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January 31, 2006

WWdN tourneys at pokerstars

This is your semi-regular reminder that the WWdN Friday game on Tuesday is tonight, and while I have your attention, I'll also remind you that the Thursday game is the day after tomorrow.

After much tweaking of the schedules, I've decided that the games will always take place at 8:30 EST on Tuesday, and 8:30 PST on Thursday. This should give everyone a chance to make it home from work, school, or the Regal Beagle in time to play.

A question for European players: are there more than five of you? I'm happy to host a once-a-month European-friendly game that would start very early (around noon Pacific) to accomodate you guys, if there's enough interest.

Also, don't forget that everyone who enters the Tuesday game has a shot at the WWdN Tournament of Champions, which is a free-roll SNG, sponsored by PokerStars. If you win a Tuesday game, you'll get a chance to play against me and seven other winners for some serious money, just because PokerStars loves you that much. I've been remiss in getting the first ToC scheduled, and I'll take care of that shortly.

Here are the details for tonight's game, which is the first game to be named after a previous champion, who I also happen to consider a friend:

What: WWdN: penner42 Invitational
Where: PokerStars.
When: Tuesday, January 31. 8:30 EST
Password: monkey
Tournament number: 18610753
Buy-in: $10 1

We're averaging about 70 players per game. I'd love to get that number up over 100, so the final two tables pay. Any suggestions on how to do that?

(Crossposted to CardSquad.com, where you can also read my review of High Stakes Poker on GSN)

two follow-ups

Follow-up to Radio Free Burrito Episode Four: Like I thought, I did a great job on the voice audition, and they loved what I did. Also like I thought, my voice is too deep for the character, so I didn't get the part. Sadtimes, made less sad by the casting director telling my manager that everyone at Nick likes what I do, and they'll bring me back until they find a project that I can be part of.

Follow-up to the Walter post: Like I thought, I sucked out loud, and they were kind enough to simply say, "it's not going any further." I hope I didn't suck so hard they don't bring me back for future projects.




January 26, 2006

Walter!

Walter

While channel surfing, I just discovered that my episode of CSI, Compulsion, is about to start on the West Coast.

So if you'd like to see me and my sweater, put on your local CBS station, and enjoy!

Afterthought: I'm having a really shitty day, which included an absolutely terrible audition (my fault, not theirs), and accidentally discovering that this is on has brightened my spirits just a little bit. I'm real proud of the work I did on CSI, and it's nice to remember how good it felt to earn the part, work on the show, and watch the episode when it first aired.

"Finders keepers!"

January 25, 2006

Young Chuck Norris Facts

Many moons ago, my wife and I found ourselves at a Black Angus restaurant.

I'd like to welcome back those of you who just picked yourselves up off the floor. I don't know what we were thinking, either. See, my best friend works at The Arroyo Chophouse in Pasadena, whch is the best steak house in the entire city, possibly in the universe.

But it was a youthful indescretion, sort of like that one that that happened with that intern that one time in the elevator. Whatever, man. Like you wouldn't have. Quit judging me!

Ahem. Anyway, the waitress came over to our table after our food had been delivered, and asked, "Is everything excellent?" She said it just like that. I mean, I could hear the italics and everything.

I know that this poor girl was just doing her job, just as she'd been when she tried to upsell us on "a half-carafe or perhaps a full carafe of Fetzer merlot" ("Thanks, we'll just have iced tea," we politely responded) but something inside me snapped. Before I could stop myself, I heard the following come out of my mouth: "Excellent? Excellent? No," I said, "It's fine, and in fact I'll even tell you that it's nice, but excellent? If I said yes, I'd really be devaluing the whole word -- and concept -- of 'excellent.'"

Anne gasped. The muzak was interrupted by the scratching of a needle across vinyl.

Remember in Cable Guy, when they're at Medieval Times, and Janeane Garafolo looks at Matthew Broderick and just says, "Dude?" and we all know that he's the asshole?  It was like that. BUT! Before you freak out at me, I apologized for my little outburst, and over-tipped the girl for her suffering (I think it was in the 50% range.) But I did not -- and I will not -- waiver on whether the excellence, or lack therof.

On the way home, Anne turned to me out of nowhere and said, "Excellent? We're at Black Angus. Let's try for adequate and go from there."

"Well thanks for speaking up for me when we were in there," I said. "It was excellent that you had my back."

She punched me in the arm, which I whined about for the next several days.

I relate this story now, because I've been thinking about the word -- and concept of -- awesome, and how it applies to my life. Awesome is even more important than excellent, and I've discovered that I've probably devalued awesome a little bit in the last year or so.

Most of the time, I don't feel particularly awesome, though I harbor secret dreams of one day achieving a state of hawesome, which I seriously doubt will ever come. But today, I got my very first Well Placed Anonymous Source e-mail, and I have to admit, I feel kind of awesome.

So.

In response to my post about Young Chuck Norris, Deep Throat writes:

Hey Wil,

I have some facts I can share about Young Chuck Norris that may help to clear the air.

It was written October (by Andrew Steele), but it didn't get a green light until Lazy Sunday's success opened the doors for shorts like these. The Lonely Island guys weren't aware of the Chuck Norris Facts meme until after the short aired and everyone started emailing it to them.

