In Other News...

I just resigned from my position as Director of Sales at the company I work for. My boss was surprisingly gracious and offered to keep me on in a straight commission capacity. So that's good. He's got something of a temper, so I thought he may have me escorted from the building. Apparently, I will still be working here in some capacity. Even from Wisconsin.

Our realtor is coming over to the crack house home for a final walk through, so hopefully the sign will be up by Friday.

Things is progressin' most rapidly.

Wish me luck. It's a pretty scary place to be.

Memorial Day Weak End

What a weekend it's been. Hard, hot, exhausting physical labor around the Casa del Crack, interspersed with poker.

In a 1/2 hour or so, I will begin what will hopefully be the final stage of getting this place on the damn market. I feel like Lance Armstrong, with the Champs Elysee in my sights. I've just finished the grueling trek through the mountains, and now I can coast to victory. I hope. I may need some doping to get there, though.

On the poker side of things, it was a wild three days. I've been trying to get my Titan bankroll back up to some sort of respectable level, and have so far succeeded. I started with a little over $2.00 in it a few weeks or so ago, and through the Swansea SnGs, and .02/.04, 6-max ring games had brought it up to a very nice $26 on Friday.

Then Saturday came.

I did well to start, playing mostly .02/.04 and winning a few bucks here and there. Bubbled out of a Swansea, cashed in another to hold steady. Just basically break-even poker.

It was about 4:20pm, and I had been working in the yard all afternoon was waiting for Smurfette's call at 4:30pm, when I decided to jump up to .05/.10 and play a few hands and test the waters. I was glad I did. I sat down with $10, and quickly turned it into $18. Mostly because of the following two hands.

1. It was the very first hand I was dealt at the .05/.10 table. I was feeling good, and knew the table a bit from watching them play while I was on the waiting list. I just knew I had this hand, right from the time the flop came down. It was gutsy, but paid off:
















Like it said, gutsy. I probably had no business being involved in this hand, but from watching my ppponent earlier, and the way he just checked-called me, I felt I was ahead. Yeah, I pussed out by checking on the river, but had the confidence to call his big bet.

Thoughts? Rants? Congratulatory remarks about how I'm the Braveheart of poker?? Let me know.

The other big hand that paid me off is when I cracked Aces with Kings by rivering a flush. SO. FREAKIN'. LUCKY. It was CJ-like:
















Me likey.

Suddenly, the phone rang, Smurfette was on the line, and I had to leave the table. I played nine hands total in about 15 minutes and made $8.00.

I understand that the hands I scored on were abberations, but it felt good to be on the receiving end of those pots, instead of the donation end.

So, I was up to $34 in my Titan bankroll, had a little spring in my step, and decided to go hang out with some friends. We did a little bar hopping through the greater Robbinsdale, MN area and ended up at a vodka bar conntected to a VFW. There was a bachelorette party inside with only 4 girls (and one guy??) in attendance. They were all very crabby, and I'm not sure what was going on, but the bride-to-be looked almost in tears the whole night. Maybe her fiance had cheated on her. With her head as brutal as it was, it seemed like a good bet.

I ended up up getting pretty toasty on Polaner, and hanging out until just before bar close. I got home, cracked me a crisp, refreshing High Life and fired up the computer to check my email.

And Titan. Of course. I had a good buzz on, was feeling great from my earlier scores, I was invincible!

I dronked off my buy-in.

Sure, it was only $5 at a .02/.04 table, but it was still a big chunk of my Titan roll that I'm trying to get up into the, you know, fifties or something.

Pissed doesn't even begin to describe my feelings. I donated almost all of it to a luckbox who called my big pre-flop raise with aces with 87o. He flopped two pair and took more than 1/2 my stack. He was able to crack anything I had. And he finally knocked me out. After every win, he'd do the old 'lol' routine, which tilted me even more.

I went to bed an angry, bitter man.

Sunday was spent working more around the crack den, when I finally hooked up with Mr. Parx, who was playing on Titan as well. I had played a little here and there during the day, actually winning a bit on PokerStars (that NEVER happens to me), and then donating a big chunck on the .02/.04 tables. Again, I couldn't hit a flop. My kings were cracked no less than four times, and I lost a HUGE pot when a short stack went all in vs. my pocket rockets. What did he go in with? 87s. Again, my aces were cracked by 87. This time by a rivered straight.

Tilt. Tilt. Tilt.

Parx joined me at the table and it was up and down. I had fun though. Parx and I have this thing where I'm the obnoxious table bully and he's the quick-witted clown. Half of our conversations were spent talking about his mother's vagina. Good times, good times.

