Its Almost June Already?

I’ve been doing this parenting thing for almost three years now, but damn I don’t remember ever being this worn out/tired before. I’m not physically ill, but the late nights are starting to chip away at me. Staring at this Sobe Energy Citrus drink WITH GUARANA, PANAX GINSENG, AND TAURINE, I wonder if I’ll be able to function without accidentally striking up a theological conversation with the Xerox. Good thing I have Phil Hellmuth’s calendar nearby to get my daily dose of brain candy.

Phil’s Daily tip: “Sometimes I try to win less money in a pot while protecting my chips”

Ok, now my head hurts, maybe I need less simulating things like finding naked Lindsay Lohan pictures while clubbing at Las Vegas ultra lounges with Shriners circus clowns and Nick from Family Ties (that outta bring the freaks here this morning).

Poker, poker, who’s got the poker? Obviously I’ve been playing very little lately due to not being home much and when I’m home most of my energy is expended towards my tax deductions. Poor Wyatt is still running a fever and got up three times last night. But I did manage to play a B2B freeroll placing 10th out of 478 runners to win more yummy Euros. These freerolls are offered 4-6 times a day (maybe even more) and generally its push-and-pray poker but if you’re not 100% into the game of choice for that evening why not run a freeroll instead?

In the past, when I got home from a softball game (victorious last night of course over some young whipper-snappers that ran the bases like gazelles on meth) I would shower, immediately fire up three tables of $100 or $200 PLO8 or NLHE ring games and usually make mindless decisions until my “high” from playing softball ceased. $20 here, a stack there, drip drip drip wasting valuable bankroll funds on thoughtless bluffs and angry calls when given strong indications that I got out-drawn or I’ve been strung along with a second best hand.

No more of that.

Instead I search around for a freeroll or play a peep-sex SnG token tourney at Full Tilt where my losses are confined to an entry fee (I managed to suckout a token last night, playing three total hands, poker is easy).

Mike Caro stresses the fact that a bet saved is a bet earned. This concept doesn’t always pertain to a shaky value bet on the river, or folding that eight-six low in Razz on sixth street knowing that rockish Drizztdj with 4 3 2 6 showing probably has at least an ace or a five in the hole. Saving bets can mean not opening up tables when you’re not fit to play (alcohol induced states are a different subject matter, since from experience I tend to play a little better). Being ill or tired or stressed-out is just throwing yourself at the mercy of the cards because you won’t pay as much attention to Maniacal Max raising every other hand, or Slowplay Sean who only checks when he has a monster. Stuck with level one type play, poker players are more likely to bet into Timid Tim on a bluff despite the fact that he will not fold his pair of treys thus not saving those bets for when you have a hand and will get paid off.

Do yourself a favor, save the “real” cash games for when you’re fresh and alert. Play well below your usual limits if you’re taking the time in between hands to stalk an ex-girlfriend or watch Sixteen Candles (just listening to the 80s phrases make this movie one of the best). Give yourself a built-in stop loss and play an SnG if you must play.

Just don’t hop into a game just because you found the location of your laptop’s on button.

Thanks for dropping by, now why do I feel guilty for watching the ladies French Open tennis tournament in the morning before work? Unpronounceable athletic European ladies running around with hiked up skirts, its better then Cinemax.

How To Play Poker With a Minnesotan

This post is picture laden for the lovely Felicia (so you'll need to visit the site to see the pictures). She couldn't understand my MinnesOOOOOOOtan garble that came out of my mouth last winter. So, I used a high-tech Steno book and ravishing red marker to create popular phrases you may hear from me at the table.

Some of these require you to understand the "inside" joke as they'll only be semi-funny to those who read here semi-regularly.

Enjoy.

This page would be used sparingingly as I raise about as much as monk talks.

Ah, my favorite word in the poker dictionary. While at a live table its usually followed by...

AARRGGHHH! Fetch me a drink you salty wench!

Should my hand hold up and become victorious. A Viking horn may also be played.

This is for "special" players who get their pocket twos counterfeited by two pair on the board, yet feel compelled to cap the river.

Too much Hold Em' gets me antsy for a game of nut-peddling! That and I suck at Hold Em'.

Shoving pre-flop in PLO8 is akin to playing Red or Black on a roulette wheel with Robert Redford in the background checking out your wife. Might as well give yourself the best chance to win.

The truth is hard to take. Time to go take up the Professional Galaga/Ms. Pac-Man/Skee-Ball circuit at your nearest Chuck E Cheese.

Phrase from -EV, Nines are just as good as Aces right?

Boy you really got me by playing that 94o for the runner-runner four flush! Next time I'll beat you senseless with my card capper and we'll call it even, deal?

These two are usually brought forth upon getting to the point in a tournament where I need to take a coinflip to move on. For those slot junkies out there... the new Powerball slots are really super-cool!

