfaction.

The rest of the weekend was just a blur of drunken fools and an endless parade of cards and chips. As hard as I worked these past few days, I'm glad that tonight will be a little slower. And I saw on the road map that I'm scheduled back on my favorite string of tables in Chinatown tonight, so it'll be a nice easy way to slide into my weekend.

But I've been home for almost five hours now, and still haven't gone to bed, so I'm going to try and get a few hours worth of sleep before I head back to the cul-de-sac of broken dreams.

Peace out, y'all.

Mikey

Mailbox Triple Happiness

No, that's not the latest daily special at the neighborhood Chinese restaurant, but it's the pleasant surprise I got when I checked the mail the other day.

First of all, there were absolutely no bills to be found. Woot! Second of all, I had a few things addressed to me--

1) My L.A. Confidential DVD. I'm probably going to watch it tomorrow or Wednesday. If you haven't seen it, you're missing out--it's just a great movie all around.

2) A copy of the latest Christina Aguilera CD, courtesy of Eric in VA.

3) A check for SIX whole American dollars, my prize for coming in dead-last in the college bowl pick-em contest last month. Oh hell yeah. Mad prognosticating skillz--I has them! So I rounded up another three bucks and finally bought that elusive book of stamps I'd been hunting for.

Also on a positive note, I got a letter from the Department of Education saying that a good chunk of interest I paid last year is tax deductible. And speaking of the IRS, those rat bastards also sent me another bill friendly letter. I'm down to owing them just triple digits now, so I figure that my tax refund will cover a big slice of that and I'll be damn near out of their clutches once and for all very soon. Rounding out the field trip to the mailbox was a statement from my 401k administrator, showing that I'd lost a few hundy in market value last quarter. Doh! Oh well--it happens. I'm not too worried about that one at this point.

I still don't have my W-2 yet, although Rob got his a few days ago... I guess I'll put some shoes on and go check again this morning.

Mikey

Oh My Dear God...

I am *so* ashamed...

Regular readers know of my undying love and devotion to the Rams--they've been my favorite team ever since I was old enough to understand what the NFL was. I was so upset after they lost Super Bowl XIV that I was wanting to see the guy in the hijacked blimp carry out his evil plan on 'Black Sunday' later that night and 'get' the Steelers and all their fans. (Anybody remember that movie?). Luckily, that never happened, because later in life I found out that my buddy Eddie B.--a huge Steelers fan--was at the game with his dad...

Nowadays, the only team I wish bad things on is the Seahawks. I kinda like the Steelers, and the Jags, now.

But this... Oh dear god-- I just don't have the words. I cannot even begin to defend my own team for the following abomination which you are about to see.

You will probably want to take a shower after watching it. You don't want to catch Teh Ghey.




And here I thought that the Super Bowl Shuffle video the Bears did back in the 80's was the gayest sports video ever recorded. Clearly I was wrong.

Anyhow, since this footage is now 'out there' and the genie can't be put back in the bottle, I will no longer make fun of anyone else's team in the entire NFL, at least until the pre-season.

At least now I understand why that dude with the rainbow afro was always in the End Zone seats at every game...

Mikey

Leftovers

I hate to admit it, but I'm about pizza-d out. After two nights of Chicago-style deep dish, I had plans to meet up for lunch with Lars Vargas yesterday. As I was leaving the house to go hit the ATM and fill up the gas tank, I gave him a call.

I'll be there a few minutes after noon, he said.

I agreed on the time, said that I'd see him there, and just before I hung up, we both realized that while we agreed to meet for lunch, and never once in the past couple of weeks did we ever mention the name of the restaurant. I guess we just take it for granted that meeting for lunch means going to Grimaldi's!

The bad thing was, there were still two pieces of the home-made pizza sitting on the counter staring at me with that come-hither look. Unfortunately, I had to pass, opting for a date with their more-sophisticated east-coast cousins. In fact, those last two sliced probably won't even get eaten...

Anyhow, after hitting the ATM, gas station, and giving my truck the worst six-dollar car wash in the history of automotive cleanliness, I found myself pulling into the parking lot at my favorite restaurant. I also noticed that Lars' "police cruiser" was already there.

We didn't waste any time perusing the menu, and the waitress was already there at the table waiting for me. We broke all of the rules, ordering two 18-inch pizzas (which I said I wouldn't do again), and we also ignored the two-topping commandment that is part of my as-yet-unwritten Pizza Manifesto. On one pie we got meatball, sun-dried tomato, and onion, and on the other pie we went classic and got pepperoni, Italian sausage, and mushroom.

Of course they were still fantastic, but we realized that the B-team was working the kitchen that day (one of the pies got a little too charred on one side). We also realized that two meats equals too much grease, and sun-dried tomatoes and onions on the same pizza imparts a little too much sweetness. But that didn't stop us from our feeding frenzy. Nothing went to waste, even though we had some leftovers to take with us.

And, while we were eating, I had another only-in-Vegas moment, as somebody walked up and asked me--wait for it--Hey, are you Hurricane Mikey?

That hasn't happened in months.

It was reader Phil ("Big Mo") from someplace in Ohio, saying he's been a reader for quite awhile and was visiting Grimaldi's on my recommendation. And he just happened to stumble upon me in my native habitat--and I just happened to be wearing my Hurricane Mikey t-shirt for the first time in about a month, so between that, Lars' Hawaiian shirt, and the two huge pizzas on our table, we stood out like a couple of chubby sore thumbs. But we had a nice visit for a few minutes, but then we got back to the task at hand, which was shoving as much pizza into my pie-hole as I could before it got cold. (The pizza, not the pie-hole).

Three slices made their way home with me, and late last night after work, it was nice to come home and crack open an ice-cold bottle of IBC, put my feet up, and munch on the leftovers.

The last of the Chicago style is probably headed for the garbage can, though. I'm really just in the mood for peanut butter and jelly right now.

Mikey

Windy City Pizza Experiment #1

Since it was blowing like stink outside today, a steady 22-mph north wind, I figured it was as good a day as any to go ahead and try my hand at Chicago-style deep dish pizza.

It's finally in the oven as I type this, but I don't have high hopes for my first pizza. Here is what I've learned thus far:

• I should probably use less garlic and Tabasco in the red sauce.
  
• Getting the dough from a large sticky ball into a nice pliable disk that fits the pan perfectly is damn near impossible without *lots* of practice.
• Don't set ingredients behind me when I'm doing the final assembly. I'll forget something, like say, the mushrooms in the strainer. Once the sauce goes on top, well, the pie will look like it's got acne.
  
• I didn't need as much cheese as I thought I did.
• Don't set foil down on the counter to roll the dough on, thinking that it'll make cleaning up all that flour easier. It might be easier to clean up, but it's a cast-iron bitch to roll dough on, and even worse, pull the dough off of once it's finally close to the right size.

Anyhow, it might look a little rough, but I'm sure it'll still taste ok. Just putting the ingredients together smelled pretty damn good, but the crust worries me. It might be too thin in a couple of spots and way too thick around the edges. I guess I just need practice.