I busted out and rebought once, and Parx busted out of the 6-max and left to concentrate more on his full .02/.04 table, where he was kicking donkeys and taking names. I was left trying to make $7 to get to even (I was down to $3 already from my second $5 buy-in).

I tightened up considerably, and only really played from position unless I had a monster. I didn't want Sunday to be a total loss after all.

Long story short, I left the table with $10.39, both of my buy-ins recouped and a big .39c profit for the day. W00t.

This was the hand that saved me. Again, a luckbox pull out, but this guy had been bullying the table for awhile with trash (any ace in his hand was good...), so I thought I'd take a stab at it:
















Not optimal, but it put me up huge.

I've haven't played yet today (Monday), instead coming in and writing snippets for this post and cooling off from the 85+ heat that's out there.

Let's hope when I do that it's not truly a weak end to Memorial Day.

Well, HELLOOOO Mr. Washington!

Unlike a certain blogger, I didn't win $9,757.34 last night. Nope. Last night I ended up finishing ahead by one lousy dollar. One smack. Uno dinero. A Washington.

At least I had fun.

After work, I jumped on a .02/.04 NL table and played for a bit. I ended up tanking a bit, and then rallied to go up about .40.

Mr. Parx found me on the girlie chat (by the way, Parx is a master of the 'audibles' on Yahoo IM. Perfectly timed, situation appropriate, and hilarious), so he and I sat down at a poo-flinging Swansea SnG on Titan and played each other (and four other monkeys jumping on the bed).

I ended up taking that one down, even after being outchipped roughly 2-1 when it got to heads up (Monsieur Parx made an unfortunate early exit). I'm getting to be a much better HU player of late. In a multi-handed game, I'm pretty tight-aggressive but will take a risk here and there. When I get HU, I completely switch gears and turn into loose-aggressive boy. And it seems to work. At least at these levels. I can't count the times that I've been a massive chip dog going into heads up, and end up pulling out a win because I'm relentless with my aggression. I think my tight table image throughout the SnG helps with that as well.

Parx and I took a dinner break. I finished eating first, and while I was waiting for him to jump back onto the Barbie chat, I took a stab at two more Swanseas. Not goot. I finished 5th and 3rd. Ugh. I played those two SnG terribly and knew it.

After the SnGs came the great bleeding of 2006. Parx was playing a full table .02/.04 limit cash game and invited me to sit at an open seat. I obliged, bought in for $5, and quickly ended up pissing away about 1/2 of it.

Seriously. Limit. WTF? I just don't understand it. I understand that it's the best way to grind your way to a bonus, but to try to make some money? For me, it's unpossible. There's no real aggression. Sure you can raise and re-raise, but when it's capped, what then? It seems like it's impossible to push people off hands, and it's about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Once I was down to $2.65 left, I jumped ship to a .02/.04 NO Limit table, bought in for $2.65, and started to recoup my losses. Parx came over to join in the fishy fun, and I think he ended up ahead as well. I left the table at exactly $5, the same amount I had started with on the limit table. W00t.

When I signed off of Titan, my cash game profit was at .40, and my SnG profit was at .60, and that's how I ended up a measly $1 winner for the night.

Have a great weekend and go over and congratulate Hoyazo on his big score.

How About Some Poker Content?

Sure! It's been awhile, no?

I had a great run at the tables last night. I was on fire. Literally dumping buckets of water on myself so I wouldn't spontaneously combust.

SnGs played: 3
SnGs won: 3
.05/.10 NL Cash game: +$14.00

Total winnings: $20.00

Total hours played: 2

I'll take $10/hour at the limits I play any day of the week, yo.

My cash game winnings came mostly on one hand. I'm at work and don't have the hand history in front of me, but this is basically what happened (all the cards are correct, I may be off a bit on the bets/raises).

I find KJo in middle position and pop it to $.60, I get the BB to call and one limper.

The flop comes down: KJK rainbow.

Silent Bob, I think I just filled the cup...

Now, how to extract the most money out of this pot? I don't want to just check here, because it will mostly likely get checked around. I decide to min-bet, and hope for a raise. BB calls, Limper pops it to $1.00.

Sa-weet.

I smooth call. BB folds. Turn comes down an 8h. I bet out $2, Limper pops it to $4. I call again. My thinking here, is if he's taking control of the betting, I'm going to let him and call him to the river. When we get there, I'll then take a stab at re-raising and hope he calls. I don't want to scare him off until the end. Correct? Not correct? Let me know your thoughts.

The river is a Jc. He pushes, I instacall, and roughly $13 is shipped my way.

