KY (Not the Jelly, Sicko)

Heading back to Wisconsin today. It's Smurfette's birthday. Happy Birthday, baby!!

I'm in Wisconsin till the 4th of July, then early on the 5th, I'm going to knock out a couple of my teeth, buy myself a diaper to run around in, and get a couple of moonshine jugs, cuz I'm packin' up the pick-em-up truck and heading to Kin-tucky for a week to see Mee Maw and Pee Paw!! I'm sure I'll have knocked Smurfette up with triplets by the time we get back.

From the 5th to the 13th, I'll be Cletus P.

YEEEEEEEEE HAW!

Any correspondence can be mailed to:

Cletus P
General Delivery
Kirksey, KY

I reckon it'll be a damn good time.


*Even though it seems like I'm making fun of people from the south, I'm really not. OK, I am, but for chrissakes, I grew up in NORTHERN Wisconsin. Like almost as far north as you can go and still be in the US... I don't understand the southern culture at all. I don't eat grits. Ever. Or hush puppies. And yes, I've tried both. Gimme a nice hotdish any day of the week. My sincere apologies to anyone from the south that I've offended (you hillbilly).

Keeping My Job, Losing My Ass

Remember what it was like when you were a kid and the final school bell rang on the final day of class before summer vacation? Wasn't that a great feeling? Running out the door, realizing that the next 2+ months were yours? Time to run around, hit the beach, play pick-up baseball or basketball games, just fucking HANG OUT??

That's the way I feel right now.

I have basically zero responsibilities. I am a stay-at-home Dad. I am a lazy, sleeping in, no job having slob.

And I'm loving every fucking minute of it.







OK, maybe I'm a little bit bored, but sweet baby jebus...I don't have to go to work tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or the next day.

But, but, but, but, how will you survive you lazy ass bastard on whom I wish a thousand eternal hellfires?

Oh...yes. That. Well, I've got an assload of commission due to me where I can basically pay all of the bills, play all summer, and sock some back.

I had my "meeting" with my former/current employer yesterday and it went swimmingly. I even had the courage to sneak a fart in at one point which my boss and his lackey obviously heard, but chose to ignore. It was a high pitched squeaker that lasted about 2 seconds. The Romans called this "Pontius Pilate After Bean Soup", but I prefer "The Brown Hammer".

I was confident without being too cocky (minus the ass dropping), basically letting them know that they needed me to help the company grow more than I needed them. Sales jobs are pleeee-enteeeeful, and I would be just fine. It was fun, and I was relaxed.

____________________________________________________

OK, poker. I played a 4-handed game with some buddies. Long story short: I lost my ass. My best friend from college (not to be confused with my oldest and best friend) is an uber aggressive monkey and I was playing tight. He'd bet out hard when I had crap, he'd bet out hard when I had a hand. And somehow he was always able to either push me off hands or beat me.

Case in point. We're heads up. I'm dealt AQd, the flop comes down J39 rainbow. I check. He puts in his standard pot sized bet. I'm thinking he's holding Ace-small or medium or King small. Guessing that I'm ahead here, I reraise. He calls. I check the rag on the turn to see what he's going to do. Surprisingly, he checks as well. The turn is a 2 (if my beer memory serves me correctly), and I'm 99% sure I have him at this point, so I bet about 3/4 of the pot. He calls and flips AJ. And takes the pot.

Keep in mind that he will do this if he has Rockets, Cowboys, AJ, AK, 24o, the hammer. He's impossible to read, and he mopped up on some lucky draws and uber aggressiveness. Kudos.

Here's a hand we'll all enjoy:

The second or third hand of the game, I'm dealt 65s on the button, and I limp in from the button. SB completes and BB checks.

Flop: 655

Heaven! SB checks, BB puts in a nice, big raise. I want to extract as much money as I can from this pot, so I smooth call, SB folds. Next card is a some rag. I can't remember because I was trying to hide my giddiness at flopping a full house.

The river? Another 5.

I check it, and BB overbets the pot something fierce. I re-raise him almost all in, and he calls.

He says, "Full house! 6's and 5's"(he was holding J6o).

I flip and scream "DEMS QUADS BEEEEETCHES!!!!"

And take the pot. Crush.