It is a parody of 80's hair rock videos. They liked the American We Stand As One video and thought it would be a cool homage to dress the guy like him. Also it was a convenient way to describe the look to the costume department. The total shooting budget was zero dollars. All of the non-SNL people in the video were just random people from the park (including the kids).

Other than the wardrobe, any similarities are coincidental. They are all just cliches one finds in 80's rock videos.

Your Well Placed Anonymous Source

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my Well Placed Anonymous Source, (mine! if you want one, get your own, goddammit!) and again invite everyone who freaked out at me about my post to run as fast as they can into that brick wall over there. Trust me, it's the first step toward picking up a sense of humor.

If any other anonymous sources would like to communicate with me, put a red flower pot on your balcony, or a green "X" made from hand-colored duct tape in the right corner of your car's rear window. I'll be in touch.

peter packrat

This week's Games of our Lives is an extremely fun game that never really caught on, called Peter Packrat.

Gameplay: Okay, Peter, there's a ton of junk scattered around your neighborhood, just waiting for you to get your disease-ridden claws on it. You can climb, jump, and crawl your way around your neighborhood as you fill your nest with bottles, rings, watches, and cans.

However, you're a dirty little rat, and you're at the bottom of the Flatbush food chain. Enemies like Scrapper the dog, Clawd the cat, Sticky the spider, and the resident tough guy Riff Rat would love to make you into a nice snack. You can avoid them with deft footwork and judicious use of hidden shortcuts, or attack them by throwing some of your precious junk. If you manage to score a hit, you can turn the tables and ride them around, with the exception of Riff Rat, who isn't anybody's bitch, in spite of what you may have heard around town.

Could be mistaken for: Cheeky Mouse, Bagman, a walk along the Los Angeles River

It's a moderately amusing column (the bio is the best part, if you ask me), lacking the rapier-like wit of Jungle King and Triple Punch, but not every at bat can be a home run, you know?

Anyway, WWdN:iX Reader Larry Hastings (who wants you to know that he is so old skool, he remembers Battlezone when it was on field test as "Future Tank") sent me the following Peter Packrat story, which he's given me permission to reprint here:

Just a personal story about Peter Packrat... a footnote to history.

At one time in my life I was Intergalactic World High Score Champion at Peter Packrat.  That's because there was only one--on field test at Merlin's Castle in San Jose right near my house--and I was the main person playing it.

The game is deterministic; you develop patterns which will work every time.  I had worked out patterns for, I /think/, the first five levels or so... that was as far as I generally got.  One day while playing I discovered a bug: the "spider" in the creepy cavern level would occasionally stray out of its web, and if you conked it on the noggin with bric-a-brac you could stun it and ride it around.  Since it wasn't on the "spider web" anymore, the game didn't think it was a spider... so it decided it was a bat!  It even made the bat sound effect.  This delighted me, and it actually improved my pattern, so I worked it in.

One day I came in to Merlin's Castle and Peter Packrat was out of commission.  Some guy had the back open, where I could clearly see... a Commodore 1541 floppy drive, like you'd use with a Commodore 64.  After a minute or two of grinding and buzzing, it finished doing what it was doing.   He took out the disk and they restored the machine to active service  I started playing only to discover that the bug was fixed and my pattern didn't work anymore.  I think I mostly gave up on the game after that.

About ten years ago I corresponded a little with Lyle Rains, a now-ex-Atari guy, and mentioned all this.  He opined that the animations on Peter Packrat were just fantastic--really cute--and it was an utter shame that Atari botched it as a product.

And a bit of news that is quite exciting for me: Peter Packrat is internally known as "gool#52", which means that I've been writing Games of our Lives for one full year. How much does that rock? The answer is: totally.

 

January 24, 2006

the one with a lot of random bullshit

I made the (mistake?) of ordering a Venti coffee this morning, and I feel like a little hummingbird right now.

So how about a whole bunch of random crap?

"After reviewing the Republican record, I know why Ken Mehlman and Karl Rove want to play politics with national security in 2006 instead of having an honest debate about who can keep Americans safe. It's because this is a debate Republicans cannot win.

Republicans run good campaigns, but when it comes to actually governing and protecting Americans, they have a record of incompetence."

Right on, Senator. Think you can get the rest of the Democrats together on this one, or are you guys going to totally screw it up again?

  • Those people who freaked out at me because of my last post? Get a life. Failing that, get a sense of humor.
  • I've read two amazing books recently, which I'll mention and recommend later on this week.
  • One of the points Stephen King makes in On Writing . . . over and over again is that people who wish to be writers must make time to read. I find that the more I read, the more I want to write, because my writing monkey only digs his claws into my brains when I read something and think, Oh! I can do that, too! Watch me now! I can't wait to write about Friday night.
  • Stephen King has a new book out today, about people who become zombies because of cell phones. It sounds really fun.

The survey also noted that iTunes Music Store customers were 2.2 times more likely to drive a Volkswagen than any other car. They also discovered that iTMS customers liked to drink cider and imported beer. So I guess that on the road of life there are passengers, and teenaged drunk drivers.