Anyone want to guess what Mr. Limper was holding?

Highlight here for the answer: T8o

Tourist...

Pokery Goodness

I have registered to play in the PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker!

This Online Poker Tournament is a No Limit Texas Holdem event exclusive to Bloggers.

Registration code: 7330476

PokerStars Blogger Tourney Help!

Hi. I'm an idiot.

I somehow deleted the email from PokerStars leading me to the place to put up the banner for the Bloogers Tourney on this here blog.

Could someone email me one of the HTML codes for a banner (reicho3400 at hotmail dot come) or maybe just post it in the comments here?

Thank you. Now back to your regularily scheduled program.

BP

Relax......stupid

There is nothing like having two beautiful children scream "Daaaaaddddyyyyy!!!" and run into your arms, like they've been in the desert for weeks and you're a glass of water. It's amazing how much you can miss something, anything when it's removed from your life suddenly. I knew I missed my wife and kids, but shit, I didn't think it'd be so, so much. It was like I came alive again. I had been walking around like a poker zombie the prior 11 days, but walking into my mother-in-law's house and seeing my wife and watching my kids go nuts when they saw me reversed the zombie effect immediately.

It was a great weekend. Even the drive there was magnificnet. Do you know how beautiful Wisconsin is in the spring and summer? It's no wonder so many Germans settled in central Wisconsin. Lush, rolling hills, pungent farms, ancient buildings and good beer. Really good beer. It must have reminded them of the mother land. My grandparents on my father's side (German/Irish) settled there, raised two generations there, and now I'm heading back to continue their work.

And I'm excited.

This weekend was spent in front of backyard fires, with cold Leinenkugels, Brewers baseball on the TV in the background, and my children running around the yard laughing, playing, collecting pinecones and stealing hugs and kisses from their daddy.

Uber relaxing.

Living in the city, there never seems to be any real relaxation. If you want to relax, truly relax, you go to northern Minnesota or Wisconsin or anywhere to get away from the city. You don't relax here. You run here. Constantly. Work, daycare, dinner, projects, traffic. Work, daycare, dinner, projects, traffic.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

You have to go elsewhere to relax. You have to drive or fly hours from your home to enjoy the finer, simpler things in life. Doesn't that seem a bit ridiculous? It does to me. I'm excited to relax. To find a job that I like or can at least tolerate (without the fate of the company riding on my shoulders), and then come home and enjoy my kids, my wife, my life. I don't get to do that a whole lot right now here in Minneapolis. Well, now that the family is in Wisconsin full time, I guess I only get to do it every other weekend.

And it sucks.

I'm not saying that this move is going to be some kind of traveling show-charlatan-cure-all-elixer, but damn, it's a good start.

Days of our Poker Lives

Hey poker babies, Bloody P has had a craaaazeeee week, and I'm FINALLY leaving to visit my family in Wisconsin in a matter of minutes. This means no posting until at least Monday.

Teh poker has been good lately. Very good. I'm way up and have had some fat and juicy pots (LOLOL!!) in both the cash games and the SnG play.

I thought I'd take a couple of minutes and respond to TripJax's excellent query of our poker lives.

Here goes:

1. What is the biggest mistake people make at a NL table?

Pushing with TPTK in a multi-way pot.

2. What is the biggest mistake people make at a Limit table?

Limit is for pussies.

3. Why do you play poker?

To relax, learn the game, make a buck or two, and cathart.

4. If you weren't playing poker, what would you be doing?

Playing with my kids. I should be doing that anyway, shouldn't I?

5. What is your favorite poker book and why?

Harrington on Holdem, because he is the master. Love the problem sections, too.

6. Who is your favorite poker player and why?

I don't really have a favorite. If I had to pick one, I probably say Jennifer Tilly because of the boobatude.

7. Which poker player do you dislike the most and why?

Todd Brunson. Get a fucking haircut and shave that beard down you fat bastard. You make a gazillion dollars playing poker and it looks like you just rolled out from underneath a pissed soaked dumpster in NYC to play a couple of hands of Holdem(no offense to long hairs, and I sport a beard--not a long one though).

8. Do your coworkers know about your blog?

Absolutely not.

9. What is the most you have won in a cash game or MTT (both live and online)?

Since I play such low limits, it really doesn't matter. I won $20 in a sitting in a cash game on Titan once. MTT's? Probably about $15.

10. What is the most you have lost in a cash game or in one day total (both live and online)?

One day total was about $30.00.

11. Who was your first poker blog read?

Scurvey Dog

12. What satisfies you more, your aces holding up for a big pot or a bluff working for a big pot?

Bluff, baby, bluff! It makes the action junkie in me pop wood when I see that sucker lay 'em down.