Still dragging ass today as Wyatt has a fever but refuses to take the chewable Tylenol that we got for him, meaning not much sleep for the missus and I. Tonight, I forsee missing the ball completely playing adult co-ed t-ball. Hopefully embarrassment will be kept to a minimum or we play a team of fish eyed cripples that allow my suck-a-tude to look good.

Thanks for dropping by, now its back to work! Whoo-whoo!

Sigh.

Home Sweet Home

Hot. Enclosed. Son overheated from lack of drinking. Up all night. No sleep.

Baby crying, cannot sleep.

Uncomfortable couch, too short, fan is too loud.

Say good-byes to friends and father-in-law.

Cool air conditioner feels welcome.

Bambi not looking good on the right hand side of the road.

Beuron 3
Hwy 70 12
Minneapolis 72

Heartbreaker's Adult Entertainment 18+ WELCOME, girl looks like a cross between Jennifer Love Hewitt and Jessica Alba. Think unpure thoughts.

HEY! I could feel pain 12 weeks after conception! HEY! I'm pro-choice, go somewhere else with your moral spewing.

Son cooing in the back seat with a firm grasp on Mr. Turtle, temperature finally normal, prop up baby's head from 90 degree angle.

Bambi's brother and sister lost playing chicken again.

Nice driving sir!

Hormones are for teen-agers! Exclaims the Gold N' Plump chicken!

The Bridges golf course, gone. Welcome Medtronic Mega-Corp! What a waste.

HAHA! Speed trap anyone? Suckers!

Chicken Wrap, Double Cheeseburger, 2 Happy Meals. No, you really shouldn't eat 17 Big Macs. Thank you for the correct change.

New building at work looks nice, can't wait to go back. Sarcasm is fun!

Almost home, baby still sleeping, son dreaming of those chicks at Heartbreakers.

Grass needs to get cut, car washed, hmmm maybe after the baby's bottle and a 12 hour nap.

Memorial Day Weekend

With the sadness of people passing in our small community, and me being about 1/4th awake due to some midnight feedings taking a little longer, I'm going to delay my pic post till next week.

It seems out of place right now for poker humor while people are mourning their losses.

I hope everyone has a great Memorial Day weekend, as I'll be up at my cabin the majority of the time with some golfing sticks, the Cap'n, and maybe beat a few bucks out of some blue hairs at the Grand Casino Hinckley poker room.

I'll Be In Charleston, But Hope To Play

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

Captain Morgan To Sponsor Me??

No.

I had a picture post all ready for today but after getting home from softball last night but after barely being able to type hello on the girly IRC chat box and feeding Kyra, it was time for this old man to go rolling home... to bed. No poker, two days straight.

Beers at Cousineau's last night took a little sting out of losing the softball game due to the mercy rule (losing by 10 or more), but besides the pitchers of macro brew there was an added little flair to the night.

The Captain Morganettes visted the bar!

Actually it was just two skinny chicks in mini skirts with a red top giving out samples of Cap'n Cokes (I took three of course).

Attractive? Meh, I saw hotter women wearing less at the softball game.

Excitement factor matching the big banner outside of the bar? Not even close, basically they handed out some swag (I got a nice visor), the sample shots, and some beads, then left. No music, no shot contest, no hot girl on girl action. Just two tepid women with overly nice smiles handing out my favorite alcohol.

I inquired about a possible corporate poker sponsorship due to my past/present/future mass consumpion of their product. I informed them I would change my avatar to their logo for the $100 PLO8 PokerStars tables. This inquiry was met with the same confusing look I got from my high school girlfriend when I tried to take off her bra for the first time. Maybe I needed a rougher degenerate gambler look as having Kyra and a bottle in my hands probably softened the image of me nut-peddling for money online.

Tomorrow's post will be for those who have been unlucky enough to share a live table with me and couldn't understand a word coming out of my Minnesotan mouth.

Thanks for dropping by, now if you haven't visited and watched the report for Gulfman done by GRob, please head over to UpForPoker for the links. Again, my condolences go out to his friends.

The Lesson Unlearned

The bruised palm of my hand this morning is a reminder of what a terrible infielder I am. Something about catching a line drive on the pitcher’s rubber with the heel of your glove and your wrist doesn’t smack of Ozzie Smith’s wizard-like play with the mitt. Nor does overthrowing the 3rd baseman…

…from two feet away

I was forced to take up pitching duties last night as we played a couple of “serious” softball teams. You can tell the difference between the teams that show up to drink a few Grain Belts in the parking lot after the game, and those teams that have matching bags and uniforms, along with the latest super-ultra titanium missile launching technology bats, then go to the parking lot for some Grain Belts.

Good players can hit a softball between 90-100mph when it leaves their bat… guess where the easiest place to get a hit is, here's a hint, he’s about 6’4” and only standing 30 feet away.

