With the cards I caught, this guy didn't have a chance.









For those of you who are screenshot averse, that's two boats, a straight flush, and a royal flush (flopped) in ten hands.

There are myriad reasons for my triumphant return to the blogging circle.

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First, I had a bet with myself that JoeSpeaker would put up a post before me. I win.

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The second reason is a little more difficult to explain. You see, The Rooster was very bothered by the lowering of my page rank. So he stopped sending me the monthly payment for the link in my blogroll. I temporarily removed his link and stopped posting. I gots mouths to feed you know. But we've worked it out - I've received a check. And now The Rooster is linked up again. And will be linked up going forward.

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A third reason is that I've been out B-listed by Mrs DP. A few shops are throwing her a party this evening in downtown Chicago. Booze, clothing, and the ladies of the Junior League. If Grubby shows up I'll have to start a card game. It would be heaven. Third Coast Preppy and I are going to rule the Internet. We're renaming our son "Web 2.0."

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And I've seen a lot of my online friends lately. Maigrey, BG, Grubby and I enjoyed an Italian feast in Old Town. This was followed by a few hours of Rock Band. My best performance was squealing Cherub Rock. Sorry about not using my inside voice!

Last week I met up with April and two of her friends. A dude who likes dudes and a chick who likes chicks. That always makes for great conversation. Don't forget, "Up and in with a curl." Don Draper knows what I'm talking about.

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Grubby has already posted about our trip to the new Horseshoe Casino, Hammond, Indiana. We went to the boats together, but I only saw him twice in the seven hours or so we were there. And one of those times was at 3:30AM to leave.

The casino is a beauty. Very Vegas-like in its open layout. And the poker room is gorgeous. It reminds me of the Venetian poker room. It has nice wood walls and a very clubhouse like feel.

While waiting for my table I ran into Maigrey and Jason. I was waiting for a $5/$10 LO8 spot to open up. My wait was no more than five minutes.

The game was full kill if the pot was scooped with more than $50. For the two hours the game played like a $10/$20 game - lots of scoops. It was a very beatable $10/$20 game. When Grubby stopped by I was up a good chunk. Then I started missing flops - and even worse, my big draws. But I kept playing. Why? Because the US-Spain gold medal game was on.

About an hour before I left the floorman came up to me.

Floorman: "Sir, can you come with me please? I'd like to speak with you."
Me: "Sure. What's up?" I thought he was going to give me a comp or upgrade my Harrah's status.
Floorman: "Can I see your ID?"
Me: "Here ya go." I thought he was going to give me a comp or upgrade my Harrah's status.
Floorman: "Sir, there have been a few complaints about you."
Me: "What?" I thought it might have been the angle-shooting bastard at the craps table who kept claiming that my come bet was his. Each time the pit boss sided with me and told him to cut it out. After the last time he did it I screamed some expletives at him.
Floorman: "You know Maigrey?"
Me: "That bitch!"

It's three hours until the launch party. Gotta figure out what shirt to wear with the seersucker pants.

I'm the donkeypuncher and The Rooster approves of this message.

The real fishing report will be posted at Drunken Anglers. But I wanted to share a few things that might interest you guys.

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Our first stop was around 10PM Friday night. The main target that stop was the mutton snapper. Unfortunately the current was really strong, resulting in tangles. Even worse there wasn't much action.

There was a kid to my right, maybe 15 years old. He was on the trip with his dad. And the little fucker got the first hit of the night. His rod tip bent and he started reeling his fish in. The entire time he was talking trash to his dad.

"There it is dad! My first mutton of the trip!"
"Hell, this might even be a tuna!"
"I'm gonna dominate you this trip. Can you FEEL the domination?"

His fish came near the surface and we could see its white flesh.

It was a three and half foot long shark. Not something we were allowed, nor did we desire to keep. The poor kid's disappointment was written all over his face.

On the trip back on Sunday Tyrese and I sat with the kid.

I said, "You know, one of the highlights of this trip was you talking smack with your dad."

Tyrese pointed at him and yelled, "CAN YOU FEEL THE DOMINATION?!?!?!!"

His face turned red and he jumped off the boat. (That second part didn't really happen.)

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There was one guy at that first stop who was positioned five feet to my right. He immediately tangled lines with my brother. I thought for sure he would be my least favorite fishing neighbor.

Boy was I wrong!

He was initially referred to as the Old Man or Pops. Probably at least seventy years old, and on the trip by himself, everyone gave him very little credit.


On Saturday morning, several guys said, "Holy shit! Did the old man catch that?"

After a half hour long fight, the old man landed the boat's first tuna of the trip.


He was a fishing machine. Every time I was fishing so was he. I don't know if he ever slept. It was shortly after the landed tuna that I began calling him "Santiago."


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The biggest fish of the trip was the ~350-400 pound Jewfish:


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Short shark video:

My brother and I are spending the next 48 hours on a fishing boat. It's going to be like the Deadliest Catch. Almost nonstop fishing, with occasional naps while the boat moves to another spot.

One hour until we leave Key West...