13. Why do you blog?

To think about my poker game, and create friendships with others who love the game.

14. Do you read blogs from an RSS reader like bloglines or do you visit each blog?

I use (LOVE) Bloglines, but since I'm a comment kinda guy, I usually hit the main site as well.

15. Would you rather play poker for a living than do what you currently do for a living?

NO. I'm a huge pussy and could NOT handle the swings.

16. Do you wear a tin foil hat on occasion?

Is it shaped like a dunce cap? Then, yes.

17. If you had to pin it down to one specific trait, what does a great poker player have (or do) that separates them from an average player?

Confidence.

18. Is Drizz the coolest person on the planet for naming his baby Vegas?

Well, I named my son Wrigley after Wrigley Field, which I thought was pretty fucking cool. But damn, Vegas is awesome.

19. What is your primary poker goal and are you close to accomplishing it?

To learn, learn, learn. And to gradually step up in levels. I believe that I'm getting there, but still have a long way to go.

20. What is your primary online site and why?

Titan and Noble. Titan, because I shill for them, and Noble because it's the same damn thing. Oh, and I win there.

21. What site do you dislike and why?

Stars. It's not that I don't like Stars, I just can never win. EVER. And don't even get me started on those damn Brogger events. -EV for me. I've decided only to hit up Stars to railbird.

Well, that's it, beetches. Off to Sconie!! Have a great weekend and

Play like a champion today.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Your pilot for our flight to Hartford, CT tonight is Captain Browneye.

No lie. I put my life in the hands of someone named Browneye.

There are WAY too many jokes there...

Gone, Gone, Gone

Off on a whirlwind trip to Hartford, CT for business. I'm back like herpes on Wednesday.

Be good while I'm gone.

Keep the place clean, and NO parties.

Thursday Night Recap

After swinging by a friend's house last night for beers, bison burgers, and boca brats, I came home, painted for awhile and then got itchy for teh pokah.

I fired up Noble, signed up for an SnG, and took it down. So far, so good.

I saw Jordan was on the girlie chat, so I pinged him and he was jonesin' for a hit of some cards, so I took him on a trip into the land of donkeys, AKA the Swansea SnGs on Titan/Noble. I warned him in advance, that these aren't Harrington people. These are people that will take you to the river with any two cards, whether they catch a piece of the flop or not. Jordan won a couple big hands right away with either marginal flop hits or two big cards that he went to town with on low flops. After he won this hand:


He popped up on Yahoo with the succinct and appropriate: "WTF?"

All I could do was laugh. These things are $1.20 to win $4.20 and have helped me chip up my bankroll to a decent level over the past couple of months, to the point where I'm going to jump levels by the end of next week (my bankroll started at about $25).

Long story short, Jordan and I had a last longer bet ($2, twice the buy-in for the tournament), and I won it, getting knocked out in third. I had an M of about -72 and had to push with any two cards. I can't quite recall the hand that knocked Jordan out, but I know it wasn't pretty. So we both sort of sucked it up against the donkeys. C'est la vie.

My favorite part of that tourney was when Jordan raised HUGE against my blinds. I folded and started to flame him in the tourney chat box. He started firing back, and even some guy named "BigDeak" took a couple shots. It was funnier than hell.

Before I knew it was time for the WWdN: Not tourney. It was a blogger bonanza and a damn good time. I like the Not because (no offense to Darval), not that many people show up for it. You'll get 70/80 people at the WWdN, but the Not will bring in roughly 15, so I always feel like I have a shot to get into the money.

But, my results were the same in this beeyotch as they usually are at blogger events: big, fat, fucking, out-of-the-money, your mom has back hair, LOSER.

I know where the hole in my game lies: the chat box. Evil, evil chat box.

Damn, I love me some chat, especially with bloggers. I spend more time reading and responding to what's going on in the lower lefthand corner of the screen, than I do keeping track of my play in the tourney. And I've got the results to prove it.

Sirflexus took me down with KK vs. my TT, and ended up winning the whole thing. *cough*Congrats!*cough*.

After sweating the rest of the table and continuing to chat and binge drink, I noticed Waffles popped onto Yahoo, so I hit him up. He and Veneno were doing the live voice chat thing and invited me into conference.

My laptop has no microphone on it, and I don't have one lying around from my desktop poker machine, so it was a little unnerving to hear these guys talking away and having to type responses. It's really like you're deaf and using sign language when everyone around you is talking away.