Updates to follow in a couple of hours. Maybe a picture, too.


~~~~UPDATE~~~~

Ok, we finally have a pizza! First of all, it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it would. But like I said before--just how bad can you screw up pizza? Here is a picture of the finished product:



Not too shabby... If you look closely, you'll see that the crust shrunk down a bit and pulled away from the edges of the pan. I also think it could've used a couple more minutes in the oven, but the mushrooms on top were starting to dry out, so I had to get it out of there. I also sprinkled some Parmesan cheese on top just before I put it in the oven--won't do that again--it browns too quickly. Once it came out, however, I gave it another sprinkle of Parmesan, along with some fresh chopped basil.

The sauce turned out ok--Rob gave it his seal of approval, but I could still smell the Tabasco in it. It didn't ruin it, but it wasn't as good as it could've been. I minced four cloves of garlic, sauteed them in olive oil, then added a can of crushed tomatoes and a small can of tomato paste to thicken it up. I meant to put just a teaspoon of Tabasco in, but ended up using closer to a tablespoon--a mistake I won't repeat.

Underneath the sauce was almost two pounds of Italian sausage, pepperoni, and mozzarella cheese. I went with the low-moisture part-skim mozz instead of the fresh mozzarella on this pie. It seems like the fresh stuff is more suitable for thin Neopolitan style pies, not deep dish. But we'll see where our next experiment takes us.

I'm sure I'm being almost too critical of my pizza, but only because I wanted it to be perfect, and it wasn't. On the other hand, I have a new-found respect for those guys that can roll out that dough into a perfect circle and get it to behave the way they want it to. Man, that was the hardest part--I worked up a sweat trying to work the dough, and it was still too thick around the edges.

But even though it didn't look as good as it should have, it still tasted pretty damn good, and of course I could only get down two pieces before waving the white napkin of surrender. I was stuffed.


I still have two pizza crusts in the freezer, along with a pound or so of mozzarella, a package of pepperoni, and a tub of sliced mushrooms. And one of the ladies I work with said she has an extra pizza stone she's gonna give to me, so maybe next week I'll try my hand at thin-crust pan-less pizza. It's gotta be easier than this monster. Of course, I might still be eating leftovers until then.

Mikey

Time For Some New Glasses

So, I had to head down to the grocery store earlier today to fetch the last of my pizza ingredients, but I made one stop first.

Next to the local Smith's grocery store (where I've been shopping lately, instead of the selection-challenged WalMart market), is an upscale optometrist's office. Most people don't know that I actually *do* wear glasses, mostly because I lost my last pair almost two years ago, and have been too lazy to go make an appointment and get a new set. But my prescription was extremely mild, and I only wore glasses while driving at night or going to concerts, movies, or sporting events when long-distance vision was a premium.

Also, that first year I was here, I didn't have vision insurance anyways, and was in no position to pay cash for an exam and a new set of frames and lenses.

But lately I've noticed that I probably should be wearing glasses. The road signs that I used to be able to read are now a little blurry. And I can tell that my night vision isn't nearly as strong as it once was. Plus I use a computer a whole lot more than I did back in 1991 when I got my first pair of glasses, so I know my vision has suffered. But I really notice at work, while sitting on a dead game in the casino, I can't read the progressive jackpot amounts on slot machines as close as sixty feet away.

So I stopped in there at the eye doctor's office to have a look around and find out what my insurance covered with them, if anything. Unfortunately, almost everything they had were expensive designer frames, so I didn't have high hopes for getting off cheap. But while they were looking up my insurance info, an optometrist came out to help me choose frames. After only about ten minutes of searching, I actually found a good-looking, stylish set that fit on my phat head. And in the meantime, it turned out that my insurance coverage was pretty good, so I'll get a free exam, and the lenses--if it turns out that I don't have a ridiculous or complicated new prescription, will only cost me about $60. And the frames I picked out, normally about $160 retail, actually came out under the wholesale price limit, so I won't have to pay for them either.

I ended up making an appointment for three weeks from now, giving them time to order the frames in my size and color, and they said the lenses will take about a week or ten days after that to come back. So in about a month or so, I'll be sporting some new glasses, making me look even more smart and sophisticated than I already do.


Mikey

I Can Relate...

Mikey

Did I Say Peaceful & Relaxing?

Whoops.

I'd totally forgotten about the maintenance guys coming over today.

It all started on Friday when I got home and there was a post-it note in the left-side kitchen sink from Rob saying not to use that side of the sink because it was leaking underneath. The garbage-disposal side, thankfully, drained just fine with no leaks. No big deal, we could get by with just one side until maintenance came by to fix it.

Both of us pretty much stayed in our separate spaces, snoozing away on Saturday, so we forgot to put in the call. Rob took care of it on Sunday, and left me a note saying that they'd be by to fix it on either Monday or Tuesday since it didn't really classify as an emergency.

Well, the maintenance guy showed up a couple of hours ago and worked on it for about a half an hour, then left to get reinforcements. He came back with another guy, and they brought in stuff like hacksaws, sledgehammers, and torches. At the time, I was trying to watch a little ESPN in the living room, but that proved fruitless once they brought out the big guns.

It seems that the drain pipe was an easy fix, but then they noticed that our cold water had very low pressure. That didn't seem right, so they went to investigate. First they thought it was a clog in the faucet, then maybe a clog in the feed line. Turns out that basically the whole damn sink/pipe/fixtures needed replacing, but the hardware just didn't want to cooperate. So they spent about an hour destroying out kitchen. Seriously--I wish I would've taken pictures--it was an insane amount of work to fix a leaky pipe.

But after busting out all of the offending pieces, they had to replace pretty much everything but the sink shell itself. Luckily that was ok, otherwise the counters would've had to come up, too. And they had the pry-bar sitting there ready to go, I saw it.

Finally, after almost two hours of smashing, hammering, sawing, and numerous other types of noisy destruction, they just finished up a few minutes ago and got the kitchen put back together. So we now have a new faucet, the sink doesn't leak, and we've got plenty of cold water pressure (the hot water was never a problem).

I guess that means I'm free to get back in there and start cookin' again.

Mikey

The Latest Mix

I made myself another 'random' CD the other day, and I'm listening to it right now. And I have to say that I'm fairly impressed with the musical selection--it's downright enjoyable. In case anyone is interested, here are my home-made liner notes:

• Let The Day Begin -- The Call. I have no idea when or where I first heard this song several years ago, but I heard it again a couple of weeks ago at work, wrote it down, and downloaded it as soon as I got home that night. Great tune.
• Sara -- Bill Champlin. Regular readers know of my search for this tune, one of those songs from youth that stick in your memory forever. Thanks to Cici in Florida for helping me rediscover it after all these years, and Tony in Ohio for sending along a copy!