The first thing I thought of when the river card came down was, "Damn, I can't wait to blog this shit."

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.

Big Ups

Raise your hand if you like the new banner. Everyone? Good.

Big thanks to DuggleBogey for not only creating it, but pimping my blog as well.

I think it looks fan-fuckin'-tastic. Thanks again, Duggle. You rule.

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On the poker tip, Mistress Variance took me for a 190 mph ride on the Autobahn last night and wouldn't let me wear my seatbelt. Or my goggles and scarf.

The Titan balance is back to it's pitiful (and normal) place. I rebought 3 times at the .02/.04 tables. I've never done that before. THREE TIMES AT THE TWO CENT FOUR CENT TABLE!!!! WTF??? Usually, I'll sit down with my $5, turn it into something more, and walk away. Last night, I couldn't catch cards to save my life. When I did have a hand, I got it up the tush. No lube.

Hit trip Kings on the river (with AKo) against an uber aggressive opponent? Yep, he rivered his gutshot straight.

Make pot sized bets all the way down to the river with a set of 9's? Oh sure, monkeyfish will call that down with 52s (one spade on the flop) and river his flush.

It was that kind of night. I eked out a bit of profit at Noble, but losing $15 out of $24 at Titan was a real shitter. And yes, I know Titan and Noble are on the same network, but for some reason I win when I play at Noble. Probably just mental retardation.

________________________________________________

In the real world, there is some breaking news. Smurfette is quitting her job. Yes, the same job that precipitated our move to Wisconsin. The job that was perfect for her. Great pay, same industry as her old job in the Cities, etc.

The only problem is that they're constantly, never endingly short-staffed and scheduling her to work 70 hours a week. And that's not including the 1.5 hour drive she has to make each way. She's only been there six weeks and she's burnt out. Plus she figured out that she's making less than $10/hour with all the hours she's putting in. They're taking her for a ride and it's got to end. NOW. The kids miss her desperately, and when she's home, she sleeps more than she plays with them.

The thing about Smurfette is that she's got this crazy Amish work ethic that doesn't stop. Ever. And part of her feels like she's a failure for leaving this job. This job that has totally taken advantage of her, kept her away from her family for literally days at a time, and treated her like she was basically making Nikes in a 420 degree factory in the Congo. Fuck that.

I think my brother-in-law Troy said it best:

"You can either think of yourself as a failure at your job, or a failure as a mother."

To quote the always under-appreciated Joey Lawrence: "Whoa!"

That makes almost TOO much sense. So...she's done. With my blessing.

Since I'm going to be sitting on an assload of commission as of this Friday, we can afford to step back and re-evaluate. Portage, WI may be out. Horicon or Mayville, WI may be in. I have a meeting in 3 hours with my old boss to discuss the terms of working straight commission. If we abandon the Portage idea and buy a house in Horicon, I will be 45 minutes NE of Madison, and 45 minutes NW of Milwaukee. It's almost perfect considering those are the two markets to which I'll be selling.

Ain't life fun??

This Little Piggie Went To Market

Wee wee wee, all the way home.

Back in the Cities. It's strange, but it sort of doesn't feel like home anymore. I know it's only been 10 days, but I could literally feel myself tense up as I took our exit into gangland and heard all of the overly loud bass pumping, people walking in the middle of the street into traffic like they owned the road, Little fucking Debbie wrappers everywhere, and all of the other bullshit that comes with living in the hood.

Comparing and contrasting the house here to Wisconsin, I think the thing that I've been craving, and what has ultimately justified our moving to the power of cheese is this: peace and fucking quiet.

In Wisconsin, I can sit on the porch swing at night with a smoke and a beer and listen to the crickets chirp and frogs croak and just relax and think, or read...undistracted. Here in the city, I can sit out back with a smoke and a beer, but I can still hear the neverending hum of the freeway half a mile away, or the neighbors fighting, or kids screaming, or 80234 dogs barking. There's never silence. Ever.

Ever.

Today has been pretty mundane. I'm taking a little work break to post this. I've spent the entire day scraping paint off of, and applying stain to, the floor of my daughter's room. Fun. And I'm not even close to being done. Whoopee.