At one point I told Waffles that I felt like Helen Keller. He responded by voicechat with probably the funniest and most dead-on impersonation of what I imagine Helen Keller would sound like. Imagine the sound a llama would make by getting taken from behind by an elephant, and you'll get the idea. I was rolling for about 5 minutes straight. Well played, sir.

After sweating Waffles in the $11 rebuy on Stars and watching his JJ run into KK to give him a boot in the ass, it was time for sleep.

All in all, really good and fun night for me. Thanks to all who chatted me up on Yahoo, and for your concern. You all are masters of the universe. Last night really helped keep my mind off of Smurfette and the kids being gone, and gave me a boost after a rough day (hell, rough week).

Have a delicious weekend.

"When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone."

Damn, it's strange being in a quiet house. Most noticeably absent are the 'pat-pat-pat-pat' sounds of the kids feet on the floor. Tiny machine guns running from room to room, screaming and laughing and fighting and crying.

The only sound I hear is the constant, annoying 'meow' of the cat, who I think misses Smurfette and the kids more than I do, if that's possible. He yells at me the minute I wake up in the morning, and starts his tirades again when I get home from work. He stops to nap about 7pm, then wakes up and starts pissing and moaning at me again till I go to bed.

Must. Resist. Urge. To. Kick. Cat.

I'm always glancing up at the clock, half expecting my wife to walk through it after a long day being overly nice to women who have too much money and too little class. It never happens, though, and the minutes start to tick by slower and slower and slower. If there is a hell, it's utter, eternal boredom.

The one thing that keeps me sane is, ironically, the work I have to do on the house...and poker.

I had one hell of a good time at the WWdN tourney last night. Even though I got my ass handed to me early and often, I had a blast railbirding the final table. There was a whole crew there, whooping it up in the chat box. Hell, even Iggy stopped by to chat it up.

I even took $5 off of a guy named Beck on a prop bet when it got heads up between ricoM and Troublecat. I put my money on the cat. Troublecat (a well disguised Absinthe) ended up taking down the tourney and I was happy to see that Beck immediately dropped a sweet Lincoln into my PokerStars account. Five dollah to make you hollah, yo. Thanks, Beck for being a gentleman among degenerates.

At a lonely and boring time like this, it's great for me to be involved in a community of people who share a common interest (teh pokah), and who stop by each other's girl diaries to offer words of encouragement (see comments in yesterday's post). I was floored to wake up this morning and find 10 comments waiting for me, and it made me glad that I started this blog.

On the poker front, I've been playing (cue audience "gasp!") short-handed micro cash games on Noble and Titan. I started at the .01/.02's and .02/.04's, but found that the play is just as god-awful at the .05/.10 tables and you can make a nice tidy profit much quicker. I've been doing very well. I've found that the secret is basically:

fold/fold/fold/find a monster/get paid off/fold/fold/fold/hit the flop hard from checking in the BB/fold/fold/fold/ad nauseum.

Except for a night of dronking off all of my sweet bling-bling with TPWK, I've been a winner everytime I've played, usually doubling or tripling what my daily take in the micro-SnGs were, in a much shorter period of time.

Me likey.

Thanks again to everyone who commented yesterday and today. If anyone is up for a little chat action, or even a dial-a-shot, hit me up on the ubergeigh girly Yahoo chat: reicho3400 (at) yahoo (dot) com

Behold The Power of Cheese

So, here's the thing. We're moving. I've been working as much as humanly possible on our house of late to get it ready to sell. It's been very trying to my patience. All of the shit that accumulates in ten years can be massively overwhelming. Looking at this house of mine is like looking down at pocket aces. You're in love! Except within five minutes they're cracked by someone holding 23 offsuit when the flop comes down 456. That's how much I tilt when I think about all of the 'projects' that are still left to do on this crack den. Hardcore. Fucking. Tilt.

I've alluded to moving before in this blog, and in comments to Stb and Musical Poker, but I've never put the extent of the move down here for fear that someone I work with may read it (not likely). Horror stories of being Dooce'd are always in the back of my mind, but fuck it. If anyone from work is reading this, please keep it to yourself. I have an ASSLOAD of commission coming my way at the end of the month, and goddamnit (Bonus Code: IGGY), I need it.

So, here it is:

I packed up my family this past weekend and moved them from the "big, scary city" (10 points to Griffindor if you can name the movie that comes from) of Minneapolis, MN to tiny, little Portage, WI, population 9K and some change.

Here's the part where the panic attacks come in.

