Tiffany Michelle's Parade Rained On

Her cards hadn't even hit the muck before Tiffany "Hot Chips" Michelle's great Main Event run was ruined by a disagreement with her employer pokernews.com.
Here's the simplest explanation of what went on as best as I understand it.
Tiffany had an agreement to work for PokerNews, but not an exclusive deal with them. Her buy-in was paid for by Tony G (part-owner of PokerNews) and Jeff Lisandro. When Tiffany made it through several days of the Main Event Ultimate bet (the site that sponsors her boyfriend, Hollywood Dave) approached her with a sponsorship deal (this is not uncommon in the poker world, sites slap their logos on players all the time). PokerNews was furious about this, saying they felt betrayed by her because she didn't consult them in her sponsorship negotations. Even though she wore both logos during the Main Event, PokerNews released this statement, and Tiffany fired back with a statement of her own which she has since taken off her MySpace page. Basically Tiffany said she appreciated what PokerNews did for her but she never signed an exclusivity agreement and was hoping to still work for PokerNews while playing in tournaments sponsored by UltimateBet.

Baby We Got Their Number

The Mets series win over the Phillies has given them a 9-4 lead in the season series. For a team that supposedly has our number, our 3 best starting pitchers do pretty well against them.

Numbers are career as Mets:
John Maine: 56 2/3 innings 43 hits, 20 walks, 33 strikeouts, 3.01 ERA, 5-0 record
Oliver Perez: 44 1/3 innings, 31 hits, 34 walks, 52 strikeouts, 2.84 ERA, 1-2 record
Johan Santana: 23 innings, 18 hits, 0 walks, 20 strikeouts, 2.74 ERA, 1-0 record

The record should be better obviously, but the bullpen has blown lots of games against the Phillies.
Also this year Perez has only allowed 1 run in 26 innings against the Phillies for a microscopic 0.35 ERA.

The Whole Crew

Two excellent pictures of the Staten Island crew taken at JLeary's wedding.

From left: Nails, The Poop, The Concierge, JLeary, TON, Focks, TallSkott, Reissberg




Photos courtesy of Special K

I Never Eat Soy

Eating a half serving a day of soy-based foods could be enough to significantly lower a man's sperm count, U.S. researchers said on Wednesday.
"What we found was men that consume the highest amounts of soy foods in this study had a lower sperm concentration compared to those who did not consume soy foods," said Dr. Jorge Chavarro of the Harvard School of Public Health in Boston, whose study appears in the journal Human Reproduction.
Chavarro's team analyzed the intake of 15 soy-based foods in 99 men who went to a fertility clinic between 2000 and 2006.
They were asked how much and how often in the prior three months they had eaten soy-rich foods including: tofu, tempeh, tofu or soy sausages, bacon, burgers and mince, soy milk, cheese, yogurt and ice cream, and other soy products such drinks, powders and energy bars.
Men in the highest intake category had 41 million sperm per milliliter less than men who ate no soy foods. A normal sperm count ranges from 80 million and 120 million per milliliter, and a sperm count of 20 million per milliliter or below is considered low.
"It suggests soy foods could have some deleterious effect on the reproductive system and especially on sperm production," Chavarro said.

Keith Hernandez, Cat Lover

Shea Cat
by TheFightins

This is not the first time a cat appeared at Shea Stadium and hopefully it will bring good luck as it did when a black cat ran in front of the Cubs dugout in 1969.

What Do You Give Me For? Elgin Baylor and Nipsey Russell

Leary's Wedding

Even though he doesn't look a day over 18 JLeary got married and since we've been friends for nearly 20 years, I was invited.

I was even a groomsman, along with Reissberg and the Concierge.

Because his lovely bride is from Hershey, Pennsylvania, that's where the wedding was held.

After a long drive through farm country thanks to our GPS, we arrived in Hershey disappointed that the smell of chocolate was not permeating the air as we had hoped. Apparently that only happens on hot, humid days.

Mrs. Poop and I checked into the lovely Hershey Hotel and explored the grounds. On separate trips we ran into the bride, the groom, the Reissbergs and the Concierges.

We had dinner Friday night at an Italian restaurant on Chocolate Avenue, but it wasn't a rehearsal dinner (more on that later).

We got back in time to witness a beautiful fireworks display put on by Hershey Park from the hotel's veranda.

Then we started drinking. It was really weird to drink with J's little brother Jeff whom I last remember tossing around when he was 4. Now he's all growns up and going to school and working as a pastry chef at a hotel. The Concierge tried to trick him into admitting that he uses transfats in violation of New York City's ban, but Jeff didn't even seem to know what Crisco is.

Saturday morning Mrs. Poop and I seemed to be the only ones who didn't pay to have strangers touch us (massage) so we spent the morning at Chocolate World getting a behind the scenes look at Hershey's manufacturing process.