The only really good thing about being home is teh pokah. Last night, I sat down with a PBR, a Camel Light, and the laptop. And crushed. Just fucking crushed. I took my Noble account from $57 to almost $100 playing .05/.10, and later logged into Titan and took my measly $5.50 and turned it into over $20 in about a half hour on the .02/.04 tables. It's hard to believe that I used to only play SnGs and thought that cash games were -EV. Ha! I'll play an occaissional SnG with a blogger now and then, but the bread and butter for me now are the 6-max ring games.

No big hands to share from last night, no graphics, just a couple of hours of good, solid poker. I didn't even use the chat fakeout.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

Poker DT's

I'm shaking. Yesterday at 3:04pm I wet myself. I shit the bed the night before last. I constantly have tremors. I've started nicknaming people I meet as "Hammer", "Hiltons", "Snowman" AND "Taterlegs". I refer to my kids as "Iggy" and "Pauly".

I haven't played poker in a week, and I'm starting to crack.

No fist pumps when my aces hold up, no min-raising my aces (I keed, I keed), no checkraising my full house after the flop, no typing into the chat box "Thanks for the donation!".

Now I've thrown up on myself. At the Horicon Public Library. This could be embarassing...

I've got a fever, and the only cure is more...poker.

One of the residual effects of my limited computer access and non-pokering is a slight case of "Non Commentitus". Since I'm stuck here at a library (tried the wireless again today, to no avail, even had my brother-in-law's tech support on the phone...) with pseudo-strict time restrictions, I am unable to comment on blogs as much as I'd like. As a self-admitted comment whore myself, I feel a sense of loss not being able to make other bloggers' comment numbers tick up every day. Because, let's admit it, we're all sluts to the comments on some level.

I can't wait to get all of this figured out. The doctors are running tests right now (if I somehow come up with some with some sort of uncurable V.D., Smurfette's got some splainin' to do), and I hope they can find a cure for my sickness. But I think I have a inkling of what they'll prescribe:

GET YOUR OWN DAMN HOUSE WITH YOUR OWN INTERNET CONNECTION AND STOP DRIVING 10 MILES TO GET ONLINE, YOU MORON!

I have to go, there's some green pussy stuff starting to come out of my ears and eyes.

Need...help...soon...

Vegas

Damn, do I ever want to go to Vegas for the WPBT. The situation I'm in probably won't allow me to do it, but somebody let me know that he found flights out of Minneapolis for $129.00. I'm 99 44/100 sure that I can swing that, all I need to do is convince Smurfette. I'm thinking that an empty room, some jumper cables, a battery, a phone book, and some limbuger cheese should do the trick.

But probably not. The big tourney is on my son's 3rd birthday.

If anybody else knows of any killer deals out of Milwaukee or Minneapolis, please let me know.

Also, still looking for some help getting my wireless card to attach to WIFI signals in coffeehouses, Applewhore's, etc. The damn thing sees the signal, gives me the signal strength, but won't let me connect to it...HELP!

Thanks for all the comments on my previous posts, as well. It's nice to hear from some familiar avatars while I'm far away from home.

Everybody Do The Limbo!

I'm in a sort of purgatory right now. I type these sentences from the Horicon Public Library in Horicon, WI. I just finished paying bills online on the house in MN, and have checked email, and surfed some bloggers site. I am currently hanging with my family and crashing at my mother in law's place here in Horicon. It's very surreal.

You want poker content? You ain't a-gonna git none. Unless I download Titan or Party onto the computer here at the library, I'm not able to play. I found an Applebees close by that's a WIFI hot-spot, but although my computer can "see" the signal, I can't log onto the network. Other than that, no internet. At all. Ugh.

Any I.T. guys out there know what the Applebees problem may be? I turned off encryption and hit "connect" to the network, but no dice. My browser is supposed to direct me to a screen where I can enter a code to log onto the Applebees network, but it doesn' t work. Help!!!

Not sure where everything is going on the job front. I was planning on being back in the Twin Cities this morning for a video conference call, but got a message on my new "pay as you go phone" (damn these things are expensive! Stoopid not knowing where I'm going to live any given week...) last night saying I didn't need to be there until we got everything hammered out with the job situation. So...I'm not sure where I stand. I'm almost to the point of saying 'screw it', and just looking for something in Madison right away instead of getting ye olde jerk around (minus the reach around). We'll see.