• Hollywood -- Collective Soul. I don't think there's ever been a more underrated band that has put out so many damn good songs (maybe Cheap Trick). Even though it's more closely related to American Idol commercials, it doesn't diminish the fact that it's still a great song.
• Edie Ciao Baby -- The Cult. I absolutely love The Cult. And if I owned a thoroughbred racehorse, I'd name it Edie Ciao Baby.
• The Stripper -- David Rose. This is an old-school instrumental masterpiece that just screams 'Rat Pack'. I remember listening to it on 8-track with my dad as we road-tripped all over Tennessee on his service calls when I was a kid. I've already decided that I'm going to use it as the 'soundtrack' for my YouTube slideshow about March Madness this year. It already made an appearance on the legendary Music for the Rub-n-Tug CD that Derek and I made about seven years ago.
  
• The Wand -- The Flaming Lips. Not the most mainstream song you've ever heard, but if you've seen a Dell computer commercial, you've heard it. It's a great tune, but there's so much going on that if you have it turned up loud, you fool yourself into thinking that either the doorbell or the cellphone is ringing while it's playing.
• Freedom '90 -- George Michael. One of the best videos ever made, and a damn good song. I don't care if he is a 'beautiful gay angel' like Rachel Lucas says, the guy can flat-out sing, no matter what his proclivities are...
• She's A Lady -- Tom Jones. Pretty much the opposite of George Michael. 'Nuff said.
• Family Affairs -- Mary J. Blige. Because sometimes you just feel like getting it crunk.
• Dancing Queen -- ABBA. Probably the greatest bubble-gum pop song ever recorded. And you like it too. Don't even try to deny it.
• Sweet Caroline -- Neil Diamond. A timeless classic. And pretty much everyone at some point has either done a drunken impression of Neil Diamond, or sung along with the cover band at a wedding reception.
• My Guardian Angel -- The Pistoleros. A great band that never got discovered. And even though half the lyrics are in Spanish, the English part delivers--And though I once was rich I know what it is to be hungry, and though I nearly drowned, I know what it is to be thirsty... Good stuff!
• Who Says You Can't Go Home -- Bon Jovi. I don't know why I like this song so much. Runaway was better, but I'm older now.
• Ready To Go -- Republica. Great party song, and who doesn't think of Audrey dancing at the Neon Boneyard whenever you hear it?
• Knock Three Times -- Tony Orlando. This song is starting to make a comeback here in Vegas. I'm hearing it around town more and more.
• Bust A Move -- Young MC. Probably my favorite rap song of all time. And it's full of great advice like Don't hang yourself with a celibate rope.
  
• Ole Ole Ole -- Ricky Martin. Holy shiat--what an absolutely fantastic song! It's all in Spanish, but damn, such an energetic tune.
• Can't Get You Out Of My Head -- Kylie Minogue. Is it a ballad? Is it top-40 fluff? I don't really know, but I like it.
• Gone Away -- The Offspring. I always thought it was a damn good song, but then I listened to the words and realized it's one of the saddest ballads ever written. Probably the best song by a great band with tons of great material.

That's all that would fit on the CD, but I think it's enough to keep me entertained.

Mikey

The Day Off

Man, I just love Tuesdays! I'm sure that's not normal, but then again, neither is my life. My weekend is in the middle of the week, and that's just fine with me. It's rather peaceful and enjoyable being here at the house when all the neighbors are away working. After a wonderful evening at work (more on that later), I came home and crashed, waking up around 8:30 this morning. I didn't get quite enough sleep, but that's ok--I can always nap later if I want to.

Once I crawled out of bed, I called Cyndi, just to touch base and make sure everything was ok with her. Not that I could do much from out here, but just to let her know I was thinking about her.

After that, I decided I was hungry so I dirtied up some dishes in the kitchen making breakfast--hashbrowns and eggs, but for whatever reason, I didn't feel like making coffee today, so I just had a tall glass of cold OJ. Man, that was good.

I don't have a whole lot on the agenda today--maybe head to the grocery store and get the last bit of ingredients for tomorrow's pizza adventure. Otherwise, a little housework and some relaxing is about all I have planned. I *might* go see a movie, but I'm not too sure if there's anything playing that I feel like I must see. I was really interested in seeing Cloverfield, and people have been telling me that it's pretty good, but, they've also said that the whole damn movie was done on a hand-held camera, making it look like a home video taken on the run, and it's pretty annoying. Screw that--I felt that way about the second Jason Bourne movie--it was like sitting through a two-hour long Zapruder film. It just gave me a headache after awhile.

Anyhow...

Work was pretty slow last night--the typical Monday night scene in the casino. But the upside to that was that I got to chat and flirt with my favorite cocktail waitress for a good portion of the evening since we both spent a lot of time doing absolutely nothing. I was out at the far end of the Chinatown pit in no-man's land with no players or floorpeople around, and she had to wander by every time she went back and forth to the service bar behind the sports book.

At one point, I complimented her on her perfume--it was quite tasty--and we got into a discussion about fragrances, so she wrote down a couple of men's colognes for me that she likes. On my next break, I went back to the internet terminals in the 'quiet lounge' next to the employee dining room to see if they sold them on Amazon, and she was back there sitting at one of the computers. So I sat down with her and and ended up offering up my opinion on the unmentionables she was shopping for on the Victoria's Secret website. I don't know how much help I was, since I pretty much liked everything she showed me, but it was easily the most enjoyable 20 minutes of my week. And of course I was completely distracted for the rest of the night, also.

Really knocked me off of my game, too, because later on I mentioned that it was my Friday night, and she asked me where I was going after work. Taking cluelessness to an entirely different level, I started talking about finishing off the bottle of wine I started at lunch. Only later I realized that I got out a half-hour before she did and she probably would've accepted an invitation to sit in the bar and have a drink before going home.

Yes, I am a dumbass.

Once I realized that, coupled with the previous thoughts of her online window shopping for lingerie, I was pretty much done for the night as far as concentration was concerned. Luckily I made it out of there without saying or doing anything embarrassing.

And even worse, once I got home, I didn't even drink the wine...

Mikey

Update on the Fire

Hey everybody--just wanted to say thanks for all the well-wishes that everyone has expressed for Cyndi and Tim in their recent difficulties--I'll pass them along. I spoke to her this morning, and although she's a bit frazzled, everyone is ok and the situation is about as good as it could be after such a life-altering event.

They pretty much lost mostly everything, but the insurance coverage is more than adequate, and all their 'stuff' will be replaced. They're staying with my sister Sherry until they find a suitable place to rent, but the house is going to take several months to get rebuilt. So as big a pain in the ass as this is, it could've been much worse.

Mikey

It's Fun to Stay at the ...

Just another reason to love the internet.

Mikey

Shrooms!

Good news--My pizza pan arrived today! Of course, after my earlier morning updates, I was trying to doze a bit, but the wind is still howling outside and the neighbors nearest my bedroom window have some angry wind chimes, so it wasn't happening. But the doorbell rang, getting me out of bed, and there stood the UPS man with my pizza pan.

Since I had to go to the kitchen anyways...