I packed up my wife and two beautiful children and moved them to my mother-in-law's house for three weeks so my wife (who shall now and forever be known as Smurfette only because I think it's funny) can start her new job in Wisconsin Dells. That has been the catalyst of all of this. We've been talking about moving forever, but she found her dream job in the Dells. It's absolutely perfect for her and pays just about the same as her job here in the Twin Cities paid her.

I have been left behind to continue improvements on the house and get the fucker sold. I'm not coping very well with not having the kids around to yell at, and Smurfette around to keep me on task (plus, other things...nudge, nudge,wink, wink, know what I mean?). It's really fucking hard. She, of course, thinks, that I'm going to be deee-lighted with being alone. Nothing could be further from the truth. Just walking into this empty house alone makes me sad enough.

When I do eventually leave my current job and head east, I will have no employment lined up (sales people are hired NOW, not three or four weeks from now), and no place to live (though I'm pre-approved through our bank for an assload more than I thought I'd be).

It's a scary place to be in. No prospects, no home, just hope.

I just crapped the bed.

I'm not a big believer in hope. I'm 100% a glass 1/2 empty kind of guy. My philosophy? It's better to be pessimistic and be pleasantly surprised when good things happen, than be optimistic and get no joy when good things happen, because you expected it all along.

Smurfette made the comment the other night that she hopes our marriage can survive this move. It pissed me off to no end to hear her say it, but after some introspection, I have to say...so do I. I don't adapt to change well. It took me years to get over my mother moving the drying rack in the kitchen sink from the left-hand side to the right-hand side. Don't even get me fucking STARTED on the day we got a new mailbox. Shit went down, I tell you what.

My wife's concerns are well founded. I don't adapt to change well, but I'm the one who wanted this move. For the kids, for me, for our family. But sweet dammit, if it doesn't scare the shit out of me.

This is a life change. This is a BIG DECISION for us. I've lived in this city for 16 years, and though there are things I love, there is a lot to hate. Crime, crime, noise, traffic, and did I mention the crime? We live in a so-so area in the city that is constantly on the news because of the gang violence that happens two or three miles away. And I'm tired of it. Tired of not trusting anyone. Tired of always looking over my shoulder because, even though the crime isn't in my backyard, it's inching towards it.

I want a really nice house (and for what we'll get for 'casa del crack', we can get a doozy in small town 'sconie). A deck. A firepit. A place where, at night, I can sit outside with a beer and listen to...

nothing. No constant hum of traffic, no 8 year old kids screaming 'fuck' at the top of their lungs and proudly exuding what a 'gangstah' they be. I want crickets, and cats fighting in an alley, and bug zappers, and the crack! of wood burning in a chimnea, and people enjoying each other around a grill, and all of the other corny small-town things that I've forgotten exist (that I know exist) and are good and needed and desired.

It really is like that you know. People really do stop over to just to talk when they smell your grill, or see you raking your leaves, or even see you outside catching a smoke. That conversation can turn into dinner that can turn into a small group of friends sitting on a deck talking and enjoying each other, while the crickets chirp and cats fight, bug zappers zap, and fire cracks.

So after all of this pontificating, what does it have to do with poker? This is a poker blog, right?

Here it is:

"It's not always about getting the best hand, it's how you play the hand you're dealt."

And I'm playing this motherfucker to the river.

My Own Personal Lex Luthor

click to enlarge, then check out the player on the button

Superfriends, meet my new arch nemesis.

Losing For Fun

I didn't make a goddamn dime playing poker last night. In fact, I lost quite a bit. Well, quite a bit for me, anyway.

But I had the best time doing it.

The turn out for the Blue Veiner Memorial on PokerStars was a little on the low side, but it was still a hella good time.

Thanks to TripJax for swapping funds with me so I could play last night. I felt bad taking him out during the tourney, but at least I paid him back right away. LOLOL!!!

It was great to play with CL, Hoyazo, President Dave Lee, Miami Don, Carmen, Kat, Mookie, Sniper, and everyone else I forgot to mention (stupid beer). Congrats to Sniper for taking down the tourney (and taking a big, blue veiner! LOLOL!!) and to Mookie and CL for finishing 2nd and 3rd respectively.

After the tourney, I hooked up with Jordan on the girlie chat and we decided to play a Dirty Dozen micro jackpot tourney together on Titan. It was a 12 person, 2 table affair, and we got seated at different tables with T1000.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, we were both down to about 650 chips (Jordan's internet connection kept giving him the aforementioned Cleveland Steamer, and I accidentally hit "call" instead of "fold" when some raised 30x the BB...again, stupid beer).

