For today, it will be a quick visit to Rio, in my case. I had come to cover Michaël Sebban in day 2 of the $ 2,500 No Limit Hold'em, but he jumped after half an hour of play: it has committed all of its chips in a shot where he was favored 70% time, but the poker gods decided it would be a favorite again.
If you read my post yesterday, you probably remember that I had as a project to enjoy the pool at Bally's this morning before returning to work at the Rio in the afternoon. But between the time I wrote this and when I went to Bally's, an impromptu occurred: my friend Kinshu showed his nose pointed in the Amazon Room. He left Paris to come cover the WSOP Main Event ClubPoker and, after a journey that he himself probably tell by way of preamble, he eventually landed on the platform release of Rio. It was a moment that we had not seen was so drunk a-many-drinks at Bar Rio, until the day dawns.
Our discussion has naturally led to discuss the mess caused by the opening of the French market in online poker and heresies of the Arjel, and all that that implies (due to increased rake the 2% tax imposed by the state, but also due to the greed of poker-rooms, restricting online field since the French can not now play between them) and I realized during this conversation that we all live far away, seen here: it traverses the internet forums, we follow the articles about the discontent of the French players, wills to boycott cash tables
... The French are by nature rather grumpy - just to see how the month of September are invariably plagued by strikes of any kind, that God made each year - I did not panic over it, reading every article published here or there . Yet it is clear that the hexagon undergoes a mini-revolution pokeristique now. And we did not even view the rest of us exiles at 9.630 km away, fools we are.
Kinshu came with Gab-x, which will be responsible for coverage for Club Video Poker, and I met for the first time last night. After a while, the conversation inevitably drifted ass: we were the guys, a drink in hand, in the middle of Sin City, the city par excellence where strip clubs are kings . Moreover, these two came at just the right moment: a Friday evening, there is no better for wildlife viewing Vegassiennes bombs that invade the Strip casinos and bars in the Margarita by injecting intra-venous, eventually leading to excessive wobbling on their heels towards the elevator that finally bring back to their room. I swear there is something to laugh. You're never
who came to Las Vegas, must realize one thing: Americans who come here on weekends regard their stay as a sort of Spring Break fast: the absorption of alcohol is done in astronomical doses, and if the side unbridled sex is played behind closed doors and not on a Mexican beach, it is indeed present. The legend that the beautiful wakes up in a hotel room with a ring on his finger and an unknown slumped at his side is not so fanciful as that: it must have happened hundreds or thousands of times here.
In Las Vegas, you can get married under the auspices of Elvis Presley, either by helicopter or by Drive-In (without leaving his car, as in McDonald, true) for busy people.
For a price ranging between $ 300 and $ 500 you can purchase a "package marriage," including the use of the chapel, the remuneration of the officiating, and paperwork. This opens the door to all sorts of fantasies: we're drunk, you have only to marry, it will be fun, lollilol, burp.
Fortunately, some couples come to Las Vegas to marry really out of love to celebrate their union with family and friends, thus achieving a kind of dream. In the same chapel as the pseudo-alcoholic couples mentioned above, which are legion chapels in Las Vegas. This should balance things, I guess.
Kinshu, Gab-X and I ended up we piled into a taxi at 5:30 in the morning. They left me in front of Bally's, where I met James. He had had a drink too, and we managed to have a discussion of pseudo-drunk guys for almost half an hour before we collapse.
I programmed my alarm clock at noon to enjoy the pool at Bally's for an hour or two before returning to Rio, but I finally preferred the softness of my pillow at the prospect of comatose on a plastic deck chair.
It is 17:30 and I'm about to go to Bally's: the only player that I watched today was blown - after his last text message, it is MGM, the sight of David Copperfield. The only reason that pushes me to stay: Ludovic Lacay is chip-leader Tournament Pot Limit Omaha $ 10,000 buy-in, and there are only 25 players. The day will be long, since they will only stop when a winner - it could end early morning or later. I asked Harper to me a text message when the final table will be close, I would come back to watch it. The prospect of a second WSOP bracelet French - and especially the last chance for this summer before the main event - the tournament is an event inevitable.
Ludovic "SirCuts" Lacay in the $ 10,000 PLO
Meanwhile, I'm not sure what I'll do. Pool? Why not, I really want to immerse myself in a good book, lying on a deckchair. Cash game? Yeah, I made a single sale here, loser. Shopping? No, not courage. I would go to the Outlet center again. By cons, it is possible that I do a little tour through the Mall at Caesar Palace. I'll tell it tomorrow.
EDIT: I just received a message from Caro on Skype, which essentially says " BBQ at the villa tonight vien s"
Ok, I'm coming.
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