I decided to go ahead and make those stuffed mushrooms. It was easy--I just took the leftover crab rangoon filling mix, sprinkled in a few tablespoons of grated Parmesan, about a third of a cup of bread crumbs, a small can of chopped mushrooms, a pinch or two of dried chives, seasoned with salt and pepper, and added a little half & half to make it stir-able. (Otherwise, it was like working with mostly-set concrete). Once that was all mixed up, I removed the stems from the Portobellas, then took a spoon and scraped out the 'radiator' underneath, rinsed, and patted them dry.

I put a very generous scoop of the filling mix in each one, topped each with a little bit of Parmesan and bread crumbs on top to give it a nice brown crust, and then drizzled them with olive oil.

Damn, it smelled so good, even before going in the oven.



I put them in the oven for about 20 minutes at 350 degrees, but next time I go with 400 for a little less time, I think (I'm scared of overcooking in that gas oven), but they still turned out really well.

Seriously, after taking the first bite, I think my reaction was Oh My God that's good!



Of course, I had a little bit of ranch dressing on the side, and a bottle of Chardonnay handy to wash them down. But they were damn good. And filling too. There was no way I was going to finish all six of those in one sitting, but I gave it my best effort.

So there are some leftovers in the fridge, but I don't seem them lasting 24 hours.

Mikey

One Thing After Another

Just got off the phone with Mamasan... Bad news on the homefront.

Word is that Cyndi had a house fire today, a pretty bad one. Details are sketchy, but apparently the structure is still standing but the kitchen and first floor is all jacked up, with damage on the second floor, also. As I write this, the insurance people are on the way, and Sherry and her boyfriend Steve are on their way over to help Cyndi and Tim salvage whatever they can.

Damn. This really sucks. The same thing happened to my sister Nancy and her husband Mark around Christmas a couple of years ago and it took them forever to get their house rebuilt. Let's hope it's not that bad this time.

Nobody was home, though, so nobody got hurt, and Jake the dog was out in the backyard at the time, so he's ok, too.

On a lighter note, she also told me a hilarious story about somebody else who had their dentures lifted off the nightstand by one of their cats last night. They finally turned up after an hour of searching, but just picturing a cat running around with a set of somebody else's teef in it's mouth is *almost* as funny as a Dalmatian with a vibrator.

Mikey

Pizza Gonna Wait

Still waiting for the UPS man to show up with my pizza pan today...

Ok, so last night (uh, this morning) after work, I went grocery shopping, thinking I'd get the rest of the stuff I'd need for my culinary masterpieces I've got scheduled for my days off. Unfortunately, I was at the store in the middle of the night, and the service deli was closed--no prosciutto available, and the 'fresh' mozzarella that I saw didn't look too good, either. So I was thinking I'd just go with the 'garbage' six-topping pizza, but then, their selection of tomatoes and tomato sauces at Smith's left something to be desired. Also, since it was the middle of the night, they had pallets and pallets of stuff stacked in the aisles, ready to be stocked, and access to the pepperoni was completely denied, too.

Something seemed to be telling me to wait...

I was also going to make the rest of those crab rangoons today, but somebody, who shall remain nameless, went on a super cleaning spree this weekend and tossed out my saucepan full of cooking oil that was on the stove, thinking it was no longer being used... Well, that, and he wanted to use the pan to make stuffing. No big deal--those rangoons are a huge pain in the ass to make, so I'm not too bummed out about it. So what should I do with all that leftover crab filling?

Well, I got me a package of baby portobella caps and decided to go with stuffed mushrooms. Since the pizza ingredients were denied, I picked up some bread crumbs, a can of mushroom stems and pieces, some grated Parmesan (the real stuff, not that stuff in the green can you sprinkle on spaghetti), and the bane of my existence, dried chives. I looked all over that friggin' store for fresh chives, but they were nowhere to be found, so I had to cough up damn near six bucks in the spice aisle for a jar of freeze-dried ones. I hope they work out ok, or I'm going to be pissed.

So I'm going to take the crab mixture, add a few things to it, and try my hand at stuffed mushrooms. They should be good. Oh, and I fixed the settings on my camera, so hopefully the photo evidence won't turn out blue this time, either.

I've also got all the ingredients lying in wait in the fridge to make a batch of red enchiladas, too. I think that'll be lunch/dinner tomorrow.

Mikey

Ten Things I Don't Give A Rat's Ass About (This Week)

1. The final moments of Heath Ledger. I'm sure he was a fine person and it's a tragedy to those closest to him. But thousands of other people died before their time last week too. Not that we need to examine their last moments also, but damn, let the guy rest in peace.
2. The fire at the Monte Carlo. Unless they come up with some surveillance footage of Gary Loveman playing with matches up on the roof, this is a snoozer for me. So some welders accidentally lit up a bunch of the decorative Styrofoam on the facade of the building--it's not a tragedy, there wasn't much danger, and nobody got hurt. It's not even in the same dame zip code compared to the MGM/Bally's fire back in 1980, so everybody just needs to shut the hell up.
3. The sub-prime mortgage 'crisis'. Shut the hell up people, and read the fine print of the contract you signed. It's nobody's fault but your own that you can't afford the overpriced house you moved into three years ago. Anybody dumb enough to get an A.R.M. deserves what they get.
   
4. The weather in L.A. So, it's not always sunny and warm in January? Who knew? I don't want to hear them bitching about a drought later this summer, either.
   
5. Roger Clemens. I'm to the point where, as far as steroids are concerned, ballplayers are guilty until proven innocent. But then again, some guys juiced up to extend their careers--With such a short window of opportunity to take advantage of making millions of dollars, I can certainly understand why they would do it.
6. Tom Brady's boot/limp/injury/whatever.
7. The Clinton/Obama catfight. Seriously, you think taking on them hillbillies was going to lead to a civil campaign?
8. Tony Romo/Jessica Simpson. You think Joe Willie Namath wasn't out sexing up the ladies during the playoffs??? Of course, Tony Romo is no Joe Namath...
9. Tiger Woods. What? He won another tournament? This is news?
10. The Blu-Ray/HD dvd format war. Wake me whenever there is winner. I'm not buying any high-def equipment until there is a standard format. I don't wanna be the guy stuck with a Beta VCR.

That's about it for now, I think.

Mikey

I Gots Crabs!

Happy Friday everyone!

Well, my day has been interesting so far. First of all, I was up till damn near daybreak--Rob introduced me to the wonders of DTS stereo sound and we were up all night listening to remastered stuff from The Doors, Led Zeppelin, The Band, Simon & Garfunkel, and the best of the lot, The Allman Brothers, Live at the Fillmore East. Now, I've heard all of this music before, and own quite of bit of the regular studio releases, but somehow Rob got hold of a bunch of bootlegged DTS versions and the sound is absolutely amazing. Not one bit of hiss from the old master tapes, and every voice and instrument comes through amazingly clear. Oh, and hearing it in 6.1 surround is a nifty treat for the senses. Total ear candy.

I finally called it a night and got a few hours sleep, but when I woke up, I was hungry. It was time to hit the kitchen!

This was the first time I've made Crab Rangoon in several years, but the recipe is simple. All you need for the filling is --

• About 12 ounces of crab meat
• One brick of Philly cream cheese
• Dash of garlic salt
• Worcestershire sauce
• 1/4 cup of half & half