Since I have no real internet connectivity, I had to miss the PokerStars Blogger Tourney yesterday. I was not happy about that. I honestly think that I had a .034% chance of winning that bad boy. Sheeeeet.

OK, my 1 hour of allotted time is almost up, so I'm going to jet.

To sum up: Everything is in a state of limbo. I don't know what the hell the future holds. Good times, good times.

Today will be spent not working, freaking out, and taking the kids to the local waterpark for some good, wholesome family activities. That is if you call wholesome ogling the girls sunbathing at the pool...

Holla.

Talk To The Hand

I'm really starting to like Party Poker. I don't usually put down hand histories, but this one is a boner-fide classic:

#Game No : 4518114218
***** Hand History for Game 4518114218 *****
$25 NL Texas Hold'em - Wednesday, June 14, 22:04:24 ET 2006
Table Table 108133 (Real Money)
Seat 3 is the button
Total number of players : 5
Seat 3: CookedGoose2 ( $29.85 )
Seat 6: TheNutKicker ( $25.45 )
Seat 4: BloodyP ( $19.80 )
Seat 2: geheimnis ( $12 )
Seat 1: mel00000 ( $25 )
BloodyP posts small blind [$0.10].
TheNutKicker posts big blind [$0.25].
mel00000 posts big blind [$0.25].
** Dealing down cards **
Dealt to BloodyP [ As Kh ]
mel00000 checks.
geheimnis calls [$0.25].
CookedGoose2 folds.
BloodyP raises [$0.90].
TheNutKicker folds.
mel00000 calls [$0.75].
geheimnis folds.
** Dealing Flop ** [ Ad, Kd, Ks ]
BloodyP checks.
mel00000 bets [$1.38].
BloodyP calls [$1.38].
** Dealing Turn ** [ Js ]
BloodyP checks.
mel00000 bets [$5.22].
BloodyP: man...
BloodyP calls [$5.22].
** Dealing River ** [ 6c ]
BloodyP bets [$7].
mel00000 is all-In [$17.40]
BloodyP is all-In [$5.20]
BloodyP shows [ As, Kh ] a full house, Kings full of aces.
mel00000 shows [ 6h, 9d ] two pairs, kings and sixes.
mel00000 wins $5.20 from side pot #1 with two pairs, kings and sixes.
BloodyP wins $38.10 from the main pot with a full house, Kings full of aces.

First of all, I think I slowplayed this almost to perfection. BIG pauses between his bets and my calls, throwing down the "man..." in the girlie box to show my internal conflict. I was a classically trained Pokerian actor on this hand, and it paid me off nicely.

Secondly, WTF was this guy doing betting with Big Lick (69o) on a flop like that?? Looking for runner-runner flush??

____________________________________

I don't know if I should toss the salad on this next morsel, but what the hell, we're all friends here, right? Another trick I've been experimenting with is the 'chat box fakeout'. Basically, you type 1/2 a sentence into the chat box, and then apologize, saying it was in the wrong window.

Example:

I am dealt 66. The flop comes down AK3. I am most likely behind here, but if someone bets into me (and gives me odds), I'll let some time expire on the clock, and do this in the chat box:

BloodyP: owplay my set here.
BloodyP: oops
BloodyP: wrong window

I'll usually follow that quickly with a min-raise and watch as the other person thinks about it, then folds. I've done it three times, and it's never failed me. I'm sure it will at some point, but Mr. Parx has seen me do it twice, and I won the pot both times.

[Please note, this really only works when you're heads up with someone. Any more players in the pot, and your chances of pulling off the fakeout diminishes accordingly.]

OK, I'm actually leaving for Wisconsin now. For real. No messing around. Not sure if I'll be back Monday or Tuesday or whenever. First packing up my cube at work, and now trying to cram my life into an old BMW. The times they are a changin'.

I'm not quite sure what to do with all this freedom I have. I'm sure I'll figure something out.

Stuff And/Or Things

You ever quit a job you actually sort of like because you have to? Out of circumstance?

