Author: Wil

From time to time, I really enjoy a nice grilled cheese sandwich. Melt a bit of sharp cheddar (Tillamook extra sharp is my favorite, if I can find it here in LA — there’s some embargo which usually prevents anything better than plain old sharp from making it to our stores) and dip it in a spot of French’s plain old yellow mustard before each bite, and I am a happy, happy guy. (I just wrote "man," then erased it. Then I wrote "dude" and erased that and tried "man" again. Then, I wrote "Dennis," which made me laugh really hard. Then I settled on "guy."

So. I’m trying my very best not to get some sort of unhappy cold thing which currently involves a whole lot of coughing and this weird heaviness in my chest. It started after the 5K yesterday, and by last night it required the use of some Advil. Today, I’ve mostly felt like shit, but this afternoon, my body said, "Hey! You there! Old Woman!"

Nah, I’m just kidding. I really want to go into a whole Holy Grail quote-fest, but this entry is already far too silly.

My body said, "Hey, guy, dude, dennis, man, dude, manguy, guymanndude, guy, I want a grilled cheese."

"Whatever you say, Mr. BIllboard," I said.[1]

I grabbed two pieces of the best bread ever, which is called Sheepherder’s Bread (it comes from Trader Joe’s.) Then I grabbed two slices of Tillamook sharp cheddar and shook my fist Northward at whoever is preventing the extra sharp goodness from making its way to my door. I decided that since I’d be burping cheese the rest of the night (gross!) I may as well burp ham and cheese, so I grabbed some ham out of the meat drawer and put it on the bread and closed the whole thing up. Then, I did something really white trash: instead of butter, I sprayed some cooking spray on the pan . . . and on the bread, too.

I know. Gross. Deal.

So I turned on the burner, and began turning this mass of meat, bread, cheese, and cooking spray into the glory which is a grilled ham and cheese.

Until, uh, I forgot to turn the heat down after a second, and the bread charred a little bit.

No worries, I thought, I’ll just flip it over, turn the heat down, and when it’s time to eat this bitch, I’ll do it after-school-1982-style: scraped with a knife into the sink. Yeeeeaaargghh!

I flipped it, turned down the heat, and walked to the dining room hutch to get a plate. When I came back into the kitchen, there was far too much smoke coming off the skillet to be good.

I learned an important lesson: spraying with cooking spray may be easier than slathering with butter, but it burns at a much lower temperature than butter does, which results in an after-school-1979-style grilled ham and cheeese: scraped with a knife into the sink, with most of the cheese still cold and unmelted except at the edges. And the ham is lukewarm too.

Not even the mustard could save it, and I’m burping ham and cheese for nothing.

[1] After the abomination that was last night’s sad attempt to do a tired old parody of My Fair Lady, I hereby announce that The Simpsons has leaped the shark, and harpooned it from orbit. AAaayyy.

via Bruce Schneier:

More on Port Security

From Defective Yeti:

Sark Defends Port Deal

Sark today sought to quell the growing controversy over his decision
to grant the MCP control of several major ports throughout the region.

"I believe that this arrangement with the Master Control Program
should go forward," Sark told reporters aboard Solar Sailer One. He
emphasized that security would continued to be handled by Tank and
Recognizer programs, with the MCP only be in charge of port operations.

But Dumont, guardian of the I/O towers, voiced skepticism. "I could
understand ceding authority over ports 21 and 80," said Dumont. "But
port 443? That’s supposed to be secure!"

The public’s reaction to the plan has also been overwhelmingly
negative. "No no no," said a bit upon hearing the news. "No no no no."
Others were more blunt. "Sark should be de-rezzed for even proposing
this," said Ram, a financial program.

Sark, who has repeatedly denied having ties to the MCP, has insisted
that the hand-over go through, and says that he will vigorously resist
any effort to block it. But programs such as Yori are equally adamant
that the deal be scuttled. "My User," she said, "have we already
forgotten the lessons of 1000222846?"

Anne and I ran in the Race for the Cure at the Rose Bowl yesterday. It was a perfect day for a run: mostly cloudy, not too humid, and around 65 when we started. I haven’t run very much the last year, thanks to this stupid chronic pain in my right hip (the Miracle Balls are helping a lot. I’ll write about that another time) but I’ve been jogging and walking almost every day for the last couple of weeks, so I was able to run the entire first mile, about half of the second mile, and about 2/3 of the last mile for a time of 35:21. It’s not my best 5K time, but considering how little training I’ve done, I’ll take it. Anne jogged the entire way, and she finished right around 38:00. Go Anne!