Once the cream cheese is softened, chop up the crab meat and toss it in the bowl with the cream cheese, add the other ingredients and stir it up until it's well blended and the crab breaks down into tiny pieces.

Then you prepare your wonton wraps, brushing the edges with egg wash. A teaspoon of crab filling goes in the middle, seal the edges (and you can experiment with whatever wonton origami shapes you want--it doesn't matter as long as there is no air in the pocket and it's completely sealed).

Once you have a batch made up, heat up a saucepan with veggie oil on medium heat. (I prefer peanut oil, but all I had on hand was canola). I have no idea what the temp is, but you don't want it too hot--they'll easily burn on the outside. Too cool, and they get greasy. Also, make sure you have enough oil so that you can completely submerge the wontons. Anyhow, just drop four at a time in the hot oil, roll them around with a slotted spoon until they're golden brown, remove, and let them drain on a paper towel.

That's all there is to it.

Now, I took a bunch of pictures of the entire process from beginning to end, but for whatever reason, I had the camera set on something like blue sepiatone, so they all turned out looking like I was cooking in an aquarium. The final picture however, turned out somewhat usable.



The first batch made about 16 snacks, and I've got a bunch of leftover filling mix and half of my wonton wraps. I also made a pretty good dipping sauce out of apricot preserves, Dijon mustard, and a splash of honey. It was tasty, but needed a little more zip. Maybe next time I'll hit it with some full-strength horseradish and some freshly grated ginger. But it was still pretty damn good.

Oh, and on the pizza front--remember how I ordered the pizza pan from Amazon late Wednesday night after I went to bed? Well, I also put added a DVD to my order to get it over that $25 threshold for free Super Saver shipping, figuring it would take at least a week or so. Well, less than 12 hours after I placed my order, they emailed me saying that my pizza pan had already shipped out. Woot! Maybe next Wednesday night I'll be dining on home made deep-dish caramelized onion and prosciutto pizza. If the DVD gets here at the same time, I'll be watching L.A. Confidential while feasting on my culinary masterpiece, too.

Mikey

A Field Trip to Trader Joe's

First of all, let me say that I'm mildly surprised at the traffic pattern on the website today. It's not even 1:00 pm yet, and I've already had about 350 hits. That's not surprising, but what is interesting is that I've put up three different topics in the past 14 hours--

1) Pizza

2) Casino Freak

3) Gambling with Angy

--and the only one seeming to generate any interest whatsoever, as far as comments are concerned, is the couple of paragraphs about pizza. Clearly, my audience is far more interested in food than they are about life in Vegas.

Who knew?

Anyhow... For whatever reason, I was wide awake at 6:30 this morning, unable to sleep after just four hours or so in the sack. So I made a pot of coffee and spent a few hours websurfing and whatnot. Finally, around 9:30 or so, I decided to get up off my kiester and do something. Remember, both my bedroom and bathroom needed attention, plus the laundry monster is calling my name, too. So yeah, I did one load of laundry, wrote out a shopping list, burned a cd, took a shower, and headed out.

Last night, when I was coming home from Target, I saw that Trader Joe's over on Eastern that until then I had no idea was there, so that was to be my first stop this morning. The main objective in this particular hunting and gathering mission was to find pre-made pizza dough. Word around the campfire is that it was available at T.J.'s.

So I grabbed a basket and headed inside. I haven't shopped in a Trader Joe's since, oh, 1999 or so, back when times were good and money was plentiful. So it was almost like a new experience to be in there. First of all, I noticed that I was probably the only Republican in the joint, especially when it came to the employees. I also noticed a shift in the offerings they sold--it seems that they used to sell a lot of different brands of hard-to-find unique foods, and now all they have is Trader Joe's brand organic goods. And who knows how the quality stacks up versus the groceries I usually buy. So I was a little put off by that. However, you gotta give props to a store that dedicates a good 20% of it's floor space to wine and beer!

Anyhow, I wandered around that place for a good half hour looking for pizza dough, and thought I was gonna come up empty. Hell, they only have six aisles, how hard can it be? Well, I finally found it in the ready-made lunch and sandwich section next to the meat and seafood. It was well hidden, tucked away on the bottom shelf in a basket. But they had one-pound bags for 99-cents apiece, so I grabbed four of them. Once that task was accomplished, I felt like I was free to browse.

My next purchase was a big bottle of low-sodium soy sauce, just because I feel an Asian cooking binge coming on, and I had nothing to season my rice with. I've always thought regular soy sauce was way too salty, anyways, so I grabbed a bottle. I also spent about eight bucks on a big bottle of high-quality extra-virgin olive oil. Again, I had none, and will need it when pizza time rolls around. Lastly, I grabbed a bag of frozen chicken fried rice, taking the easy way out when it comes to accompanying my crab rangoon.

While I was browsing, they had their tasting station set up in back with fried calamari rings and four different dipping sauces. Once my shopping chores were done, I finally stopped to have a sample. The squid was ok, but it had cooled off. Instead of the regular cocktail sauce, I tried their featured sweet and sour.

Yuck.

Room temperature fish with sauce that belongs on poultry was not a good combination at all. Of course, after that, I had that nasty fish taste in my mouth, and didn't have any gum or mints on me. But it was time to go anyways. While I was waiting in the checkout line, I made an impulse buy. I justified it by saying that the fishy taste in my mouth was the reason, but basically, it just looked too damn good to pass up.

It was a bar of Ritter Sport Dark Chocolate with Whole Hazelnuts.

Oh. Hell. Yeah.

I couldn't resist it's siren song, and it found it's way into my cart. And as soon as I got back in my truck, it found it's way out of the bag and into my mouth. Now, I don't eat much candy anymore--hell, I haven't had anything that could even be considered candy since Mamasan's peanut butter balls at Christmas, but damn, this is good stuff! (I'm just now finishing off the last piece as I type this!) Oh, and it tastes way better than that calamari.

Once I got done at Trader Joe's, I headed back over to Smith's to get a few more items on my shopping list. I needed some half & half, but I also picked up all the ingredients to make beef enchiladas and Spanish rice, too, along with a pastry brush and a few things I'd forgotten on my Tuesday morning shopping trip.

After I got home, I was finished--I got all the groceries put away and I was just too tired to hang around in the kitchen cooking, so my culinary adventures will have to wait one more day. I was thinking of indulging in a little Grimaldi's for lunch (hey--it's been almost two weeks!), and I even called Lars Vargas to see if he wanted to join me. But he had to decline, as he's feeling under the weather this week and wouldn't enjoy it as much as he'd like. So we made plans to do it next week, instead.

Once I hung up the phone, I lost all motivation to cook or eat. I'm just too tired from the lack of sleep last night, and the ol' clock on the wall is telling me that I have only about four hours before I have to get ready for work. So, I'm taking the afternoon off from all further chores or cooking, and I'm going to try and get a nap in before I spend the entire night in the casino.

Peace out, y'all.

Mikey

Serious Pizza, Serious Questions

