There have been some requests to write about the stuff that happened in Aruba, so I’ll oblige.

I stayed with Ezra Galston, and Emil Patel (Whitelime / Maroonlime online) at the Radisson. We met up with Ariel Schneller who is a really cool guy with a lot of degeneracy to him that makes him even more entertaining. He has so many awesome stories about how he lost eleventy billion dollars playing blackjack, or busted a ginormous chip lead on the bubble of a WPT.

The first night in Aruba, Taylor Caby (Green Plastic) informed us of a party Phil Hellmuth was hosting. It was pretty sweet. He had 25 bottles of Don Perignon that ran out super quick. Phil was a gracious host, and you can tell that he is a man that wants to live that kind of glamorous lifestyle (and he does).

The next day we saw Phil again in the elevator. Phil was talking to some people about competitive Black Jack (UB was also holding a Blackjack Tournament that week in Aruba). He claimed it was a great game and would catch on and become really popular.

As we got out of the elevator, Ariel turned to Phil and said, “Blackjack is for morons”. On one hand, the irony of who was speaking made the comment really funny. On the other hand, Phil didn’t really know Ariel except for seeing him drink the Champagne Phil had supplied the night before, so to Phil, the irony was lost and it probably seemed like an unwarranted kick in the nuts. Anyway, I hope Phil quickly forgot about that comment.

My mother and step-father were in Aruba to watch me play the poker tournament. My mom was really excited to see me play. I took them out to dinner and stuff, but they left the day before my birthday to allow for maximum craziness.

I had spent the whole week telling people that come the 30th, we are going crazy and drinking our asses off on my birthday. On the 29th, my roommates had the brilliant idea, that it was only five minutes until midnight, so we had to go out and celebrate. We went to Carlos and Charlie’s, and there must have been 30 other poker players there. It seemed like throughout the course of the night, every single one of them came up to me and handed me a drink, and I couldn’t refuse. Let’s just say by the end of the night, I was slightly intoxicated.

The next night was more of the same, except preceded by some Karaoke. I think a lot of the people were afraid of being embarrassed, so I broke the ice to the tune of As Long As You Love Me by the Backstreet Boys w/ the help of Gambler2k4. I think my plan had the reverse effect. I think after seeing how terrible I was, people were even more afraid of the awkward embarrassment associated w/ Karaoke. Oh well, I don’t care. That’s the whole point of Karaoke, to give awful singers a chance to sing. I had lots of fun.

Afterwards, we went to Carlos and Charlie’s again, and it was the same as last night, except even more people came up to me buying me drinks.

There was also some contest on stage, where five guys danced on stage for this girl. The audience chose the winner. The contestants consisted of Devilfish, Travis (poker player friend of mine), Antonio Esfandiari’s father, some random nobody, and myself. Travis deserved to win. He had the girl and the audience going crazy, but nobody could refuse the appeal of the five foot tall 60 year old Mr. Esfandiari winning the contest. I have pictures of all of this, but I’m not so sure it would be a good idea for me to post them on my website. We’ll see.