Today was my last day in the office, and it was strange. People that I've worked with for over 3 1/2 years treating me like I had leprosy. Like my fly was open and my nuts were hanging out, but not wanting to tell me because of the embarassment of having to admit to the situation.

There was no party, no "we'll miss you!" crap, just sort of a general, "we'll-see-if-this-whole-straight-commission-thing-works-out-for-ya" kind of attitude. I always knew that work people weren't friends in the true sense, but with only 12 of us on staff, fuck if I was a stranger to them.

My last hour was spent smoking Camel Menthol Lights (buy one/get one) by the back door and drinking the last couple of beers left in the fridge. Pretty much by myself. Which is fine. No biggie, just weird is all.

My boss gave me a counter offer on my straight commission sales plan that basically gave me nothing I asked for. Nothing. Far less commission than I had asked for, and no company credit card or mileage reimbursement. I looked at the proposal, and almost stood up and left. It was pretty insulting considering I've been the most profitable salesperson the company has ever had (not an exaggeration), and have delivered them three straight years of double digit growth. I may counter the counter, or I may just walk away.

In poker news, I finally pulled the trigger and signed up with the Walmart of poker sites. Yes, I am now BloodyP on Party Poker (bonus code: Iggy, damnit! Sorry I didn't use your code). On Chad's advice, I went through Poker Source Online and their $75 free money promotion. It was pretty quick and painless, and I have to say that all you peeps who say the tables are S...O...F...T at Party are right, at least on first blush. I still have 982 raked hands of nad paddlin' (thanks, Iak!) to get through to clear my bonus, but for fart's sake, I made over $15 on a .10/.25 table in about 20 minutes. Oh, and for those of you playing with yourselves at home, that's well above my standard limits. I'm a .05/.10 max kinda guy. Yeah, that's how I roll.

I'm leaving for Wisconsin tomorrow, and since Al Gore hasn't introduced the cheddarheads to the wonders of the internet, I won't be posting until Monday at the earliest.

Have a great weekend, and just remember: I don't have to work tomorrow.

Tossing and Turning

Last night, for the first time, the severity of all of the aspects of this move to Wisconsin hit me at one time.

At midnight.

I tried, without any luck, to talk myself into sleep by not thinking about the 843 additional steps we have to take to make this move complete. I tried thinking about poker, baseball, trips I want to take, and a myriad of minutae to force myself into drowsy sleep. It was like I was trying not to climax.

No luck.

I was up until about 3:30am this morning, tossing, turning, fretting, sweating. I went downstairs to smoke outside in my boxers twice. Nothing worked. I actually thought about having a couple of beers to simmer me down, but since I had to wake up in four hours for work, decided against it.

Does anyone else have nights like these? If so, how do you circumvent the panic? Because that's what I was having. A full-on-evil-robot-chubby-panic-attack. I felt like the scene in Annie Hall where Woody Allen was going berserk because he was due to go on live TV, minus the hyperventalating.

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I looked at our zip code on a local realty site this afternoon, and discovered that in our zip code alone, there are 200 houses up for sale. I threw up in my mouth a little. Tilt. Tilt. Tilt. The good news is that most of the places are utter dumps. I mean shitholes. And small. Houses that were bought for $30K in the late 80's with crack and weed profits and were just destroyed by the owners. Now people are trying to sell them for $160K to $200K, without putting any work into them. I guess people really need their crack.

This past weekend was very good. The birthday festivities were great. I really missed the family, but my boys took me out and we had a great time on the karaoke scene. Bloody P is not only my Christian name, but also the name I use for karaoke. That night it was me and tall, skinny, gansta rappin' white guy by the name of 'Chicken Bone' that were competing to sing the most songs. I busted a killer version of "So Whatchya Want" by the Beasties and took a stab at Paul Revere. Usually, I sing Sinatra, but...yeah, I've got me some mad skillz, yo.

Friday night with Mr. Playboy Mansion himself was also a great time. Captain Cokes (in honor of Drizz), mellow crowd and, of course, laptops. The only bad thing about Friday was my friggin' laptop not glomming onto the WIFI signal at the bar, leaving me pokerless while Chad lost money on Titan. I seriously wanted to geek it up hard, and while he donked off his buy-in, I was left cursing Hewlitt Packard and drinking more Cap'ns. And then some more.