We bought some souvenirs and split a delicious Smores cup and headed back to the hotel for lunch. Our lunch was provided by the bride and groom, a delicious cold cuts platter served in the Concierge's room. I think I ate about 10 pickles. I have a strange aversion to wasting food. If food I like is sitting there, I have to eat it.

After that I got dressed and met the groosmen downstairs for some pictures. Because this was a non-Jewish wedding the bride and groom didn't see each other before, so we were just with the groom for a few pictures and a rehearsal.

We met the pastor who walked us through everything that would happen, while constantly reminding us that he usually does this in a church. And he also mentioned repeatedly that he usually has a rehearsal dinner the night before. He seemed very nervous that something would go wrong, not only because this was a road game, but because we hadn't put in enough practice time.

The ceremony was in Founders Hall, part of the Milton Hershey School. The wedding was in a beautiful huge open space, and the bride got to walk down the stairs.



Since there was no rehearsal, the pastor was diligent in reminding us of our duties, including to usher guests to their seats, a duty I shirked because of my discomfort with non-Jewish traditions.

The pastor evidently spent too much time watching over us, because he forgot to say "you may kiss the bride," kind of an important part. Thankfully, he did get in all the legal mumbo-jumbo so they were married officially, and it was time to party.

I want to mention one more funny thing about the pastor. About halfway through the receiving line he suggested to us that we should check on the groom and see if he needs anything "maybe a breath mint."

The Concierge was offended by the presumption that he carries breath mints. "What is this, the 1950s when everyone carried binaca?"

Before we got to eat, the combined wedding party got to take more pictures, which was fun, but it made us a little late to the cocktail hour. When I arrived I found that Mrs. Poop had saved me a lobster tail (what reason am I up to now?) and I almost bit off the Conciergette's arm while trying to eat it.

I noticed that the table chosen by our significant others was conveniently located next to the seafood bar, which was full of shrimp. After making my way around the room (and getting into a fight with TON over the fact I friended his high school nemesis on Facebook) I returned and began devouring shrimp at a startling pace. Almost everyone in the room used the "Hey Paul, the ocean called..." line on me and when JLeary tried it I told him, "well I just had sex with your wife."

As usual TallSkott was dressed like a member of the wait staff.



The cocktail hour ended which meant it was time to party.

But first the bride and groom had their first dance as husband and wife.



There was also a dance with J and his mom (though this might have come much later on).



Once the DJ shifted from traditional party music to more contemporary music and hip-hop, the party really got rockin.

Thanks to an abundance of fun, young guests at this wedding, the dance floor was always very crowded, except for when someone put a bottle in the middle of it. Apparently this is a Long Island tradition, but it's evidently customary to place a beer bottle or glass in the middle of the dance floor because it somehow forces everyone to form a circle creating an arena for an intrepid soul to show off his or her moves for an adoring crowd. This was done several times throughout the night until Joe, a Mets fan and my best friend for the weekend, somehow broke the bottle with his face, without cutting his lip.

Some of the other featured music included "I Kissed a Girl," during which I ran around the room trying to get two girls to make out with each other. Maybe I crossed the line when I encouraged the bride to do it. At least Mrs. Poop said I did.

They also played "Apache," which got the cognoscenti out on the floor doing the Apache dance and patting their mouths to make the Indian noise.



At a lot of weddings the bride and groom don't get to enjoy their own party, not this time. May-May was out on the floor most of the night acting the fool with me.



When I walked outside the ballroom and noticed that there was a buffet of candy (Hershey's of course), kisses, York Peppermint patties, Mr. Goodbar, Kit Kats and others, along with bags for us to fill up and take home.

Now for those who don't know, The Concierge is not allowed to eat candy, by order of the Conciergette. So Nails and Mrs. Nails decided to play a little joke. Nails filled up a bag full of candy and was planning to stuff the Concierge's pockets. But when he reentered the room The Conciergette was sitting in The Concierge's chair. Mrs. Nails quickly ad libbed and put on The Concierge's jacket, feigning coldness. After a few minutes of subterfuge, she left the room wearing the jacket, with Nails following closely behind. After filling the pockets to the breaking point they returned and placed the jacket on the back of The Concierge's chair where they found it. When he went to put it on at the end of the night he noticed it was a little heavier than when he wore it last. For the next several minutes, he was yanking chocolate bars out of the jacket's every orifice. When the mound of chocolate was piled on the table he tried to explain that he had been set up, but everyone tried to convince The Conciergette that he was sneaking candy past her.




After the wedding ended we stayed at the hotel bar for a few more drinks, and one by one they dropped like flies, then I went to bed leaving The Concierge as the last man standing, in more ways than one.

