Vegas without Poker

Two days in Vegas without poker takes a toll. If I see one more platinum blonde who's moronically enhanced her chest to DDD size I may lose it. Ditto for overweight poker slobs with stupid T-shirts and poor hygiene.

I really, really need to change my cellphone ringtone. The slot machines I pass every time I step out of the elevator sound just like it, discombobulating me momentarily every time.

Last night I went to PokerStars' party at The Palms' fancy new nightclub, Rain. John and I timed it perfectly, catching the contortionist Dita von Teese's sexy moves on a ring high above the dance floor. Other dancers on spotlit platforms gyrated madly with Vegas' patented bump 'n' grind thrusts--but all I wanted was to be back in my room finishing Vanity Fair's excellent article on Bear Stearns.

I've been eager to eat brunch at the Venetian's Bouchon for a long time. Twice in the past I've been there just as it closed with only a chocolate croissant for consolation. Today Rainbow and I agreed to meet there, but when I arrived it was closed for renovation. I joked that eating brunch at Bouchon was tougher than making the Final Table!

If all goes well, six 12-hour days of poker await me. So tonight I'll hit the sack early after watching a half-hour or so of the tournament, eating a light dinner, and doing a few review exercises on all-in calling odds.

Without a lot of chips, I'll probably be flying under the radar but you can get some tournament updates from either Card Player or the official World Series of Poker website.