  • One of my favorite bits on Futurama was, "I'm Roseanne, your guide to the world of facts." I love that line so much, I wish I could use it whenever I share some useless bit of information with someone, like, "Did you know that a baby's head weighs the same as a brick of gold on the moon? It's true. I'm Wil, your guide to the world of facts."
  • I think I already knew this, but forgot: Good news, everyone! There's a Futurama movie in the works, and there's even a chance that Futurama could have a Family Guy-esque revival on television.
  • Nolan told me the other night, "I love it when Professor Farnsworth says things like, 'I'm sending you on a mission to Planet Certain Death, where you'll have your faces crushed by killer robots as soon as you land . . . Enjoy!'"
  • I got The Wilco Book + CD for Xmas, right before Santa came down and rained death upon the whole world, and it is really amazing. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because it's Wilco, after all, that the CD is as good as it is, but it wouldn't be shocking if they threw together some "B" material to release with the book (which is awesome on its own, by the way). They didn't. Several of the tracks have earned a coveted five star rating on my iPod.
  • I watched I am Trying to Break Your Heart over the weekend. The best moment in the entire film is when Jeff Tweedy's son plays drums on his lap, and makes Jeff guess which song he's playing. When Jeff guesses that it's Heavy Metal Drummer, he starts to sing it while his son plays the drums on his legs. It's one of the sweetest and most awesome moments I've ever seen. In fact, it was awesome and a half.
  • Mt friend Kat is taking me to see Jeff Tweedy when he comes to LA. Ding!
  • Night before last, we had 70-80 MPH gusts of wind at my house, which knocked out our power for about 18 hours and destroyed several million-year-old oak trees in my neighborhood. One of them almost took out one of my neighbor's houses. Yipe. Last night, we expected the wind to come back, but it never did. On the way home from school yesterday, the kids and I discussed the wind, and came to the following conclusions:
  • I hate the wind, because it's so destructive and loud.
  • Nolan sleeps through it at night, and if he had to pick between wind and rain, he'd take wind.
  • Ryan loves the wind, because it feels like it's cleaning everything up, and it's got all this raw, unfocused power.
  • We all love days like today, after the wind has gone away, where it's so clear you feel like you could see to the other side of the world, if the damn horizon wasn't in the way.
  • I had a bit of a panic recently when my Powerbook began acting weird. None of the disk utilities on my install discs worked, and I was on the verge of freaking out, when I was pointed toward Disk Warrior. I can't praise Disk Warrior enough. It completely fixed all the problems, in about an hour, and my Powerbook doesn't show any of the obvious signs of the abuse it takes from me, up here on the second floor.
  • Though you won't be able to tell when you read this entry, I'm stopping right now to call Allentown, PA, to do an interview. I really liked the reporter, and we talked for about 45 minutes. I hope I made sense, and I'll link the article when it comes out.
  • This post has way too many indents and sub-indents.
  • Bill Hicks just came on iTunes. Who is the modern day Bill Hicks? I can't think of anyone off the top of my head.
  • Isaac Hayes' Joy just came on iTunes. Good thing Anne isn't home, or this post would be delayed by at least another three minutes.
  • Eww! Gross!
  • What?
  • This post is really fun to write. I think I've been taking myself, my blog, and everything in general too seriously lately. (Deadbeats really fucking suck, man, and they can really take a lot of the happiness out of your life) Who cares if everything I write isn't so goddamned great or important? And who cares if I over-use italics?
  • A friend of mine just pointed out to me that I'd created another Prove To Everyone . . . rather than write an entire book about it to slay it, the simple act of identifying the existance of this beast was like turning on the light and realizing that the monster I kept seeing in the corner was just a jacket slumped over the chair. In other words, it was never really there, and only existed because I created it. Wow. I feel like I've been breathing through a straw, and I just got to take my first deep breath in months. Thanks, J.
  • I think I've said everything I need to say, and I'm incredibly satisfied right now. Where is my mind? It's right here. Rather than push it, I'm going to hit "publish," and go outside to enjoy a little bit of this amazing day we're having.

I'm Wil, your guide to the world of facts.

January 23, 2006

America, Young Chuck Norris Stands As One

On SNL this weekend, there was a short from The Lonely Island called Young Chuck Norris. It was remarkably funny, and it was also remarkably similar to my former Star Trek co-worker Dennis Madalone's video called America We Stand As One. In fact, it's a little too similar. When I was done laughing, I wondered, "Did they just rip Dennis off?"

Maybe I was just touchy, and still reeling from those Apple commercials that were, uh, "inspired" by The Postal Service and sent shockwaves of indifference across the Internets  . . .  until a friend of mine pointed out the following creepy similarities between YCN and AWSAO (Don't be afraid of needless acronyms. Acronymns are your friend, man. AAYF):

- bluejeans
- patriotic shirt
- completely rockin' attitude
- brown jacket
- spending time with children for no reason
- rock climbing
- long flaxen hair on his head
- long flaxen hair as his mantra
- awesome knee bandana
- beach-side action
- american flag scarf

That's an awful lot of similarities. It's almost too many to be coincidental. Now, there's a very fine line between parody and stealing, and as a sketch comedy writer I walk it myself. When I do a parody sketch, I always make sure the audience knows what the source material is, but it's (hopefully) funny because of the original writing. I thought that Young Chuck Norris was funny because of all the images and themes, and those images and themes are straight out of Dennis' video. Is it a parody, silently giving a nod to America We Stand As One? Or is it a moderately funny idea taken to the heights of hilarity with the addition of some long flaxen hair, an awesome knee bandana, and a completely rockin' attitude?

