Well, my latest nine night Vegas excursion is coming to an end, and wow...so many crappy (yet hilarious) things happened in the last 48 hours, that I have to let you guys know about them.

First off, Michael Jordan was just some old white guy who should be forced to change his name...I mean, come on. If you're going to be named Michael Jordan, you're not allowed to play golf, in an invite only high roller casino golf tournament and still use your name. I mean, it's like the reverse of Michael Bolton in Office Space.

My first round was best ball scramble style with my first foursome made up of a young bomber who was a really nice guy, and two other middle aged gentlemen who were very fun to play golf with. The bomber kid could hit the ball about 320 yards in the fairway consistently, totally amazing to watch. Everyone in our group had a great time and even though we didn't finish in the top 3 to take any prizes, I had a really great time.

Today was a completely different story. Our group was made up of a southern gentleman who could really play well and was generally fun to be around. An Asian man who was also very nice and also a good golfer. But completing our foursome was a man from Brookline, Mass named Steve Koplow who can only be described as Peter Griffin from Family Guy come to life...except he had a mustache. This ass clown made my day a living hell as I had to ride along with him in my cart. I should honestly devote an entire blog to the various shenanigans involving this guy, but I'll give you the lowlights here.

Naaaaa, #@!$ that, I need to vent!

First, after everyone's introductions (name, location, occupation) he proceeds to tell me that he fancies himself a poker player as he's won two satellites into WPT events and because of "all of that success" is seriously considering going on the tour. But here's the kicker...he would never consider buying directly into a 10k event. In his own words, "I should win every qualifying tournament I enter so there shouldn't ever be a problem getting an entry into a WPT for free." ooooooooohhhh kaaaaaayyyyyyy.

Secondly, as he volunteers specific information from the WPT championship tournament last week, he won't let me know any details from any hands because in his words, "I can't ever tell anyone what cards I had because I don't want people to use the information against me in the future." Basically, his big secret involves some hand where he got involved in a hand against Joe Hachem (pronounced HAY-chim by this genius) where at some point in the hand he made a big bet and Hachem folded a good hand. When I told him it was obviously a bluff he couldn't quite understand the logic that it isn't a story if he had the nuts and the other guy didn't pay him off.

Third, this character was our "D" golfer. Now I'm not bashing anyone who is a D golfer in a tournament like this, I'm a "C" golfer myself in this format, but to be completely honest calling this guy a D golfer is an insult to E and F golfers everywhere. We'd need to reach back to at least the 13th or 14th letters of the alphabet to correctly classify this guy. If any of you reading this could shoot 105-110 on an 18 hole course, I'd take you BLINDFOLDED over this asshat. Needless to say, playing with him in a scramble is not unlike playing a man down the whole day which officially put pressure on me as the highest handicapper in the group who actually had any chance of scoring at all.

There's so much more about this dreadful day of golf to tell you about, but if you want to know, just call me...I mean, I could go on for about 30 minutes with more gems from todays round if you're interested.

Finally, if the nightmare golf round wasn't enough, I get involved at a Craps table my last session of the week, and we're in the middle of a potentially great roll of the dice (I was already up about 10k during some random guy's roll) and had about 4-5k on the table and all five of us at the table were making money. Some bitter, bald, middle aged white guy decides to get all grumpy Gus in the middle of the roll. I ignore it as does everyone else, until the shooter rolled a hard 4. Now, only the shooter had any money on it, and they paid him (he was on the left side of the table, and grumpy gus and I were on the right side) then pushed the dice towards him and he began his shooting motion. Grumpy Gus decides that he wants to gripe that he didn't get paid the $175 for the $25 hard four, THAT WASN'T HIS!!! Not only wasn't it his, but he had never placed one in the entire 20 minutes that he was at the table. Anyway, all of this is happening in a split second, and the shooter flinches, sending one die all the way down the table, and the other trickling out of his hand...you can guess the number that showed up, and I #@!$ing lost it and almost ripped this guys head off. Looking back at it it was pretty funny. I think I grabbed my chips out of the rack and yelled out, "I'm #@!$ing out of here, color me the #@!$ up." Then I looked right at Grumpy Gus and MF'ed him up and down for about thirty seconds, at one point I even think I offered to pay him $175 out of my stack that the boxman was counting so he could, "Buy a bullet and rent a gun". He scurried his #@!$ ass off so fast that the dealers were all laughing...one of them shook my hand, and as I took my chips I apologized to the box and floor manager for blowing up and they laughed and said it was the best thing they'd seen in weeks. LOL!!!

Anyway, I can't wait to get home and lay down on my couch and watch some TiVo with my cats...I deserve some time off from these "vacations".