'Bottoms up'

So I find myself back in sunny Los Angeles, having had a nice little winning trip to Vegas, I even won the customary sore throat from the disgusting old fool who decided to cough in my face at the table. My immune system has always managed to keep most things at bay, however for future trips to LV, I will re-evaluate my strategy and be better prepared. Vitamins and these new squirty germ killers are essential when surrounded by such a bunch of degenerates. (will probably not bother with the spa again to be honest, I'm sure I kept seeing that Texan lurking round corners)
Having come 6th in my turbo tournament for a modest return, I thought I would entertain myself with a little cabaret. In my book, there is no better entertainment, than the female form prancing around the place with no clothes on. I think gentlemen's clubs are jolly good fun, but can be a bit rowdy and crass at times so I bought myself a bottle of claret and headed to the Crazy Horse from Paris. Well, I tell you what, twenty of the finest female shapes on the planet bouncing around made for a bloody good hour or so. All done with a little 'va va voom', as only the French know how (No wonder Sarkozy is such a pervert, I think he and I would get on like a house on fire).

This particular act all you could see was hands, legs and derrières... rearly good (guffaw)

The good news is, I'm starting to cut quite a distinct figure now, with my fine arrangement of whiskers, and new hair cut. This was somewhat forced upon me as I kept being likened to this chap Borat, so in rather desperate fashion I went to see Jack the barber. Anyhow, Jack soon sorted out the birds nest of a barnet I had and with a little help from some product it no longer looks like it belongs to Kazakhstan's finest export. 

The good thing about cutting a distinct appearance is that people tend to suppose that you might be distinct. Never one to blow my own trumpet, and I would never introduce myself as 'Lord F', but in a Harris tweed jacket (finest cloth in the land) with suitably arranged facial hair it would be easy for someone to presume I was related to Royalty (I'm never going to discourage this kind of presumption, after all, if you go back far enough I'm certain we are, albeit French royalty. Mind you our Queen has German ancestry so Royalty is royalty. Enough said)

Anyway, where am I going with this, oh yes. Cue complimentary tickets to the Cirque du Soleil from the manager of the MGM, as 'we are trying to appeal to a more sophisticated guest'. Couldn't agree with you more old chap, and shows like the 'Ka' will only help with that. 

Gone are the circus days I remember with a juggling clown, tiger on a leash and some gypsy trying to pinch your wallet. This was a jolly impressive array of dancing, swinging from the roof, sword fighting and death defying stunts which even an old cynic like me loved. I would recommend to all and look forward to seeing my next 'Cirque', although the Tarzan looking chap in nothing but a diamanté cod piece flying overhead, was a little much after a heavy dinner.

I thought the MGM was a great hotel to stay in, with some of the best restaurants I have ever eaten in (slip $20 in your passport for the check in girl and free room upgrade should follow,you might need British accent too). 

As always folks 

Be lucky

Lord F

What happens in Texas, should bloody well stay in Texas.

I apologise for my lack of posts this week, I really must get myself a new laptop. This iPad device is quite tricky to type on, when you have have big fingers like mine.
You will be pleased to know that I made it up to Vegas in one piece, although not without getting stuck in a traffic jam in the Mojave desert. The car thermometer peaked at 108 degrees and I'll be honest it looked a hellish place to be stuck. Myself and Prince Michael from the East end busied ourselves at words with friends to pass the time. (I'll have to give him a few games soon, because at $10 a game I don't want to lose him!)

There is one thing any grown adult who has been to Sin City will tell you, when you are here you just walk around and smile. It is obscene, opulent, extravagant and ridiculous all in one, and is still possibly the best place on earth.
I haven't fared too badly at the tables, although have won nothing major. The fabulous news was that whilst I was lying by the pool/sitting in the spa, Michael was winning the Holdem and coming 4th in the Omaha tournaments. Alas I hear you say, Lord F how is this good for you???? Well my friends we had exchanged a nice little percentage prior to arrival and what a sweetener that has been.