Perhaps he'll tell the evening's tale better than I can here. He's a funny, funny guy, and I think we hit it off well.

Saturday was recovery day (damn you, Chad!). Lots of sleeping, cleaning and playing poker.

Yesterday, I decided to play a little PLO on Titan, because I wanted to switch it up a bit. After donking away 1/2 a buy-in, I reloaded and tripled up in about 20 minutes, only to lose almost all of it 5 minutes later. See live-blogging post for more info.

Went back to a .02/.04, 6-max ring game on Titan and won most of it back, before retiring for the evening, and now we're back to the beginning of this post.

Last night, for the first time, the severity of all of the aspects of this move to Wisconsin hit me at one time.

Circle of LIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holla.

Note To Self

Pot Limit Omaha is NOT your game.

[EDIT: Maybe it is your game!]

[EDIT of EDIT: Nope, NOT your game (fucking dumbass).]

[EDIT of EDIT of EDIT: check THIS SHIT out!]

How much does CC rule?

A very nice birthday present, indeed.

Thanks, CC! You're a class act all the way.

Everyone else, go over to CC's site and check out some of the most insightful blogging out there.

_________________

I'm leaving in an hour or so to hook up with Chad, and uber ghey it up with the online poker and such during happy hour at the Independent. After last night's birthday festivities, I sure as hell hope my liver can handle it.

Maybe some live blogging updates are in order?

34

When do birthdays no longer become long anticipated events? When I was a kid, I would start the countdown in April. Start planning the party, figuring out who to invite, what we would do, what hints to drop for gifts.

In northern Wisconsin, there aren't a lot of options for birthdays. No Chuck E. Cheese, or Pizza City, or arcades to throw money at. Usually, my birthdays consisted of hitting the cold, cold waters of Gitche Gumee, swimming for awhile, and then heading back to our palatial rambler and overloading on cake and ice cream. My dad would grab a football and throw hail mary passes into a throng of hyperacticve 8 year old boys. Whoever caught the ball got a quarter. Dad must have thrown down half a paycheck in an hour on that game.

Now though, instead of being anticipated, birthdays are another reminder of how fucking old you're getting. It's like a reminder note from the hospital, letting you know it's time to have your colon examined. There's no joy in it anymore.

34 is sort of a strange age. Old to some people, "a pup" to others, I feel the former rather than the latter of late. Gone are the days of being up every night until the wee hours of the morning with friends at bars swilling booze and telling tales. These days, 10pm hits, and I start thinking of going to bed. I remember when my parents would watch the news and then crash at 10:30pm. How could they go to bed so early? I'd think. Now I know why. It was me and my sister. Kids beat the holy living shit out of you, physically and mentally. Don't get me wrong, it's 100% worth it, it's just A LOT of work. And it's exhausting.

With the wife and kids in Wisconsin now, I feel like a sort of emotional nomad, putting in conversational stakes with anyone that will listen. I have a sort of general malaise hanging over me right now without them here. Especially today. Normally, tonight would be tailgating before a Saint Paul Saints game with Smurfette, the kids and 9 or 10 friends, followed by me coming home and passing out in anticipation of having to work in the morning.

Tonight, however, I will be grilling with two of my closest friends, then heading out to karaoke for a couple hours before going to bed. Not that it's bad. It's great. But they're not family. There were no cries of "Happy Birthday!!" from little voices this morning. No jumping on the bed or singing, more excited than I am that it's my birthday. Smurfette did call on her way to work this morning to wish me a happy birthday, but it's not the same.

Damn, I sound like a crabby old man. I should just put on a dress, a pair of tits and some antlers, and listen to some old sad bastard music. Sheesh. Sorry. Birthdays rule!

I did get a nice pre-birthday gift on the poker scene last night, as both the .05/.10 table I played for awhile and the .02/.04 table I played with Parx later on seemed to want to shower me with birthday gifts in advance. I ended up about $11 for the night. Yay for me.

Now that I've bored you with this whiny post, go read some real bloggers. Pauly has been crushing hard with his Born to Gamble series, and Drizz has a great, well written post about facing the challenges of ambition and physical limitations.

OK, I'm 34. It's 8:45am. Time to get drunk.