It certainly wouldn't be the first time someone's done a parody of Dennis' well-meaning but unintentionally hilarious song and video, and I want to believe that The Lonely Island is doing a level seven parody, instead of a level two rip off job, because they are producing some of the funniest stuff that's been on SNL in years, (without The Lonely Island, we'd never know that Mr. Pibb + Red Vines = Crazy Delicious, for example, and I think our lives would all be a little less awesome) and they're an incredibly talented group of writers and performers who have embraced Creative Commons, and didn't get discouraged when those luddites at Fox didn't understand how awesome it was in Awesometown. In fact, I bet those Philistines at Fox have never had Mr. Pibb or Red Vines. Jerks.

But if they were, uh, "inspired" by Dennis' totally rockin' attitude and patriotic shirt, I think they should give him some credit. Because I heard that Dennis owns some Chuck Norris pajamas, sleeps with a night light, and has a roundhouse kick that is second only to a Chuck Norris Roundhouse kick, but comes with an awesome knee bandana and a completely rockin' attitude.

January 19, 2006

Radio Free Burrito Episode 4

Greenslime_1 Yes, it is true! At long last, the long-overdue Episode Four is here. According to certain other episode-numbered series, this should be the episode that grabs everyone's attention and establishes me as a Force to be reckoned with . . . but it will be the next episode that proves to be my best ever, one which I'll never be able to top.

I guess I should figure out a way to get a hold of Lawrence Kasdan, huh?

This episode is another audio diary one, this time centered around an audition I had this morning for a new Nickelodeon animated series. It was an awesome audition, thanks entirely to the totally cool people who I read for, who made me feel welcome, and enthusiastically worked with me to bring my version of this character to life. (I know some of you read my blog, so thank you for doing that. I had an awesome time today. You guys rock.)

The audio diary is 33 minutes long, so I didn't do Q&A in this show, but it will be back in the next show. In fact, I'll devote most of the next show to Q&A, since many of you have written in that you like that, and it's pretty damn easy for me to answer questions about myself.

Show Notes:

  • The intro music is "Gone for Good" by The Shins, from their album Chutes Too Narrow. In Garden State, Natalie Portman says that The Shins will change your life, and plays New Slang to back up this bold statement. I think New Slang is a great song, but it doesn't have the emotional resonance for me that Gone for Good does. Why? Listen to the podcast to find out. For those of you scoring at home, the updated board should read Garden State: 0 Wil: 1
  • The link to save Teen Titans is: http://www.titanstower.com/source/animated/saveseason6.html
  • The song you heard from Nada Surf is Neither Heaven Nor Space, and it's off their nearly-perfect album Let Go.
  • There's a picture from inside Nickelodeon, which I snapped with my super-stealth cameraphone, in my Buzznet blog. I meant to mention this months ago, but Buzznet has this thing where you can make posters, calendars, books, or postcards from your Buzznet images. I have a book filled with images taken up until last summer, and it's really cool.
  • Comments can be sent to podcast at wil wheaton dot net, questions can be sent to ask at wil wheaton dot net. Please use a descriptive subject line.
  • Radio Free Burrito is released under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.

The entire show is 47 minutes long (ouch. sorry about that.) and weighs in at 18.8MB. Enjoy!

Download radio_free_burrito_episode_four.mp3

Update: WWdN:iX reader Brian has created the following .torrent low-fi mirrors:

High (orig):
http://athena.unearthed.org/torrents/radio_free_burrito_episode_four.mp3.torrent

Low (mono, VBR bit rate range 8-24, 8.1 megs):
http://athena.unearthed.org/torrents/radio_free_burrito_episode_four-low.mp3.torrent

Mirror for the Low..
http://www.badmonkies.com/rfb/radio_free_burrito_episode_one-low.mp3

Thanks, Brian!

January 18, 2006

every song's a comeback

An interesting (there's that word again) follow-up to my previous post, which was a funny follow-up to its previous post: Way back when I was eighteen or nineteen, my friend Damion, who wrote and directed  Neverland, stood in front of the Tower Records on Sunset the day Fabio's CD came out, with a cardboard sign which read, "I need twelve dollars to buy the Fabio CD." It took him about fifteen minutes to successfully panhandle his way into his own copy of Fabio After Dark.

A few years later, Damion was Garfield for Halloween, but not just any Garfield; the Garfield that was stuck into car windows all over Los Angeles in the early 1990s. He had the giant suction cups and everything, but what really made the costume was after a few drinks, when Damion told anyone who would listen, "Garfield has gingivitis!" It was a very surreal All Hallow's Eve, to say the very least, and I haven't even gotten to the part where the drag queen got into some sort of quasi-erotic (or disturbing, I suppose) dance off with a stripper that, strangely, had something to please almost everyone in the ad-hoc audience.

every moment's a little bit later

A funny follow-up to my previous post, that had completely washed out of my brains until moments ago, when for some inexplicable reason the theme to Get Smart made me remember:

About a year ago, Anne and I were driving home down Santa Monica near Highland in Hollywood. It was the beginning of afternoon rush hour traffic, so when I saw a person waiting to make a left from a side street, I stopped to let him go across in front of us. See, I try to do nice things like that, because I believe the world would be a much better place if everyone made an effort to do little things, like hold doors open, let people with fewer items cut in front in the checkout, say "thank you" . . . things like that.