On a slightly Sourer note, whilst in the spa I got chatting to a nice elderly chap from Texas. I discovered that he was a farmer, and obviously my farming background meant we could have a good natter about the cattle trade. When he asked me if I would like to go out for dinner with him, I goddamn choked on my water.
'not my cup of tea, old chap, I'm afraid. I only bat for one team, and it ain't that one'
I mean have you no shame old man?? Not a day younger than seventy years old and propositioning a man 40 years younger than yourself. I made a hasty bloody exit, I tell you, and it was almost as if he was hiding round every corner of the changing room as I attempted to stealthily get dressed away from prying eyes.

I must admit, each to their own, and hats off to his brazenness. I suppose the sight of Lord F in a towel is just too much for some to resist....

On that note I must leave you to get back to the tables. I'm sure there will be a few more tales on my return,

Viva Las Vegas

Lord F

Quintessentially British

In a brief nostalgic moment, as I brewed myself a nice cup of Tea this morning, I thought I would introduce my American friends to some of the great things we of the Queen's country enjoy which are not so easily accessible this side of the pond.
I for one am a stickler for a good brew. Don't be fooled by these impersonation Teas, whether it be green, or red or white(how the devil do you have a white tea, surely that's someone pulling the wool over your eyes?). A cup of 'black' tea with a splash of milk. If it was good enough for Queen Elizabeth I, Churchill and King Charles II then it's good enough for me, rumour has it we colonised India for the stuff, mind you, would their economy be where it is now without the guidance of us Brits back in the day? I doubt it.
What with all this talk of India and tea, it seems like a great time to introduce the most English of sports, Cricket. With all the hustle and bustle of American sport, the serenity of a game of cricket might be a tough one to follow for our high speed American fellows. I mean how can a game possibly last for 5 days and there still be no winner? How can a sport incorporate lunch and Tea as part of its playing guidelines? Well, let me tell you, that there is no better time to have a cup of tea and a scone, with lashings of whipped cream and strawberries, than in the Tea break of a game of cricket. Picnics around the boundary with the therapeutic thump of leather on willow, whilst basking in the afternoon sun in the English countryside is a fabulous way to spend a summer afternoon.
The English food has a terrible reputation amongst our distant cousins from the USA, still now I meet people who are all to hasty to rubbish the quality of the English cuisine, and quite unjustifiably so. Maybe 15 years ago when 'Pub grub' consisted of frozen ready made meals, with a bit of wilting garnish on the side, they had a case. Recently the emergence of great British Chefs has transformed our cuisine. There is nothing quite like a roasted leg of Romney Marsh lamb, with roast potatoes, broccoli, dwarf beans and parsnips lavishly coated with gravy, no matter what climate or country you find yourself in. In fact, whether it be a steak and ale pie, bangers and mash, fish and chips or a roast dinner itself, if its well cooked I would take it over nearly any other worldwide cuisine. Just ask Lady F, who happens to be one of the best cooks I have come across, regularly getting 8 and 9 out of 10 for her meals (I don't issue many 10's for fear of breeding complacency).

So there you have a little insight into Blighty my friends. The beauty of the things I have just told you I love about England (of course there are more), is I can get them here (bar the cricket maybe, although I did notice a Compton Cricket Club on the interweb which I might investigate for another post).
As I finish another fine cup of Yorkshire tea, whilst watching the end of the cricket on TV, I must bid you farewell and head out to Sin City.

As always be Lucky

Lord F

Viva Las Vegas

I'm delighted to say the mutt has gone, and whilst I desperately tried to like/be nice to the little bugger, I found it difficult. It was a very interesting mindset I found myself in. Effectively, I think there were two contributing factors in the now famous 'Rage of Lord Furnival'. Firstly, I was on edge from busting myself out of a competition, although I like to think I had a lid on it, and secondly the fact that Lady F decided not to ask me about homing the hound (she knew I would say no). I wonder how this would have all gone down had I scooped the first prize of $65,000 and strolled in as chipper as a teenager in a harlot's den. In any case, she thinks I over-reacted, I think I was well within my rights. She then tells me that it wasn't piddle I trod in barefoot, it was its number 2 - cleaned up. I rest my case.