Since we both had about the same amount of chips, Jordan proposed a last-longer bet of $1. I accepted, figuring I'd be out in about 5 minutes. I was wrong. Jordan pushed at his table not long after and got knocked out. He put $1 in my PokerStars promptly. Honor among theives and all that.

I didn't last too much longer. The blinds were getting big, and I was looking for any two cards. I ended up pushing with ATc (coincidentally, the same hand I bounced with in the Veiner), got called by AKo and a la peanut butter sandwiches, IGHN.

Jordan signed off for the night, so I went back to PokerStars and rail birded everyone playing in the WWdN: NOT tourney for a half hour or so before hitting the sheets. Too. Much. Fun. I seem to remember something about Waffles asking YoSoyVeneno something about strap-ons. Never a dull moment with Waffles in the house.

Thanks to everyone who hung out last night, I had a really great time. I might actually start playing PokerStars more often, just for the community of it all.

Even if I don't make a friggin' penny.

Poker After Dark

Ever since I've started keeping track of my SnG play, I've noticed something that should have been obvious to me. Night time is the right time to play poker. I absolutely crush.

I can break my play down into three timezones (all CDT):

1. 8am-5pm (weekends): I call these the Soap Opera hours. Here, I will money in roughly 2 out of every 5 SnGs I play in. The wins are pretty much split between first and second place.

2. 6pm-9pm: During Prime Time, my take goes up a bit to cashing in 3 out of every 5 SnGs played. Again, going back and forth between first and second place finishes.

3. 9pm-2am: This is Cinemax After Dark (SSC style) and prime fishing hour, apparently. I money in 4 out of 5 SnGs, with 3 out of 4 of my cashes being first place.

The problem I have is that my brain seems to be functioning best between 6pm-9pm. I'm home from work, ready to relax and put the day behind me, I'm more alert, more happy, more energized. To quote Teddy KGB, I'm ready to play some focking cards.

So why do I tend to sodomize the Mini-Me SnGs like the woodsman sticking it to Lady Chatterly only when the sun sets?

Going over it in my head, I've pinned it on two main reasons:

1. Less distractions. The kids are in bed at 9pm, so there's no, "Daddy! I need milk/toys/cookies/handgun" distractions that keep me from making good decisions at the table.

I swear to Jebus that those kids will find any excuse to draw me out when I'm playing. I could sit with them and color or play hide and seek for three straight hours, and as soon as teh pokah machine is fired up, there are more crises that erupt in a half an hour in our house than occur on an entire season of "24".

The wife also tends to fasten her seatbelt, put her tray in the upright position, and prepare for the slow decent into the town of Sleepy Hollow. With the kids tucked away in their compartments and the wife snoring on the couch across from me, there is nothing but the dim light of the TV to distract me.

2. 9pm is when they let all of the kids off the short bus for a field trip to the online poker room. Believe it or not, as soft as the tables at Titan and Noble are, there can actually be some pretty decent play during the day, even at lower levels. I have found ScottM playing micros there, as well as Mr. Parx. I still do pretty well there, but it seems harder to push people off of pots, and the bets are more indicative of "real" poker play (e.g. punishing people chasing draws with pot-sized bets).

After the clock strikes 9pm, it's like a whole new universe. The inmates are now running the asylum. People min-betting all over the place with TPTK, just begging you to play the pot odds to hit your straight, flush, or set. Players pushing with K6o vs. AA, when the aces raised heavily pre-flop. It becomes this magical land where donkeys, alpacas, lemurs, push monkeys and dinosaur catfish with cow's legs can all live in harmony...well, until someone gets crippled and a flame war starts in the chat box.

The point is, these late night table are So. Unbelievably. Loose.

One night last week, I was in sitting at a 6 handed table on Titan with 5 people left, and I was second in chips with only about T1100. Everyone is pretty much even except for the guy who took out the first player. Suddenly, my internet connection decided to take a huge Cleveland Steamer on me. I couldn't log back into Titan for at least 20 minutes.

After much cursing, stomping, and fire farting, I finally was able to log back on. Titan shot me directly to my table where I was suprised to find myself heads up with the chip leader who was min-betting at me (and my "Sit Out" status) to try to take it down. I still had about 300 chips left and started waging war (vs. his T5700). I ended up finishing second, of course, but it was eye-opening.

Last night, another player was a "Sit Out" for almost the entire SnG, and he finised third (I took that biatch down).

What this told me was that once the moon came out, you could basically fold into the money on these micros from the get go. Not that I would do that. I actually enjoy playing. But it can be done.

Pop Quiz, hot-shot:

Is it that these players are more tired? More drunk? Am I playing East Coasters where it's 10pm or 11pm to my 9pm or 10pm? Are the kids kicking off their shifts at Arby's and coming home to play poker? Where does the big difference lie?