Ok gang, since apparently it's impossible to buy a deep dish purpose-built pizza pan anywhere in the 702 area code, I went ahead and ordered one from Amazon. Hopefully it should be here next week sometime. And I also discovered, tonight, that we have a Trader Joe's close by on Eastern and St. Rose Parkway--I'd thought the closest one was down on Sunset and Green Valley. But since the grocery stores around here don't carry the pre-made dough, I can get some at TJ's.

But now I've got questions for those of you who have actually assembled a Chicago-style pizza. I know that I'm supposed to par-bake the crust for about ten minutes before I add any of the toppings. No big deal. But what I don't know for sure is if I need to cook the sausage down in a skillet before I assemble the pizza. On TV shows that feature deep-dish pizzas, they always show them putting the meat in raw--some places even roll the raw sausage out like dough and lay it all in one layer over the cheese, like a big ol' pork manhole cover.

Is this the right thing to do? My gut tells me that it would make the pizza way too greasy if I did that. But then again, I don't think I want to cook off all the meat, then bake it for 45 minutes more, because I think it would be pretty dry if I did that. Anybody have any experience with this? I'm thinking that I should do a quick 'half' cook on the raw sausage, losing some of the grease, but retaining a bunch of the moisture, but I've never heard of anyone doing that, either.

Suggestions would be appreciated.

Now, being a NY-style thin-crust aficionado, I am of the opinion that the perfect pizza only has two toppings besides the cheese and sauce--One meat and one vegetable. One salty, one sweet. Yin and Yang, the chi of the pizza, if you will.

However--

Since the deep dish style (where my experience is limited at best) is more like a casserole, wouldn't it be more conducive to making a 'garbage' pizza? I'm thinking of sausage, pepperoni, onions, peppers, mushrooms, black olives, and of course, cheese. Oh, I'm definitely going to make my two-topping masterpieces that I've talked about before, prosciutto and caramelized onion, and sausage and black olive, but I think the first one should probably include everything but the kitchen sink.

Besides, even if I fark it all up, bad pizza is still pretty good, right?

Mikey

His Name Is "Dick"!

Working in a casino, I've learned that a dealer's favorite pastime is to bitch. Either about management or about the customers. It really doesn't matter which--either one is a perfect target for a dealer's ire.

And since my roommate is also a dealer, and happens to work in the same casino as I do (although on a different shift), we love to bitch about the "fleas" that we both encounter. The unbelievable thing is that a lot of these fleas put in more time at the tables than we do. Heck, I only work eight hours a day, as does Rob, but some of these people easily spend 16 hours or more a day, almost every day, gambling away every dime that they have. Some can afford it, most can't. And it's easy to tell who can't. Equally easy to spot are the players that don't have any friends or family, hobbies or outside activities. Going to the casino is all they've got.

Since I work in a locals casino, and I usually deal Pai Gow, I have a lot of "regular" players that I see almost every day, or at least once or twice a week. Most of them are very nice, decent tippers, and easy to deal with. But believe me, I have my share of losers. I've talked about them at length, too. But one of the reasons I like dealing Pai Gow so much is that the players don't bitch all the time. It's a nice relaxing game, and unless you're just having some sorry-assed luck, you're not gonna go broke, or at least not go broke very fast.

Blackjack, on the other hand, is full of whiners and degenerates, crybabies and assholes. Granted, a majority of players are decent and are there just to have a good time, but there is a very vocal minority of players who ruin it for everyone.

There's one guy in particular who I've encountered a bunch lately that is really starting to get on my nerves. And Rob sees him on his shift too. The dealers hate this guy, as do the floor people. But it's bad when the players in the casino see this guy coming and start to mumble and groan, hoping he doesn't sit down at the table.

First of all, lets talk about his appearance. He's tall and lanky, and has that creepy undertaker appearance to him. He's got a badly receded, hairline (the 'toilet bowl' haircut), dorky silver-rimmed thick square glasses, and bad hygiene. At first glance, he seems like the kind of guy who drives a white serial-killer van and hangs out at the junior high, trying to pass out candy. Hell, he's such an oddball that all the dealers on day shift simply refer to him as 'Creepy Carl'

But that's not the worst--weird looking slobs are a dime a dozen in the casino business. The worst thing about him is the way he plays.

First of all, he lurks around, waiting for a dead table to get some players. As soon as the table gets going and there's a nice enjoyable fun vibe going on, he walks up and sits down, ruining it. Not only does he play like a jackass, standing on thirteens and fourteens against a dealer's ten-card, but he splits things he shouldn't and hits his twelves against a dealer's stiff card. Of course, he screws up the flow of the cards for everyone else, pissing them off.

Not only that, it takes him forever to make up his mind on if he wants a hit (especially bad on a double deck pitch game). It's like he can't add or something. Eventually, he chases away all of the other players. It really sucks because a lot of times, if the table is fun and has a good vibe, those other players are good tippers, and he just kills the action. And of course he never tips--he's a loser.

It's gotten to the point that I don't care whatsoever how rude I am to him now. Of course, I can't be blatant, but he *knows* I can't stand him and I bag on him all the time. If he's taking forever to make a decision, or screwing up the cards, I call him out--

What, you can't add an Ace and a four without a calculator?

What the hell's the hold up? You have an eighteen against my seven.

Dude, are your trying out for the Special Olympics blackjack team?

The funny thing is, we just found out that his real name is Dick--it says so on his player's card. So after a particularly stupid play, I like to use his name (the bosses always want us to use the player's first name, and I'm all about providing good customer service)--

Nice going, Dick. If you would've take a card like you were supposed to, I would've busted. Instead you caused everyone else to lose!

I do whatever I can to chase him away. But he'll either stay until he's broke or everyone else leaves, whichever comes first. Once the other players are gone, he'll color up too, and move on to the next table of victims. He won't play by himself--he insists on killing every table he goes to.

One night, he showed up and killed my table, and after everyone colored up, he did the same. As soon as he left, the other players sat back down again. He immediately came back asking for change. Everybody groaned, and since there was no floorperson within earshot, I just said Sorry dude, I just colored you up, surveillance won't allow me to take those checks back on the same table--you have to play at a different table before you can come back to this one.

He fell for it and walked off, and everyone else thanked me. Heh.

It seems that lately, after every shift, both Rob and I have stories about the guy--he plays at least three nights a week, and when he does, he plays until he goes broke. Sometimes that takes twelve hours or more. But he obviously doesn't have any friends or hobbies--he's a social retard--so the casino is the extent of his social life. That really sucks for those of us who have to put up with him. We're kinda wishing that he'd discover strippers or something like that, instead.

It doesn't matter, though. If he leaves, there will be another one to take his place the very next day. I can almost guarantee it.

Mikey

Tuesdays With Angy

Man oh man, my weekend has just flown by! Here it is late on Wednesday night and I feel like these past couple of days were over in the blink of an eye.