Anyway, I stop to let this guy pull out across in front of us, and Anne says, "Dude! That's totally Fabio!"

"What? Where?!" I said.

"Driving the car you just let in front of us!"

I laughed, because Anne and I occasionally play the celebrity look alike game, too.

We were silent for a second or two, and we both realized that that the car was a Bentley, and the driver was, indeed, Fabio.

"Oh my god!" I said. "It really is Fabio!"

Anne and I decided that this momentous occasion warranted an immediate and vigorous high-five.

Fabio waved his hand at me in the universal "thank you," gesture, turned West onto Santa Monica, and drove into the Sunset. We continued East into our mundane, non-Fabio lives.

ruby vroom

When I was in my very early 20s, this girl who I dated and I played this celebrity lookalike game.

Whenever we saw someone who looked like a celebrity, one of us would say, "Hey, there's Nell Carter" or "Don't look now, but Kirk Cameron is shopping in Target."

One day, we were eating lunch at this Hamburger Hamlet in West Hollywood, on the extreme West end of the Sunset Strip. I looked up from my lunch to see this totally goofy looking guy, with a stupid mullet, parachute-y muscle pants, and a corduroy hat that had "Someone in Tennessee Loves Me" embroidered on the front.

"Hey," I said, "There's Chuck Norris wearing a 'Someone in Tennessee Loves Me' cap."

We cracked up and complimented each other on our insightful wit.

A few minutes later, a manager walked over to that guy's table holding a phone on a long cord, like you'd see in the old 1940s movies.

"Mr. Norris," he said, "Mr. Washington is calling from Knoxville."

January 17, 2006

i'm too far out to sea but something better happen soon

Last night, I played some micro-limit (.10/.25) hold'em on PokerStars. Right after I donkeyed into a gutshot on the turn with JTo to suckout on this poor guy who made middle pair with KQ on a board of A-Q-9 I realized that I'd forgotten to set up today's WWdN Invitational. While that guy filled the chat box with things like "****ing moron," and "nice call with a gutshot there, you stupid ****ing donkey mother******," I got everything set up but the name. I thought of something like WWdN #10: The Wil Didn't Play Last Week Invitational, but let's face it, that sucks.

Luckily for me, my stepson Nolan walked into my office at that moment, so I said to him, "Do you want to name my tournament?"

"What do you mean?" He said.

I explained how I name the tourney after the donkey extremely skillful player who knocks me out each week, but since I was /away, I didn't know what to name it.

He thought for about a nanosecond, and said, "Yeah! Name it Nolan Rules!" He cracked up, and was shocked when I typed it in and hit enter.

"Okay," I said, "you've just named the tourney."

"Uhh . . . how many people will get to see that?"

"Thousands," I said. "Maybe tens of thousands, and they will all know that you rule. In fact, it could be hundreds of millions. I hope you're prepared for the responsibility that comes with ruling that many people."

He gave me the you're so lame/you're insane/oh-my-god-I-am-mortified-that-you-did-that look, which is pretty common since he became A Teenager.

"Are you serious?" He said.

I laughed. "No. It will only be seen by fives of people in the tourney, and maybe thirties of people online. And I think most people will get the joke."

"Okay . . ." He said.

"And even if they don't, what do you care? You're their ruler."

Now he smiled. "Whatever, Wil. Are you going to come play charades with me and mom now?"

"Right after I finish this orbit," I said. He glanced at the screen and said, "uh, that guy is cussing a lot."

"Yeah, I put a really bad beat on him," I said.

"Oh, so you mean he's saying in the chat box what you say in real life when you're in here alone?" He smirked.

Busted.

"Something like that," I said. "Tell your mom I'll be right there."

I returned to my game. "Sorry man," I typed in the chat box. "You're right. I am a complete donkey, and I totally suck at poker."  On the very next hand, I was dealt A5c in the SB. Everyone limped in ahead of me, so I completed and saw a flop of 2-3-6 with no clubs. I checked, the BB raised, and it was folded to KQ guy, who bet the pot. It was folded back to me.

Do I try for the gutshot again?
I thought. Because the Implied Tilt Odds are infinite.

I actually went into the tank for a bit, until deciding that it was probably stupid to call. I folded, and a 4 hit the turn.

So this is what it's like to be CJ, I thought, as I picked up my virtual chips, and headed out to the living room to play with my family.

the click click clack of shuffled chips

The last couple of days, I've been pretty busy writing stories for CardSquad, including one about the demise of one of Vegas' greatest dumps, The Klondike, which I think has enough crossover appeal to mention here:

Right after we placed our order, a man and a woman sat down at the table next to us. I forget what she looked like, but he was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, and was a smelly, unshaven mess. From their conversation, it was unclear whether he'd been released, or escaped. Either way, the waitress (who was so drunk at eleven in the morning, we were concerned about open flames) didn't seem to care. Because we were all in our very early twenties, neither did we. The as-yet-unawakened writer in me furiously scribbled down every possible detail of what was clearly a moment in time we'd never want to forget.