The long awaited debut of Lord Furnival in Las Vegas is imminent. I have decided to take a trip to the MGM Grand next week to play some tournaments out there. I had a pretty successful time of things last week, 'cashing' in three of the four tournaments I played in, although all very modest amounts rather frustratingly. I have decided to adopt the attitude that a cash is a cash, and it effectively allows me to play my next set of tournaments for free, my goblet is half full I tell you.
I am very much looking forward to the trip into the desert, there is something about the place that sends a shiver to the spine. I'm sure its from all the poor souls who found themselves buried in the desert, for one misdemeanour or another. Whilst there I shall resume my golf course battle, with one of the toughest blighter's to win a dime from. Haggling for a shot or two with him is like trying to get blood out of a stone, and he shows no remorse as he collects on the 18th green; merely smirks and quips to infuriate one further. Well, heed this warning the Squire of Sin City, this time I'm out to get you.

Be lucky

Lord F

Thunder and lightning, very very frightening.

So I thought it rather apt that I keep my titles in line with my 1970's and 80's music legends, and to tell the truth it about sums up my mood for the last 18 hours (and apparently my new look makes me resemble that handsome fellow Freddie Mercury).
There I was, in full regalia, with 40 players left in the Hollywood Park $250,000 tournament. I'm not one to blow my own trumpet, but I was the best player left although a little short of chips and in my mind had begun calculating what I might do with the $67,290 first prize.
It folds to the button, and a suspicious looking chap, who incidentally raised his last button too, puts in a bigger than average raise. HA, thinks I, he's up to no good, nice little re-raise all-in, should put an end to his mischief and pick me up 35% more chips.
He called quicker than I could say 'All in' and I knew I was doomed (I had K5 for the record, and for all my alleged good player reading skills, I read that one like a Chinese book). In a fashion typical of Lord F, I rose from the table shook his paw and said 'Ah, a pair of Jacks, very nice hand sir' and went to collect my $775.
As I drove away contemplating my move, I decided from a statistical point of view, I quite liked it and I wasn't in too much of a grump. Fast forward five minutes and I was seething.
Allow me to introduce Lady Furnival. A real beauty, some might say English rose, and I would be tempted to agree and am the first to admit that I got lucky with that catch.
She understands me very well, and had gone through the following calculations/musings:

• He will be gone for at least 8 hours so I will go to the dog adoption centre for a look.
• When at the dog adoption centre gets offered a mutt for two days.
• Thinks to herself, he will be back late and will have won so will be in a good mood, and that poor creature looks so unhappy I will do a good deed and give it some love.
• disregards the fact that the landlord doesn't allow pets and returns home with said mutt.

However the reality was as follows. I get knocked out and am teetering on the edge of fury, she tells me she has adopted a dog for two days, cue the red mist. 

'What in the devils name are you thinking woman?! They stink like a sewer (and it does), If the landlady found out we could lose our lease not to mention deposit(nosey neighbour three doors down is bosom buddies with our landlady), and why the hell was I not consulted prior to this moment of madness???(after all it is my house too)' 

Well, it was all I needed to send me into a right temper, and I just couldn't think how on earth I was going to get out of it. I didn't want to drink myself into a stupor and hitting golf balls just wan't going to cut it. So I just steamed. Steamed some more, went to bed, steamed a little bit more and woke up feeling tip top.

It's a new day, I prune my whiskers and off to the golf course I shall head prior to another tournament this evening. I was fiddling away with my Ipad as I walked down the stairs, and landed my bare foot right in the middle of a puddle of dog piddle. 

Rather wisely neither she, nor the mutt were around and next time I wake up that bloody thing had better be gone.