Oh, and if you want to give me a present, click that Titan link to your right, sign up and throw a $20 into your account. I'll thank you, and you'll thank me once you've played there. Sooo soft.

Poker? I Don't Even Know Her!

After eating some bison burgers (excellent) and some "notdogs" (seemed good at the time. In retrospect...yuck) at a friend's place, and basking in the beautiful, bug-free Minnesota sun last night, I headed home, grabbed a Leinie's Sunset Wheat and fired up the poker mechanism.

I sat down at a .01/.02 to get warmed up. Mr. Parx was on the My Little Pony chat thingy, so I hit him up and had him sweat me for a bit. We talked a little bit about the hit-n-run theory of getting in-banking some cash-and getting out. I agreed to hit and run. If I got up to $7 from my $5 buy-in, I would leave the table and look for fish in deeper waters.

I was up to well over $7 in about 25 minutes or so, but I refused to budge. I was having a good time being the table captain, all my bets and raises were respected, and I was making money. OK, not A LOT of money, but money nonetheless. Parx reminded me of our bargain, but I refused to leave.

About five minutes later, I took a huge hit when my two pair ran into a nicely disguised and well played set of threes. I hit two pair on the flop, led out the betting and he just followed along. Up from $7+ to just a cunt hair over $2.50.

Damned dirty apes!

TILT. TILT. TILT. TILT.

My self-appointed stop time was 10:30pm. By this point it was 10:45pm, but I wouldn't go away. MUST..MAKE...MONEY...BACK...GET..TO...EVEN...

I didn't get there at that table. I got up to around $3, but couldn't get the cards to play effectively. So I did the cardinal sin of poker whilst tilting:

I jumped two levels.

I completely bypassed the .02/.04 level and went to .05/.10, praying to the sweet baby jebus (on 6/6/06, no less) to grant me the serenity to kick some fucking ass.

First hand, I'm dealt A6c. Limped to me. I pop it to .40 and get two callers. The flop comes down J66 rainbow. Saaaa-weet. Checked to me. I bet about 1/2 the pot. Get one caller, the other guy folds. The turn comes down a 9. I KNEW this guy had a Jack and was going to take me to the river. He fires out a $1 bet. I raise to $2, he calls. River is an ace, and bingo, I'm full housing it. He bets out $2, I raise it to $3. He calls.

I scream, "SHIP IT!".

A beeeyoootiful pot comes my way, and I more than make up the money I lost on the .01/.02 table. I believe he had AJo. I KNOW he had the Jack. I'll have to double-check the hand history. AJ makes sense with the big river bet and call.

At this point, it's getting on 11:30pm, and I decide to heed Mr. Parx's advice, and I get the fuck out of there.

I know it's a dumb, dumb, dumb idea to tilt-jump. Believe me, I know. I'm just glad it worked out...this time.

I'm Michael J. Fox, and that's one to grow on.

The Vegas of the Midwest

I'm back from the Las Vegas of the upper midwest (minus the gambling and porn slappers). Had a great time reconnecting with the family.

Mini picture dump:

Best Regards, MY ASSHOLE

Dear BloodyP,


We have received complaints regarding your abuse of chat privileges. Foul,
foreign or abusive language, racist remarks and threats are not tolerated on
the iPoker network. We must warn you that your future chat will be monitored
and any further abuse of this facility will result in us removing your chat
privileges indefinitely.


Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact
the Noble Poker Support Team.

Email: support@noblepoker.com

Toll Free (U.S. only)
Phone: 1-866-860-1181
Fax: 1-866-289-1392

International
Phone: 63-2845-9001
Fax: 63-2845-9002


Best regards,

The Noble Poker team

Was it something I said??? Stupid beer...

Up Too Late

Ugh. I'm dragging today. This guy kept me up far, far too late on the Barbie chat box playing poker. He is a berry, berry bad man. Berry berry bad.

He does get mongo bonus points for playing poker on his laptop in a bar during happy hour.

Well played, sir.

Dug myself a big hole last night that I was able to reverse by the time I went to bed. I was down 1 1/2 buy-ins at one point, and ended up moving down to the lowest levels possible to stop the bleeding. I ended up $1 for the night. Blah.