There's more, so follow the links if I've successfully piqued your interest. There's also a story about this really cool thing PokerStars is doing today and tomorrow: revealing hole cards during a television-style replay of the final table of January 8th's $500,000 guaranteed tourney. I don't know if it has as much crossover appeal as the Klondike story, but it's such cool news, I'm mentioning it anway, because this is my damn blog and I can do whatever I want, goddammit:

It was quite a sight, to walk into any of the WiFi-enabled areas of the resort, and find players packed in, elbow-to-elbow, in some cases playing battleship-style, in others, sweating each other after one of them had been eliminated, in all, hoping to claim first place, which was worth over $125,000.

The lobby of my tower was filled with recognizable professional players, like Evlyn Ng, Alex Todd, Michael Mizrachi, and others. There were also fearsome online pros, and a few donkeys like me. The energy was just as electric, and the stakes just as high as they were down the hall in the live poker room, where the main event of the PCA was still underway. The only difference? Players could smoke in the lobby, while the poker room was smoke-free.

Also, the WWdN Invitational returns tonight, at 8:30 PM EST. I let Nolan name this week's game, since I didn't play last week, and was therefore unable to be the victim of a 3-outer river suckout.

What: WWdN: Nolan Rules! Invitational
Where: PokerStars.
When: Tuesday, January 17th, 2006. 8:30 PM EDT
Password: monkey
Tournament number: 18186252
Buy-in: $10+1

Finally, some really exciting news: I talked about the WWdN tourneys with a friend of mine while I was at the PCA, and asked him if he'd consider playing with us one day. He couldn't commit to a specific date, but told me that if I remind him each week, he'll eventually have some time to play with us. His name is Greg Raymer. You may have heard of him. (ohmygodohmygodohmygod)

See you all tonight!

January 15, 2006

i could keep it above, but it wouldn't be sky anymore

It turns out that I didn't take as many pictures at the PCA as I thought I did. It's kind of a drag, because Anne and I specifically agreed that, even though it's a bit of a hassle to carry the camera everywhere, we always appreciate lots of pictures once we get home.

Oh well. It's just more motivation for me to get fabulously wealthy, so I can justify the purchase of one of those really skinny and ultra-portable digital cameras everyone else has.

Anyway, I uploaded most of the good photos to my flickr account in a nifty little photoset called 2006 PCA. For some reason, there isn't a single picture of me in the poker room, which makes me sad.

building towered foresight isn't anything at all

I was doing some research for Games of our Lives at Wikipedia, and I took a look at my entry while I was there. I'm glad that the days of idiot vandalism are over, but I also see that the information there is incredibly incomplete, and there's a completely incorrect assertion about my relationship with PokerStars (I don't provide "advertising services" for them, I'm on Team PokerStars. Big difference.) I would be happy to write up a more complete biography, including some as-yet-unpublished information about growing up, my early years as an actor, and some of the things I've done in the last five or six years that aren't there.

I'm not interested in "spinning" anything, just filling in more information to make it a more useful and complete entry. I know that editing one's own Wikipedia page is frowned upon, but if it's just filling in facts, that's okay, right? Anyone have any thoughts or comments?

In a related story, someone finally fixed my entry at the imdb. Thank you, unknown editor!

January 14, 2006

buy the sky and sell the sky

There's this one corner of my office that's been completely taken over by various bits of flotsam. It's the place where things that really need to be dealt with get shoved aside, partially out of sight, but never entirely out of mind.

I've been putting off cleaning it up, but just before we left for the PCA, I had this overwhelming and undeniable desire to clean out all the bullshit that is scattered around my house, which has been allowed to pile up and overwhelm me over the last year or so.

This is a powerful metaphor for what's going on in my life right now.

I am so fucking sick and tired of all this bullshit that's piled up everywhere that makes me feel like I'm not even in control of my own life, and I'm so sick of making excuses for allowing it to be there, I just attacked it this afternoon. Literally. I grabbed handfuls of books off shelves and piled them on the floor to be sorted. I pulled out drawers from a desk, dumped them next to the books, got the shredder out, and went through almost eighteen months worth of junk and paperwork that should have been filed away or destroyed long ago. It's been a long, occasionally frustrating, but mostly rewarding day, as I get this shit under control. The end is starting to come into view, and now that I feel like this shit isn't controlling me, I can enjoy some of the cool things I've come across, like a stack of old Star Trek trading cards, my script from CSI, some press kits from Stand By Me, and a bunch of really cool Aqualad figures I'd forgotten I had. I found things that made me angry, like correspondence I sent to O'Reilly (unsuccessfully) begging them to stop mispromoting Just A Geek, and things that made me incredibly happy, like a first-edition of Dancing Barefoot, complete with typo(e)s, and the original hand-drawn layout for WWdN from a thousand years ago. I also found some things that made me really sad, like one of Sketch's chewed up rainbow balls. I also found some things that must have seemed very important at the time I collected them, like an envelope with the word "It's Curvy!" written in my this is hilarious! script, and a seven of diamonds with the pips connected like dots. I also found a bunch of poker chips I thought I'd lost, and well over one hundred polyhedral dice. There are CDs, DVDs, pictures, business cards, notes, and lots and lots of games.Most of this stuff is going into boxes and out to the garage, but a lot of it will get thrown into the trash with extreme prejudice. It's empowering to decide what's important enough to keep around, what's worth dealing with, and what's just better off going straight into the fucking trash where it belongs.