A grumpy 

Lord F

Take a chance on me....

I was having a good chin wag with the Earl of Chestfield recently and it got me thinking about ones decision making process. I am impulsive and believe firmly in fate. Given a situation where I have to make a decision I will go with my instinct and deal with the consequences(if there are any) afterwards.
Every decision is a gamble, but each one has different odds. Some folk, will deliberate over a decision for months if not years, will try and do as much research as possible to ensure they make the correct decision in the end. The Earl has never been known for his hasty decisions, and what he is trying to do is give himself the best chance at making a correct decision. Sometimes old bean, I think the research makes the odds worse rather than better and the first instinct will be the right one.

I have recently made a big decision. I sold my property, and I moved to this fine land. How long did I deliberate over this? around 10 minutes. I had to consult with the people in my life who this would directly affect, and then off to market it went. (The Earl thought I was a fool)

So why do people procrastinate.

CHANGE. People are scared of change. They like to know where things are in the store(95%), they like to know they will earn x per month in their existing occupation(90%), they like to know where the nearest wench they can rattle is(30%) and they like to know where the local Inn is and what scran they can expect when they get there(60%).
It is definitely a Gamblers prerogative to consider the positives rather than the negatives of a decision. I never think 'how much will I lose here', I will always think 'how much could I win'.
Thinking back there are very few decisions that I made in the spur of the moment that were regrettable. Maybe a dalliance or two, or there was a time when few sharp words landed us in a scrape, but nothing that the Earl and I couldn't wriggle our way out of.

It is only early days but I love America. The people are so jolly(not just the ones who want something), the sun shines 6 days out of 7, there is a 50 mile coastline on my doorstep, there is 24 hour poker in five different casinos all within a stones throw and I'll be dammed if the Yankee damsel's don't have the biggest breasts in all of the lands(must by something in the water).
I'm sure there are negatives, but because I'm still so excited by the positives I don't see them or they don't yet rile me.

In the words of Sweden's most famous export, 'Take a chance' fellows and you will reap the rewards.

Be Lucky

Bubbling Hot

The thing about poker, is it is one of few sports where you can play perfectly, not make one mistake, not put a foot out of place and still end up losing. This is why it is such an emotional roller coaster and the ability to control ones temper is imperative to prevent making mistakes further down the line. Now whilst I do have an extremely long fuse, and very rarely do I need to lose my temper to make myself heard yesterday was a testing time indeed.
Having sat in the same seat for 6 hours, whilst 112 players had fallen by the wayside I found myself with 11 players left in a tournament, 10 of whom would finish 'in the money'. In poker terms this is known as the 'bubble', and is without doubt the most irritating place to end up. Good players change their play around this time to put other players to the test, because they know most people want to get some return for their endeavours, and try and hang on for the bubble to burst. Other players are just idiots.
I don't really blame the guy for moving all of his chips in with Ace, 4 because most of the time he will have the best hand and he wasn't a good player, but when I look down at Ace, King I couldn't push my chips in quickly enough. The problem with his play (and I had been lurking in wait for him to make this mistake because he had done it time and again), is that he was 3rd overall in chips and I was 4th. He didn't need to risk such a large portion of chips when he was going to be at best a 25% chance to win the pot, if I called him. The bottom line is, it was a perfect spot for me had the poker gods been smiling on me.
Needless to say the first card out was the 4 of hearts, one of three in the deck he could have hit to win the pot and I had to bite my tongue in gentlemanly fashion and scarper for the door, with a return of $0 before I said anything I might regret. I don't smoke and nowadays lashings with a cat o' nine tails has gone out of fashion, so I need a temper abating solution. I might try a pipe, because you can get some wonderfully fruity flavoured tobacco.

Be luckier than me

Lord F

The Glamour

I'm sure many of you are thinking, surely a Lord would only play in the best establishments across the world.
The poker rooms must have beautiful gaudy décor and crystal chandeliers, and the notoriety of opponent must range from the Count of Monte Carlo and the Duke of Westminster to Baron Von Rothschild.