I'd like to hear what other people have found to be the best hours to play on the virtual felt, as well as any comments to the above bloviations.

KGB in the Hizzouse!

Drizz put a link up to "European Rounders" today. After checking it out, I went through the comments section (out of sheer cubicle-fever)and stumbled upon this gem:

Click the pic to check it out.

It's pretty damn funny. Here's is Teddy KGB's "Homepage".

This may be old news to some of you, but I've wasted FAR too much time at work today playing with this thing and poking around the website.

Tilting Like the Dickens

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. OK, last night, it was the worst of times. I got put on massive "wife tilt" last night. Fight fight fight. Pick pick pick. Blah blah blah. Back and forth. It tilted the shit out of me.

My wife and I rarely fight anymore. The big ones stopped about 4 years ago when we finally worked out the kinks of living together and figured out each other's little quirks and either dealt with them, ignored them, or called each other out (in a nice way…usually).

We're both stressed beyond belief right now (All of the above is a primer for a post to come in a week or so).

What should a guy do when he's steaming? Why, log onto the junk-kicking machine, of course! I'm a glutton for punishment.

I hopped on Noble, fired up an SnG and got to "work". And by work I mean blog reading, checking the Twins score (a win? a WIN??? WTF? Wow!), dealing with the kids, thinking about the wife and muttering under my breath, cursing God for pulling that rib out of Adam back in the day.

Oh yeah, I'm also playing poker...right. So.

I click back into my SnG to see this:










click to enlarge, and check the girlie chat box.


Hammer, eh? Sweet. I looked over and the name seemed familiar. "Parx". Hmm...Parx. Where have I seen that before.

BloodyP: You know the Hammer, Parx?
Parx: Yes. And I know you, too.

(Yes! My first run-in with my A-list-blogger adoring public!)

Suddenly it hits me, I realize I'm not being blogger-adored, but merely recognized by none other than fellow blogger, Mr. Parx.

Well, shit. Now I actually have to play poker. I tuned out all of the running interference around me and slowly began to chip up. I made a couple of steals, won a few small pots, and got up to a comfortable level.

Then I misplayed Q4s terribly. I played it the way the Rondell White plays the clean-up spot. I played my 4 on a rainbow flop to the river, putting Monsieur Lemur on a flush draw. He didn’t hit his flush, but did end up pairing the board higher than I did to take down the pot. That put my stack back down to life-support. Not to mention the embarrassment of playing down a hand like that with a fellow blogger in the hizzouse…

Then came the great card-dead era. 23o begat 49o begat J2o begat 83s begat 46o. And on and on forever. I was Moses in the desert. I couldn’t find an ace or even a small pocket pair to play. Finally, with an M of about 3, I find K6o and push (shut up…I know). BB has me covered by about 250 chips and calls, as does shorty-short stack who goes all in with his last 120 chips. The flop comes down an orgasmic K6x rainbow, and I more than double up off of Ax and 99. Artful Dodger, indeed.

Finally, Mr. Parx and I took out the last donkpaca and were heads up.

It was a blast. Instead of being a push-monkey fest, we actually played poker. Raising, re-raising, and laying down out of respect for each other’s play.
Towards the endI hit a couple of big hands and had him out-chipped about 3-1. I looked down to find Q4h.

Here’s how the shit went down:
















After he pushed, I looked at the flop, and chatted: "Hmmm, I caught a piece of that."

My gut told me that I was ahead on a flop like that, and that he was probably on a big ace and wanted to represent the 9, but part of me still felt like laying it down. I didn't, and (very luckily) I was right (I narrowly escaped him hitting a wheel, though).

I ended up taking down the SnG, which was nice.

What was nicer than winning, though, was playing some actual poker and chatting with a kindred spirit, instead of fending off a donkey who had just finished watching 23 hours straight of WSOP footage and thought that pushing every hand was status quo.

Nice hand, Mr. Parx!

Nocturnal Emissions

God, that's such a great term, I'm tempted to change the name of this blog to it. "Bloody P's Nocturnal Emissions" kind of has a nice ring to it, yes?

I can't remember who pointed me in the direction of Bloglines (sooted, perhaps?), but I am in teh luv with it. Instead of refreshing Up For Poker a hundred times a day, I have all of my favorite blogs centrally located in one place. Ah...sweet, sweet technology.

But you all probably knew about it already...

No real content today, but tomorrow I'll do a big write up on a hand I played where my aces were cracked by 93 offsuit.

I'm just keeeeeeeeeeeding!