Goodness Gracious Great Balls of Fire

Two practical jokers are behind bars for setting their passed-out drinking buddy's balls on fire. Matthew Craig Pillers and Jack Brent Nicholas Keiffer pleaded no contest to a felony great bodily injury charge.
Elliot Tuleja was passed out when the men poured cologne on the man's groin and set him on fire. Tuleja had second-degree burns on his testicles.
Pillers, who was out on parole, got 2 years for this.

Song of the Week

"What Do I Do With the Love?" - Dru Hill
When our relationship was in its infancy Mrs. Poop and I had one of those stupid fights young couples often do. We broke up, I listened to this song 100 times in a row and we got back together like a day later.

Round of the Year?

I've written before about how my love for boxing has been diminished since the sport descended into a cesspoll of controversial decisions and crappy fights. I never even watch matches live anymore, I just wait for them to be good, then catch them on youtube. So when I heard that the fight between Kendall Holt and Ricardo Torres featured the "Round of the Year," I was intrigued:



I was actually very disappointed by this because the second knockdown was a pretty cheap one, and the knockout punch didn't seem all that devastating. Exciting fight, but I've seen better.

I Hope Jenny McCarthy Meets This Guy in a Dark Alley

Talk radio host Michael Savage is under fire for some comments he made about autism:

“You know what autism is? I’ll tell you what autism is. In 99 percent of the cases, it’s a brat who hasn’t been told to cut the act out. That’s what autism is. What do you mean they scream and they’re silent? They don’t have a father around to tell them, ‘Don’t act like a moron. You’ll get nowhere in life. Stop acting like a putz. Straighten up. Act like a man. Don’t sit there crying and screaming, idiot.’”

Obviously this is ridiculous and this guy Savage is a fuckin moron. If he had been talking about ADHD, maybe, I could have seen his point, because I agree that's overdiagnosed. But with autism a 5-year old kid may not even speak, how do you blame that on parenting? I'm so furious at this guy right now.

Weekend At Bernie's III

I think they were shooting scenes for "Weekend at Bernie's III" during the All-Star game at Yankee Stadium.

How Do I Look?

Whenever I have to dress up for a wedding or other special event, Mrs. Poop usually tells me that I look nice, using her pet phrase, "you clean up nice."
I tend to disagree. What do you think?

Greg Norman Chokes Again

Greg Norman entered Sunday with a 2 stroke lead in the British Open. He bogeyed the first three holes, shot a 77 for the day and finished 6 strokes back, continuing one of the worst records of anyone in any sport.
He's now lost 54-hole leads 7 times in a major, and only one once in those situations.
Obviously, he's well past his prime and it was amazing for him to even finish as high as he did, but his age didn't catch up with him, his past did.
There is definitely something about Norman (we'll never know what it is) that brings out the worst in him when his best is needed.

Welcome to Washington, Katina Taylor

Great trade by the Redskins acquiring Jason Taylor and his beautiful wife Katina Taylor.
With the injury to Philip Daniels the Redskins needed a pass rushing end and they got the best one in the league.
And giving up a second and sixth round draft pick is basically stealing Taylor.
While his $8.1 million salary this year eats up almost all of the remaining cap room, it's money well spent.
And bringing his hot wife with him just sweetens the deal.

Reason Why I Love Mrs. Poop #415,772

I was watching an old poker tournament when Allen Cunningham and two other players got all-in preflop. All three of them turned up ace-king, and I pointed it out to Mrs. Poop.
The next day she asked "what happened in that hand when everyone had ace-king."
After years of pretending to hate poker I think she's warming up to it and will eventually be multi-tabling on my Full Tilt account.

A Way Around Mrs. Poop's Beer Pong Ban

When Mrs. Poop duped me into an expensive rennovation of our sunroom (and former beer pong playing area) she probably thought she'd stopped me from playing beer pong forever, but boy was she wrong.
A new video game titled "Beer Pong" was designed for the Nintendo Wii. We could play with virtual balls and cups and drink actual beer.
Not surprisingly some tightasses are unhappy with this game and the message it is sending to teens.
Even though the makers have agreed to call it "Pong Toss" and remove all references to alcohol, the oversensitive babies still want the game to be rated "M" for mature.

Girls, Girls, Girls

I think Chase and I can expect a few visits from Master Bates in the coming years, maybe to play catch, maybe to wrestle, because his house is going to be overrun with females.
Mrs. Bates is pregnant and the Bates clan is adding a new little girl to their brood in December.
Cayla is ecstatic to have a baby sister as she looks forward to making bottles, changing diapers, wiping tushies and applying butt paste.
We're all thrilled for them as well.