Luckily there was only a half dozen shots up the middle last night that made me clinch up my ass so tight you’d think I was spending my first night in Sing-Sing. I must have made three or four errors last night as I am the anti-gold glover in the infield, Ozzie would mock me and tell me to take up Curling or Badminton.

Despite putting up 15 runs in the first game and 21 runs in the second, we only managed one tie. The errors added up despite looking harmless at first, in fact my retarded throw to the third baseman confused the runners so badly they just stood there and we ended up making a double play. Despite the 1-5-4-1-9-1-2-1 double play they chipped a couple of runs that inning, then another, and another until we gave up enough runs to double the offensive output of the Kansas City Royals for the past month (normally I’d mock the Twins here but they’re hitting the ball again… for now).

Little errors add up on the felt as well. Those limp-folds to a maniac who make a small raise in NLHE with a small pocket pair, wasted money. Re-raising with Aces on the river in LHE on a board of 7 8 9 T Q with five people still in the hand, probably not intelligent. Re-raising with just a nut-low, no counterfeit protection, and no shot at the high into four players in PLO8, you don’t like money do you? Opening up that last $5 Turbo SnG right before Gil Grissom and Katherine Willows pop on the screen to describe tonight’s grizzly murder case, five dollars better spent on a finger licking good Chicken Bowl at KFC (gotta get a biscuit too).

While not paying attention to the details, costly errors erode your bankroll more then “bad beats” or OMFG FOLD ALREADY-type aggressive play against calling stations. That $11 double shootout you thought you’d squeeze in before the wife comes home? Don’t. Plan it for another time when you have 1-2 hours to sit down and not worry about putting away the groceries.

I’m extremely guilty of making these type of bankroll errors, and its yet another thing that added to my tales of poker woes. Gone is “fitting in” that last orbit in a cash game before Little Drizz gets home from my parent’s house, because I know he’ll want to play outside (and who wouldn’t in Minnesota right now, damn its gorgeous out!).

If you’re pissing away money due to bad decisions, those can be changed. Not AA vs KK and claiming you have Miss Cleo on the line telling you to fold pre-flop; sometimes you’re just going to lose. It’s the decision to make plays at the table or with your bankroll that you KNOW (or at least should) are wrong yet you still do that out of habit. If you’re serious about maintaining that bankroll, be serious about how you invest/spend it. There’s nothing wrong with setting aside bankroll money for vacation/playing –EV casino games/hookers and blow but realize that you now have less poker money to invest while moving up in limits.

Making that withdrawl is only a small error since you earmarked those funds for a different activity/investment/fun (whether the activity/inventment/fun is worth depleting the bankroll is a different argument). Making bets in a poker game should always have a meaning since you are using those funds for a specific purpose (to bluff, to value bet, to tilt the other player). If that tournament entry fee or that river bet was wagered “just because”, then don’t bemoan the fact that the cards are not going your way because you could have saved money at a different time by not making a small error.

Thanks for dropping by, now go check out 9-2 offsuit recently added to the blogroll. It’s a collaboration of players with tales of bankroll building and destroying. Excellent read due to its many different view points and voices.

And I need to ask Basketball fans… what do you think Mark Cuban would have done if the Mavericks wouldn’t have pulled off the OT victory despite trying to the lose the game in the 4th quarter.

I Type, Therefore I Am

Another profitable weekend yet I’m still feeling like I missing something. I had two final tables in MTTs (5th in PLO8 and 7th in NLHE) and two penultimate tables (17th in PLO and 14th in the PSO freeroll NLHE). For a non-tournament player like myself those are fairly good results, and might be the cause for getting out of this negative funk I’ve wrapped myself in for the past five months.

Instead my adolescent brain decides to dwell (again) on the fact that thru all of the tourneys I participated in this weekend I won one race (the 7th out of 351). One time I managed to win a coin flip. One time Vince Van Patton would have used a term that sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard to me and I was victorious. People gloss over winning “races” in tournaments while drafting their tournament summaries.

“I had AK to his 88 and after a king flopped I was able to move on”.

That’s where my tournament write-ups stop, I don’t win “races”, in fact last night during the WPBT Gemini tourney when I got my chips in the middle pre-flop with TT and saw Spaceman’s AKo, I turned off the table and left before the flop even came out. I didn’t even want to watch. Only after looking back at the summary screen did I see that an ace hit the river as expected. Up to that point I got into exactly zero “races” in the dual WPBT Gemini tourney due to mostly pre-flop play and getting lucky with dominating hands that held up. Kudos to Biggestron for putting together yet another fun tourney!!

I’m bitchy this morning due to very little sleep, Kyra thought it would be fun to wake up in one hour intervals last night, bear with me.