Lord F supping his favoured tipple, a Whisky sour which was hand crafted by the hands of a beautiful model, being spoon fed oysters and caviar, as she giggles at his endless wit and charm. Using his cunning to get a few 'hectares from the estate' or the Aston Martin keys 'thrown' into the pot.

It's an illusion I don't want to discourage my readers from having,

                      Baxter contemplates chucking the keys to the Bentley into the pot

AH... I didn't see this

I may not have been quite so enthusiastic to save my $4 had I seen this sign! Oh, and my tips for the Masters should be each way, if its not too late.

Shake, Rattle and Roll

There seem to be two things in this world which one can be really bad at, but still enjoy. Sex and Golf. What better week than the US Masters to write my first post regarding this fabulous past time. (I know Tiger is back but I'm talking about golf)

One of the fantastic things about this splendid country is the pride that people take in their jobs (because of the tipping culture), and it is for this reason I believe that the golf courses are in better condition than their counterparts elsewhere in the world. Of course I think the climate also plays a big part, it must be harder to have carpet perfect fairways, if said fairway spends three months of each year under either snow or water.

Golf is a fantastic sport to bet on, because if so inclined, there are hundreds of opportunities to gamble in each round. On the flip side, unless you know the people you are playing against it is fraught with danger, because people don't necessarily tell you how good they are. 

I did manage to find myself in a real dilemma out there in Rustic Canyon. From one of my stray tee shots with my usually reliable three iron my ball headed deep into the brush. Us British are a resilient lot, and rather than surrender my pro V 1 ball($4) to nature, I grabbed my longest club and strode off into the undergrowth. With a keen eye and a little bit of luck I spotted my ball and had just started wriggling through to it when I heard a sound I had not heard before, but it sure as hell stopped me in my tracks. A rattle. 

Quick process of elimination told me it wasn't a babies toy, and there is only one thing really that I am petrified of, snakes (good only for shoes, handbags and belts). From my frozen position I managed to locate the noisy bugger, about three feet to the right of my ball and we had a good old fashioned stare off. It won, as I rather hastily backtracked through the undergrowth and declared that ball lost.

Needless to say the chap whom I played with, who had 8 pars and a birdie from a handicap of 18, won the round and I returned home with considerably lighter pockets than I arrived with. I shan't mention his name for fear of curtailing his action around the course, but will most certainly be playing with him again as he is a thoroughly nice chap.

From this next paragraph I don't want any of you complaining if my predictions are not 100% accurate, after all I am only human and expect to be somewhere around 97% mark.

As most of you will know it is the Masters 2012 so here are a few each way tips to make your viewing that bit more exciting. I think it is too soon for Tiger, who after winning one tournament is immediately the bookies favourite. I like Angel Cabrera (mainly because he likes fine wine, steak and cigars) at 80/1, Steve Stricker at 50/1, Hunter Mahan at 34/1 and KJ Choi at 70/1.

Be Lucky fellows

Lord F

Quotes to live by

Here are a few quotations to ponder:

Oscar Wilde
"anyone who lives within their means shows a serious lack of imagination"
"always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much"
"genius is born, not paid"

John Hay
"true luck consists not in holding the best cards at the table; luckiest is he who knows when to rise and go home"

T.S.Elliot
"only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go"

Voltaire
"each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game"

Rest and Recuperation

As many of you will know, the key to being on top of your game comes from being in optimum mental condition (although I rarely stray from this mindset). Having had a somewhat frustrating week at the tables, I thought I would let my hair down and take in some sport.
Sword fighting, Jousting and jesting whilst having my goblet refuelled by buxom wenches was just what the doctor ordered. 

A dozen goblets of ale later, my pockets lined with crisp green-backs thanks to the victorious blue knight and a wench on my arm seemed to straighten the mind out no end.

Back to the tables tomorrow (hic)