First of all, after getting home from work late on Monday night, I just went straight to bed, exhausted after a long week of casino life. For whatever reason, I woke up at 8:00 am on Tuesday morning, unable to go back to sleep, even though I tried for about a half hour. Instead of fighting it, I got up and made a pot of coffee.

I sat down in front of the TV to watch the previous night's SportsCenter reruns, but since the Super Bowl is featuring two teams I don't much care for, I'm just not interested in the hype. Oh, and NBA and hockey coverage? Yeah, I'm all over that... After a couple of cups of coffee and half hour of channel surfing, I decided I better get moving and run some errands. The first thing I did was wander down to the mailbox and find that a check I'd been expecting for about a month had finally arrived over the weekend, which was just about perfect timing since my paycheck was about $400 lighter than usual last Friday.

Armed with a few bucks and a shopping list, I headed out to fill up my gas tank, buy some stamps, deposit the check, and hit the grocery store. I accomplished everything, and short of going to the post office--which is located in the other direction from where I was heading--there seems to be a sudden stamp shortage here in Henderson. Every place I went that purported to sell postage stamps (three stops) were sold out. Hmmm.

But I made it to the grocery store, and besides getting a few essentials like coffee, milk, eggs, etc., I picked up the ingredients to finally make that crab rangoon I've been talking about for the past couple of weeks. Oh, except for the half & half, which I realized as soon as I got home--so I'll be going back in the morning. I also wanted to do the stuffed mushrooms, but the fungi selection was a little lacking--nothing but huge portobellos or just the small button mushrooms. Nothing in between. I'll look again in the morning. While out shopping, I rewarded myself by spending a few bucks on a hunk of good Danish Havarti cheese with herbs. That is some good stuff with crackers, fruit, and white wine...

Once I got home, I puttered around the house for a bit, and around noon or so I got a text message from Angy, telling me that she Doc Al'd the ice bucket in her hotel room. Most of you know what that means. Those that don't, well, never mind. Just take my advice and never use the ice bucket in your hotel room. Trust me on this...

I called her back, and we made plans to meet up an hour and a half later at Harrah's for a day of buffoonery. So I took a shower and got dressed, and then spent waaaay too much time trying to pay bills online, since stamps seem to be as rare as the animal McRibs come from. The problem with doing that is that all of the utility companies don't want one-time payments online--they want to control it and have access to your bank account every month. I don't like that. First of all, I don't want automatic payments coming out, just in case of emergencies--if I'm short on cash, I like to have the flexibility to send a check in a few days later. This is especially true now that I'm no longer a salary man. Back in the office days when my pay never varied from week to week, I set up everything on automatic payment just because I knew the money would always be there. Nowadays, my paycheck can take wild swings every month depending on the economy or like with last week, illness.

Anyhow, I gave up on the online bill-pay mess, and headed for the Strip. I was running a bit late, and as luck would have it, I got pulled over by a Metro cop right there at the corner of Spring Mountain and the Strip. To complicate things further, when I gave him my insurance card, it had expired a week ago. The new one is sitting on my desk, still unopened. But he ran my license, gave me a verbal warning, and said he was looking for bigger fish to fry anyways. It was the second quickest traffic stop I've ever had, having been pulled over here in Vegas three times since I've been living here.

A few minutes later, I was shuffling through the Evil Empire when Angy flagged me down from her slot machine. It was nice to see her again, and we spent a few minutes catching up while her credits were slowly disappearing. The first order of business was to hit Starbucks--she wanted another strawberry concoction that she'd just finished off, and I was in the mood for a caramel mochaccino. Since we were already halfway to the Imperial Palace by that time, we decided to finish the journey and go play over there.

Our first stop was sitting in the dealer-tainer pit playing Rapid Roulette while Dolly Parton spun the ball for us. We did ok--I actually made ten bucks, but not once did we see a cocktail waitress. We cashed out as soon as 'Gloria Estefan' took the stage--it was a bit loud and there weren't enough people around to make it fun, so we left.

We wandered a bit before settling on an empty 8-deck shoe game in the Champagne pit. Of course, as soon as we sat down, three other mopes decided to join us. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but I hate it whenever we sit down at an empty blackjack table and it immediately fills up. I guess it's because being a dealer, I see so many dumbass players who have no clue about basic strategy that I just assume everyone is going to play like a dipshiat and piss me off. But I was wrong--everyone played pretty well, and we spent an hour or so making a few bucks. However, we had the slowest dealer in captivity. It took him an entire hour to get through the shoe (just for comparison sake, I get through four six-deck shoes in an hour when I'm dealing blackjack, meaning that I deal roughly three times faster than this old codger did). Not only that, but the entire time, Angy and I only got one blackjack each. How do I know this? Because they give you a strand of Mardi Gras beads whenever you get a blackjack. Both of us had one strand of beads when we colored up (didn't want to sit there for the fifteen minutes it was going to take him to shuffle).

After blackjack, Angy told me that she wanted to hit the dice table. I was shocked because she *never* plays craps. In the three years that I've known her, and all those dozens of times we've gambled together, we played craps together a grand total of once--that was at the Orleans and she spent most of the time in the bathroom anyways. But she said she played some this weekend and really liked it, so she wanted to do it again.

We muscled our way into a $5 game, and bought in for a hundred each. The table was kind of a grind, slowly eating away at our bankroll for about a half an hour. When the dice finally made it back to our side of the table, the guy at the end had a decent roll going, but the dealers and boxman were just going out of their way to be dicks to him, telling him that he can't rub the dice on the felt before he throws them (90% of players do this) and also telling him that he couldn't hit the side wall of the table, that the dice had to hit the far end first. Everybody at the table was like What the ... ???

It's like they were trying to avoid getting tipped, because as soon as they started acting like that, all the dealer bets dried up.

By the time I got the dice, I was down to my last twenty bucks or so. I had to borrow four red chips from Angy just so I could place the inside points. Luckily, I had a decent roll and earned back about $40 before sevening out. Then Angy got the dice and went on a huge roll. Everybody was making money, and she kept hitting the numbers for me. I went from $40 to up over $130 before I looked over my shoulder and saw Dave, her husband, walk up. So just as she's throwing the dice again, he said Hey, I didn't know you played dice--you never play craps!

Bam. Seven out.

Of course, nobody at the table was happy about that, least of all Angy. Of course, being the smartass that I am, I said Everyone--this here is Dave--Say hello Dave! Everyone else just kind of grumbled, and Angy gave him The Look, so he retreated back towards Harrah's.

I figured that we probably weren't going to do much better, so we colored up. I was up $120 for the day, after the boxman finally figured out the right amount to pay me, and I believe Angy made about a hundred bucks, too.