For the longest time, the only semi-calm area in my office was about a four foot neutral zone surrounding my computer, but I've nearly reclaimed the entire area in the name of Wil, and it feels awesome. Tomorrow, I will continue to expand my empire out into the rest of my house, and by extension, my life. I'm not sure if I'll be successful, but I'm going to do my very best.

Which is a powerful metaphor for what's going on in my life right now.

January 13, 2006

back to winter

We got home late last night, after a really bumpy and seemingly never-ending flight. Have you noticed that when you want to get home after a long trip, everything seems to take twice as long? We waited an hour to get our bags at LAX, then an additional 35 minutes for the car to pick us up. It's a good thing I was rested and travelling with my wife, or I would have been super cranky.

I'll have a massive trip report up as soon as I unpack and wash my clothes, and get caught up on my e-mail, bloglines, real mail, and whatever else has piled up over the last ten days (don't worry, all the poker stuff will be at CardSquad.com, so you can read the entire trip, or just the stuff that interests you.)

January 07, 2006

lightly tapping a high-pitched drum

From my balcony, I can see two cruise ships on the horizon, two weddings on the grounds beneath me, and the stetting sun bathing the entire scene in a golden light. The sound of waterfalls and reggae music drifts up on a light breeze, which was a fierce windstorm as recently as last night.

The white sand of the beach is dotted with washed-over footprints, and the sting rays in the pool beneath me are settling into the shallows, now in shade, where they spend their evenings.

When I landed here in Nassau, and did some interviews to promote PokerStars and the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure, I commented that even if I didn't make the money, the "consolation prize of a week" in paradise with my wife would do quite nicely.

It turns out that I was right.

Catching up on the last few days . . .

After Anne and I slept for fourteen hours to catch up from our post-holiday and red eye flight exhaustion, we wandered around the grounds here. We ate lunch, and had our first experience with the absolutely abominable service in the restaurants here. (Rude, slow, and disinterested seems to be the standard theme, always rewarded by the mandatory 15% tip which is helpfully included in all of our bills.)

After lunch, we went down to the beach where we played Scrabble and watched people parasail, ride jet skis, and play in the surf and sand. I've lived all over the world, and I've been to some really beautiful places, but there is nothing like the beauty of the Caribbean water on a sunny day. Even when the weather was lousy, like it was yesterday, the seas still managed to look excited, rather than angry, and when the sun poked through the clouds, it shot brilliant shafts of light down that looked like something from one of those awesome 1980s oil paintings you see over your grandparents' couch.

When the afternoon got late, and the wind kicked up, we headed back upstairs and got ready for the welcome party that PokerStars had for all the participants and staff. Before the party, I had a meeting with all the Team PokerStars members, and met 2005 WSOP Champion Joe Hachem for the first time. I didn't think it was possible to meet a poker player who is nicer and more friendly than Greg Raymer, but Joe is just as amazing as Greg is, and just as patient and kind to legion of fans who want a piece of him. After the meeting, I picked up Anne, and we walked with Greg, Joe, Isabelle Mercier (sigh), Lee Jones, and several of the PokerStars staff over to the welcome party.

The party was held poolside on this place they call The Royal Deck, because it sits in the shadows of the luxurious Royal Towers, and there was live music, lots of food, and enough open bars to keep a bunch of rowdy poker players happy. Dan Goldman took the stage after we'd all been there about thirty minutes, and introduced all the people who worked so hard to make this tournament happen. If I recall correctly, he said something like, "To make this happen, it takes six months of planning, three months of work, and two weeks of complete panic." One of the many reasons I'm so proud of my affiliation with PokerStars is because I get to work with people like Dan and Sharon and Lee, and too many other hardworking people to count, who really care about their players. I know I've talked about it before, but I don't know if I've written about how much it feels like a big family. I'm exceptionally lucky to be part of this company.

After the staff introductions, Dan introduced the members of Team PokerStars, minus Chris and Evelyn, who had flight issues, and after Joe made a brief speech where he said, "There are only two rules: when I raise, fold. And when I go all-in, fold." Ah, poker humor. While it lacks the subtlety of "pull my finger" jokes, it certainly makes up for it with the obscurity normally reserved for Monty Python jokes.

We all ate and drank (just water and juice for me, thanks) for a few hours, and I managed to, while completely sober, drop an entire 16 ounce cup of cranberry juice on the ground while talking with Terrance Chan and his girlfriend Jacqueline. Awesome. We also finally met Otis' wife, Mrs. Otis, which confirmed that poker bloggers always marry up. I don't know how we do it, but I'm glad we do. I also met a few people who were fans of my blog, my books, and my acting work, which is always cool, because I still feel out of my league at these things, and I'm always terrified that someone's going to figure out that they actually meant to recruit a different WIl Wheaton for Team PokerStars. I resolve to accept that I deserve to be at the next thing, whatever it is, and quit doubting my abilities as a player, and my legitimacy as a member of the team.