I Want to Be Angry, But I Have to Agree

Belmar, New Jersey Mayor Ken Pringle trashed Staten Island in his newsletter, "The Belmar Summer Rental News."
Belmar is overrun by undesirable visitors from Staten Island, a fact Mr. Mayor obviously isn't too happy about.
Despite the fact that he is insulting my homeland I have to agree with all of his assessments and applaud his sense of humor.

SI Girl Behaving Badly
In our never-ending quest to keep our summer renters informed and our wider readership amused, we have culled the Belmar police blotter for items of potential educational value to our readers.
Which brought us to a reported incident earlier this summer in which two women had a spat in (you’ll never guess) D’Jais. Now, if that isn’t shocking enough, hold on to your seat: One of the women was from Staten Island!! (Unbelievable, right? Only one of the women? We thought all of the women in D’Jais are from Staten Island). The other woman was from, of all places, Boonton, NJ, which according to Google maps appears to be a suburb of either Towaco or Hibernia. (We’re guessing the Boonton girl was either in D’Jais on some kind of sick bet, or was practicing for an audition on Survivor. Then again, maybe she just happened by, saw the people on the line out front, and thought, “Cool, a costume party!”).
Anyway, the spat ended the way most fights with SI girls do. The SI woman grabbed the Boonton woman by the hair (we’re told that in Staten Island, this is the female equivalent of a guy kicking another guy in the groin – only without the warm and friendly connotations) – and began punching her face in.
We realize, so far, this is not exactly newsworthy.
Journalistically speaking, “SI woman punches other woman” is right up there with “Dog bites man.” But here’s the twist: As the Staten Island girl was pummeling the Boonton girl’s face, she used the hand she was still holding her drink glass in. Now, we’re not sure if the glass was stuck to her hand cause of all the hair spray or if this is a technique Staten Island girls learn in Brownies, but we are thankful she left her brass knuckles and straight razor in her other purse.
Anyway, after the blood was all mopped up and the Staten Island girl was carted off in handcuffs, the police got around to asking her why she tried to smash the Boonton woman’s face in with the glass.
Her answer was so obvious, the cops must have felt dumb for even asking: “. . .‘cause she got in my face.”

There's also this passage on guidos:
They flock to our shore towns during the warm months, and are as welcome as, oh, Canada Geese. They’re always tanned to the color of coconut shells, and easily identified by their plumage: satin shirts and short skirts on the females; Armani Exchange T-shirts and artfully distressed jeans on the males. The females favor bold hair styles and colorful make-up; the males tend to strut and flex their pumped up
muscles. The call of the Guido is bellowing, and frequently slurred, invariably starting with the sound, “Yo,” followed all too often by some creative variation on an expletive beginning with the letter, “F.”

Product Review: Heineken DraughtKeg

I recently purchased a Heineken DraughtKeg (basically a minikeg) to bring to Hershey for Leary's wedding, so I could drink in my room without the obtrusiveness of a bunch of bottles or cans.
The keg holds 5 liters, roughly equal to 10.5 pints or 14 12-ounce beers.
At a cost of $18.99, that's a pretty good value, especially in contrast to the hotel bar.
It wasn't that big, or that heavy, and fit perfectly in the hotel fridge, which was quite convenient.
I asked The Concierge to tap it for me and here's his review of the product with my thoughts mixed in:

"The Heineken Keg is a fun product, easy enough to use but has room for improvement. The two step tapping of the keg is easy enough but tapping results in a premature discharge of beer."

The Conch prematurely discharged beer all over my sandals.

"Perhaps there is a written warning about this...who reads the directions on how to open a beer though. The pouring feature is a bit counterintuitive because you pull up on the lever instead of pressing down - this is actually the simpliest way to design the keg flow but people enjoy pressing down on a tap. Finally, the pours of beer have a lot of bubbles (foam), almost look like it was pressurized with nitrous oxide rather than CO(2)."

There was a tremendous amount of foam, and not just after the initial tap, each subsequent pour, even days later, was about 25% foam.

"Perhaps the pressure loss from seepage over the time the keg is tapped requires extra gas so that you don't run out. However this feature does make it fun pouring beer directly into your mouth. All said, this is a good product but I prefer ice cold bottles because of the lack of excess foam."

I prefer bottles as well but was happy with the keg because it did stay fresh for days afterwards (I still have some left), it promises to stay fresh for up to 30 days.

I also like the fact that this is more eco-friendly because it has much less packaging than bottles or cans. But I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to discard the keg when I'm done. Does it go out with the regular trash?

With the foam being a secondary issue for me, my biggest complaint was that the keg leaks. The small hose through which the beer is dispensed always held a few drops after each pour and despite my best efforts to shake, tap and wipe those drops away I still found a small puddle of beer on my refrigerator shelf.

The biggest thing the keg has going for it is novelty, so I'd recommend buying it once, and deciding for yourself.