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Sunday, January 14, 2007

Ramblings of a Madman AKA Flights of Icky Play AKA Why Does Beer Taste So Good But Make One So Bad At Poker AKA Fart

It's a lazy Sunday. The wife and kids are gone to meet up with a friend at the Madison Children's Museum, and I am left at home to drink beer, watch football, drink beer, and play poker, and drink beer. Life is...how you say? Ah...yes....good.

Speaking of beer, friends don't let friends play poker drunk...

Yesterday I was un-fooking-stoppable in the 6-handed $2.25 SnGs on Full Tilt. I was up about $30 or so.

And then the beer started flowing.

After much donkey assed play, I ended up about $10 for the day before I finally (mercifully) stopped playing.

FF to today. As I sit here now, I'm up about $10, but just dronked out of an SnG and am trying to tighten up and play smart. And by smart, I mean not pushing my stack in with A5d with an Ace on the board.

I know, I know...Hey, it's only two bucks.

In other poker news, I Gigli'd out of my buddy's bachelor party 15-handed poker tourney last Saturday (that I set up) when I ran my Queens into K9o. The offender called a preflop raise with that crap, and I doubled him up when he hit a King on the flop, and I couldn't let go of my hand.

Again...stupid beer.

The bad news was that I was out of the tourney. The good news that I got to drink, unfettered, for the next 2 1/2 hours.


I haven't written much about life lately, so let me take this opportunity to do so.

I'm am loving small town life. It's quiet, quaint, and I still get a taste of the big (scary) city everyday when I go to work in Milwaukee. It's a an excellent balance.

No longer are there gunshots, sirens every 15 minutes, people not respecting other people's property, hell, not respecting other people. There's definitely a "we're in this together" sort of vibe here that I forgot about that occurs small towns. Pretty cool stuff, after living in a neighborhood where your neighbors barely even acknowledged each other existences.

BPette, on the other hand, isn't acclimating herself as well as I had hoped. I figured since she grew up in this area, she'd feel right at home. But she doesn't. She's homesick.

For Minneapolis.

She misses her job, her friends, the convenience of the city. The only thing that keeps her going is how happy our kids are, how happy I am, and that our house here in Horicon kicks much ass.

I'm hoping that she starts to give this place more of chance, because really, she's the only one that isn't in love with this crazy little place we now call home.


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