After the party, Anne and I were still hungry, so we ate in that Cafe place again, mostly because it was close, open, and we knew there were things on the menu we liked, before we turned in early enough for me to fall asleep before midnight, wake up at 12:30, and toss and turn until 5AM. When the alarm went off at 8:45, I felt like I had gremlins gnawing on my head and spikes shoved into my back, but I drank some coffee, ate a muffin, and shook it off in time for my interviews at 10:00.

The weddings below me are in full-swing, and the sun has dropped beneath the lowest bank of slowly-drifting clouds, flecking their edges gold and painting the horizon orange and red. I'm going to take this down to the PokerStars office so I can use their Internets to post it.

Next time: The Tournament. (For those of you who can't wait, check out Otis' updates at The Official PokerStars Blog.)

January 05, 2006

greetings from atlantis

Our flight to Miami was about as pleasant as a red eye can be, with the notable exception of Baron von Kicksalot, who sat behind me, and guaranteed that I didn't sleep for more than thirty minutes at a time. I have this foggy memory of spinning around and snarling at him somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico, after which the kicking stopped, but I could have dreamed the whole thing, so don't hold me to it.

We had a brief moment of panic during our approach, when the pilot aborted just before touch down, and raced into the sky to circle the field. While everyone on the plane wondered if we were all doomed, he told us that the runway had become obscured by fog, there was nothing to worry about, and we'd just need to make a different approach to a safer runway. As we circled Miami, I kept telling Anne, "This looks just like Vice City!" That extra time, added to the 70 minute delay we had before we left LAX, made us miss our connection to Nassau. After another, less brief moment of panic, Anne and I made it onto the very next flight as standbys (and thank gods we did, because if we'd missed it, we'd have been stranded in Miami until at least that evening, and possibly until the following morning.)

The flight to the Bahamas was amazing and nearly-perfect: the skies were clear, the water was sparkling and various shades of blue and green, and I kept feeling like I was watching a giant game of Pirates, but I spared Anne any of the talk like a pirate day lingo I'm so fond of, in favor of whistling the song from Pirates of the Caribbean. Anne is fast earning the title, "dear and patient wife."

We landed, picked up our bags, and had one of the most terrifying taxi rides, ever. We drove through downtown Nassau, which is right near the port, and was swarming with tourists from four different cruise ships. There was terrible traffic, and I learned that taxi drivers here like to do this style of driving called "speed up until your passengers are certain they are going to die in a horrible crash, then slam on the breaks inches before you hit the car in front of you." There is another style of driving they have here called, "change lanes without signaling or looking and honk the horn, man!" Our driver was a master of both.

We arrived at the hotel thirty or so harrowing minutes later, and checked into our room, which was a few stories above and open stage, where a band played covers of songs like "Ladies Night," and "Electric Slide," and the ever-popular "It's Raining Men." I quickly asked for and received a room change to a quieter side of the hotel.

After a quick nap, Anne and I set out to explore Atlantis. WOW. Everywhere you go here, there are aquariums, filled with the most amazing marine life you'll ever see: countless sting rays and reef sharks, huge groupers, manta rays with fifteen-foot wing spans, and schools of tuna and barracuda. This place is huge, too. It takes twenty minutes just to walk from one side to the next, and that's without stopping to stare open-mouthed at one of the aquariums, or to just look around and marvel at how lucky we are to be in such a beautiful place.

We ate dinner in this place called "The Cafe," which is in a huge atrium, with one wall formed by one of the largest aquariums in the resort. I nearly choked on my dinner more than once when a giant shark or manta ray glided through the water just past us.

Though there was much more to see and do after dinner, we made our way back to our room, collapsed into bed around ten, and slept with the windows open for fourteen hours.

More later . . .

January 02, 2006

so this is the new year

Happy 2006, everyone!

Anne, the kids, and I spent the day on New Year's Eve with all of my friends, playing nerdy games (Frank's Zoo is one of my new favorites) and eating all sorts of awesome food, because several of my friends have developed a passion of cooking in the last few years -- if you can convince your friends to fall in love with cooking, go for it. Trust me, I know what I'm taking about. Then we headed home, (to beat traffic, rain and drunks) and rang in the new year by playing the Pop Culture edition of Trivial Pursuit (it's really fun, and the easiest of all the Trivial Pursuit variants, IMHO) while Ferris and Riley tried to figure out just why the hell we weren't in bed, yet.

Yesterday, Ryan and I spent much of the day watching the Twilight Zone marathon on Sci-Fi. Gods, I love the Twilight Zone. I love it that I can count on every episode to either terrify me, make me think, or blow me away with some unexpected twist. I saw some episodes yesterday that I'd never seen before, in addition to the usual line up of Twilight Zone classics.

The Rose Parade, which usually happens on New Year's Day, happened today instead, because Jan 1 was on a Sunday. It was the first time since 1955 that there's been a massive storm on the parade, which meant that for the first time in several years, the stealth bomber didn't buzz over my house and scare the shit out of my family. If you can catch the parade on HD, it's worth it.

Today is a busy day for Anne and me, because we're leaving on the red eye tonight to go to the Atlantis resort on Paradise Island in the Bahamas for the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure poker tournament.

While we're down there, I'll do my best to provide daily tournament updates, similar to my WSOP updates, at CardSquad.com. I'll also do my best to update interesting personal stuff here.