I don’t know for sure, but I think I heard that there were about 17000 people walking and jogging in celebration of and in memory of their loved ones who have fought breast cancer. I remember this from the Avon 3 Day, the Rock N Roll Marathon, and the Race for the Cure last year: there are people of all ages, at all levels of fitness, who are walking, running, and jogging with the names and pictures of people they love pinned to their clothes, and it is impossible to be unaffected by them.

A few WWdN:iX readers sent some small contributions to me, which I’ve collected and will pass on to the Susan G. Komen foundation later this week. If anyone else wants to be added, you can send whatever you’d like to my paypal address (it’s my first name at wilwheaton.net). I’ll add it to the total I send on Friday, and I’ll post the names of everyone who contributes in a special post at the end of the week.

Did you know that 1 in 7 women in America will be diagnosed with breast
cancer sometime in her life? I had no idea it was so common, and I am proud to support the people who help women and their
families, as well as the people who are seeking a cure.

I finished 23rd (or 21st, depending on who you ask) out of 317 players in the WPT Invitational last night, and I was the last "celebrity" player left standing, so I won $10,000 for the City of Hope in Duarte. It was really weird when I did my exit interviews, and they kept trying to get me to say I was the best celebrity poker player. I told them that I was probably the only player in the entire field who hosts two poker tournaments a week at PokerStars, and I owed a lot of my success and confidence to honing my skills online, and discussing the game with the WPBT.

I’m working on a write-up of the event, but this has been a rather hectic morning and I doubt I’ll get a chance to post anything in-depth until later on. Until then, I absolutely have to thank Ryan Kallberg, aka Absinthe, who sent me a Dannenman-esqe strategy sheet that seriously helped me out. In fact, I’m confident that I wouldn’t have made it past the first level of the day without Ryan’s advice and support. There’s a reason he cashed five times in the LA Poker Classic, including a first place finish in event number one. Thanks, Ryan. I owe you several beers.

If you missed it yesterday, and you’d like to retroactively view the action, you can head over to Pauly’s blog, and read the live-updates from last night.

(Photo Credit: Dr. Pauly)

Well, I survived the first day of the World Poker Tour Invitational, and I’ve written up a recap of the day’s action over at CardSquad:

If Maxim did a poker issue, it would be this tournament:
the room is filled with big celebrities, beautiful models, and virtually every poker pro you could imagine. The
atmosphere is more like a party than any other tourney I’ve ever played, and everyone is having a good time.

At the end of day one, there are 98 players left. I am in 68th, with T17500, which is just about half of the average
stack of T32000. BJ has a
complete list of the players and their stacks over at PokerPages, and of course Pauly has the best live blog on the Internets, which includes a ton of
pictures.

I didn’t get many cards to play all day, but when I did, I got paid off nicely. I took a couple of pots from Jason Alexander, and I even busted John Juanda when he ran his KQ into my pocket Aces.

Some of you may have read that I
busted John. This is true, but it’s not as exciting or masterful as you may think. John was crippled when Jason flopped
Broadway for the nuts, and John made aces up on the turn. A few hands later, Daniel Negreanu came running over to our
table with some guy I didn’t recognize, and said to John, "Can you eat ten Saltines in sixty seconds?"

"What?" John said, and everyone else at the table thought.

"Saltine crackers. Can you
eat ten of them in sixty seconds?"

John thought for a second while he looked at his cards.

"Yeah, I think I can," he said.

"Okay!" Daniel said, with a little hop. "Juanda
is my horse! You get half my action, John."

"Let’s do it!" John said, and shoved his last
1000 or so into the pot. It was folded to me, and I figured that the BB and I were calling based strictly on odds and
probably checkint it down. That is, until I woke up with pocket aces.

"I have to raise," I said.
While I thought about what amount would get the BB to maybe call with something that I could survive, he folded J2o
face up.

"Go ahead and play it out," he said. "I’m not playing this."

I
flipped up my aces, and John flipped up KQ. I flopped an ace, busted John Juanda, and ended up with about 16K after the
whole thing was said and done. John and I shook hands, and the WPT cameras captured the whole thing. Daniel was putting
on quite a show for them, calling for cards and stuff, and it was pretty funny, so it stands a good chance of making
the broadcast, especially if I make it deep today.

I have a tough table today, with Scott Fischman immediately to my left, but I also know that I essentially have one steal, and after that it’s push-or-fold time. If you’re interested in tracking my action, Pauly will be live blogging me and the rest of the field at Tao of Poker.