After a potty stop and a wander around the casino, we just found a couple of seats at the bar to chill for about an hour, have a cocktail, smoke, and play some video poker. We didn't win any money, but we had a nice mellow visit, catching up on all the latest gossip and news. We decided that we were pretty hungry and wanted some dinner, so back to Harrah's we went, so Angy could check in with Dave. He was up at Toby Keith's, but the rest of his crew was busy getting drunk, so he wanted to ditch them and come eat with us. We decided to go back downstairs and have Chinese at Ming's Table.

We were seated immediately and started scoping out the menu. Of course, we had to get the Crab Rangoon (two orders!) and some spring rolls for appetizers. I also had a damn good raspberry iced tea filled with lots of real fruit. For the main courses, we each got some sort of seafood dish--I opted for the shrimp and scallop Kung Pao.

The appetizers were good, but way overpriced for what we got--four pieces for about $8 per order. And my Rangoons are much better, anyways. But the main courses were generous portions, each served with a big bowl of white rice. Mine was delicious, nice and spicy, with plenty of shrimp and scallops. As good as it was, I couldn't finish it.

Dave insisted on picking up the tab, saying he owed me for all the times I've taken Angy to and from the airport in the past three years, so even though I was flush with house money, I wasn't allowed to spend any on dinner. So I have no idea what the tab was, but the entrees were about $16 bucks apiece. Not too bad, and the food was good.

That's about the only good thing I have to say about Harrah's--because after dinner, we sat down at a $10 six-deck shoe to play some blackjack, and after about ten or fifteen minutes, we realized that it was a 6:5 game. On a six deck shoe! And there was no signage anywhere on the table indicating that we were sitting at a ripoff game. I guess that's just the normal way of doing business there, like the tourists should be expected to get ripped off. As soon as I realized it, I told Angy and we all colored up. Of course, she had won every hand since we sat down, so she was up almost a hundred bucks, I think. I was actually up $25, but I didn't want to stick around and pay the freight on a game like that, so we left.

We made our way back to the Imperial Palace to try our hand at craps again, and eventually we squeezed into a table. I got crushed there, but Angy had another decent roll to bring me back to even.

It was getting late, and I could tell that both her and Dave were getting pretty tired. So we said goodnight and made plans to get together around noon so that we could maybe get a bite to eat before I took her back to the airport.

Since I had lost all of my winnings at the dice table, I decided to give Pai Gow a try before calling it a night. I took a seat at a $10 game, dealt by another awful dealer, but at least I was winning. Another downer was the guy sitting next to me. Just having a conversation with him, it turns out that he was a dealer at the Wynn, and since Vegas is such a small town, we found out that we had a lot of mutual friends and acquaintances. He seemed like a nice enough guy at first, but when he found out that I was a dealer, he spent the rest of the night proselytizing me about how I should join the union.

Whatever, dude. Just because your boss is a dick, it doesn't mean that mine is... He finally shut up about it when he got the message that he wasn't going to convert me.

Anyhow, I benefited from the bad dealer and the bad floorperson--twice I had hands that should've lost but the dealer pushed it. The first time I didn't even realize it--I was busy talking to the cocktail waitress after seeing the dealer turn up her hand and finding out that my hand was a loser. But then when I turned back around to the table, my bet was still up and the dealer was passing out the cards for the next hand.

Alrighty then!

About twenty minutes later, I had a ten-high flush with a six-four on top, and the dealer turned over an Ace-high flush with a pair of deuces on top. I even said You gotta be shittin' me, Pyle! when I saw it, complaining out loud that my flush was beaten.

But when she tapped the table for a push, and the floor person even said "Hey, that's a push!" at the same time, I didn't argue.

That saved me $25, but my main beef with the dealers there at the I.P. is the same one I have with a bunch of the dumbass dealers on my crew--If a player is tipping you almost every hand with singles, you gotta make sure that the player never runs out of $1 chips! Instead of taking the commission out of my payout, these stupid dealers would keep asking me for a buck. I finally asked them how they ever expected to earn a tip if they kept taking my tip money from me. They didn't have an answer for that.

Seriously, I can't believe how dumb some dealers are. It's the same at dice or blackjack. If the guy is playing green action, but tipping you with $5 red chips, you make sure that the player always has a supply of red chips. There's no excuse for the guy to run out!

With the surly attitudes of the dice crew, the slow, plodding blackjack dealer who took two minutes every time somebody wanted change, and the incompetence on the Pai Gow tables, I'm surprised that the dealers at the Imperial Palace make $50 a day in tokes--they were just awful.

Finally, around 11:00 pm or so, I'd made back all of my previous winnings, and I was up $130 for the day, so I colored up for the last time. I was home in bed checking my email around midnight when I heard Falcon Rob come stumbling in. I hadn't really talked to him for a couple of days, so I got up and went back out to the living room where we did some catching up--he'd spent his evening out at the El Dorado, drinking free beer and playing $5 Pai Gow with some of his buddies.

Since we'd both worked pretty much every day for the previous week, we had about seven or eight episodes of Jeopardy sitting on the DVR, waiting for us. So, as tired as I was, we stayed up until almost 4:00 am having a Jeopardy marathon.

I finally hit the bed, hard, not waking up till almost noon. I still had errands to do, but was feeling lazy. And I called Angy, and it turned out that her flight was much earlier than she remembered, so I didn't have to take her to the airport, Dave was available. That was cool--as much as I would've liked to see her again, I didn't really want to drive back down to the Strip. And she'll be here for a whole week again in March, anyways.

I just hung out here at the house, made a tray of pizza rolls for lunch, and watched a bit of TV. But I just couldn't keep my eyes open, so I went back to bed and took a nap. Once I got up, I got dressed and headed out. I forgot about getting stamps, but I went to Target instead. I needed a bunch of household stuff, so I spent $121 of my $130 in casino winnings on stuff like razor blades, trash bags, dishwasher soap, toothpaste, and dryer sheets. Oh, and I also got me a new cocktail shaker--this one with a lid that you can actually remove! I also went on a hunt for a 14" deep-dish pizza pan, but it proved to be as elusive as postage stamps. I guess I'll just hit Amazon after I post this and have one shipped.

So that's pretty much it for my weekend. Tomorrow is going to consist of a thorough bathroom and bedroom cleaning, laundry, writing, and banging around in the kitchen. Then it's back to the casino for more Pai Gow. But this time I'll be on the other side of the table, not sipping on a Captain and Coke with a goofy blond sitting next to me, making me laugh.

Mikey

Nowhere Near a Keyboard

Hey gang-- sorry for the lack of updates since Monday, but yesterday I was gone all day, not getting home until midnight, then I was up till four am.

It's noon here, and I just got up. I've got a couple of things to do still today, but I have a couple of decent posts to put up as soon as I can find the time--maybe later tonight, or early tomorrow. I know, the pickin's are kinda slim right now, but the dam is about to burst and very soon you'll have so much reading material that if you printed it out, you won't come out of the bathroom all day long.

Hope it's all worth the wait.

Mikey