I did manage some sleep during a bachelor-type weekend when the wife decided to take our spawns up to the cabin for most of the weekend. Instead of inviting over erotic Swedish massage experts and drinking myself to sleep, I opted for grabbing a few Zzzzzz’s and walking around in my boxers the whole weekend. Of course the price of staying home alone meant cleaning the house and some yard work, but when you have an iPod stocked with Anthrax, Toby Keith, Elton John, Madonna, and old school Metallica, it makes busting out the Pine-Sol, 409, and weed whip go much more quickly.

Yes, I’m the king of excitement, hear me meow.

I do have one little rant about my favorite summer professional sports-type team, and would like to internet-type on important things like bashing Jessie Crain for blowing Boof’s big-league beginning. Once again Mr. Gleeman predicted the future of straight as an arrow throwing Crain a month ago, and hopefully Gardy sees it as well before more quality starts are wasted. Yes, he’s throwing the ball hard, but the reason why pitchers like Greg Maddux and Tim Wakefield can hang at the major league level is because of the movement and placement on their pitches. Crain’s “Here’s-my-fastball-try-to-hit-it” mentality works while playing Legion ball for Post #542 against some high school kids who are more interested in making sure the cute blonde with the too-short-to-be-sitting-in skirt in the 3rd row bleachers notices him, but not while facing finely tuned professional ball players. If he could throw a cut fastball or even develop a nasty change-up (see Santana and Liriano), there’s a spot in the bullpen for him.

And my heart broke for Barbaro this weekend at Pimlico. Was it the first start that caused the injury? I’m not horsey expert as I still like to bet on colors, names, and numbers rather then Beyer speed figures. In any regards, I hope he has a full recovery and thank god for the knowledgeable jockey that was able to calm him before the injury got worst. I whiffed on all my bets, but to see a horse go down like that earlier soured the usual excitement of the home stretch.

Thanks for dropping by, now a side note to my sister-in-law... when drinking outside it is advisible to have the house unlocked or getting that next beer thru the upper floor kitchen window can be rather difficult.

Freeroll Nets Some Beer Money

I'm still wondering how.

Thanks to PSO and Absolute for the freeroll. Not sure if I deserved getting that far, but it was another good run.

Being a bachelor this weekend has been too quiet, I almost miss getting up at 2am for the newest member of the family.

Almost.

Update.... 17th out of 2000 in a PLO freeroll... FOR A FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC ONE DOLLAR!

Sigh.

Feeding The Kid At 2am Has Advantages

7th out of 351 in a $5 NLHE MTT at Full Contact Poker.

Thanks to Kyra, I was able to stay awake.

Adding Porn Star References To Your Posts Gets People To Read

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Baby Blues

Since Kyra decided to forgo sleep after waiting until 1:00am to eat, I am feeling a bit zombifyed or zombified, maybe there’s a sci-fi geek out there with proper spelling knowledge. Luckily I lasted long enough in a PartyPoker dollah tourney to pass the time, collecting a whopping $1.88 for my efforts.

Note to dollah tourney enthusiasts:

Stop n’ Go’s don’t work on 99.9% of these single-celled opponents. And for the love of all that is holy MIN-RAISING DRIVES ME MAD. Absinthe had the same sentiments on the girly IRC chat box, wishing death upon these pox of poker society. On my way to the cash last night I saw no less then eight min-raises by various positions:

Three times = Aces
Three times = Ace + Queen/Jack (not AK)
One time = Jacks
One time = 98o

And to the tool who limped in from UTG + 1 with Aces and got six limpers which included the always dangerous SMTL (that’s Snowman Tater-Legs 83o for those who haven’t read the poker blogger dictionary), don’t bitch about bubbling out of the tourney trying to pull this “move”. If six people are in the hand and the board reads 4 5 6 7 K, you may consider making a Hellmuthian lay down when you get MIN-RAISED on the turn after checking the flop.

I put min-raisers quite high on my hate list, right next to women who get shocked when men stare at them while wearing reveling clothing, and people who think its super-cool to change lanes while private room text chatting with Mammoth Missy on their Treo with Bluetooth at Melonballers.com (only $1.75 a min for first time perverts!) without actually seeing my sister’s shiny green Chevy Cavalier in the other lane.





Mexician Police Groom: YOU GO TO HELL!

Curly Bill: You first [caps his ass]

- Tombstone (1993)






I’m going back to fending off the zzzzzzzzzzzz’s and impure thoughts of a nude Lindsay Lohan in my hot tub asking why I haven’t joined her yet.

Can you tell its been awhile?

I’m usually like this? Oh, nevermind then.

As we were leaving the hospital last Tuesday the doctor’s “post-pregnancy release health guide” proclaims the wife needs 5 weeks of “pelvic rest”. I assume that’s Christian doctor-speak for “no banging the wife”. At least the internet is kind enough to display various female forms for um… modeling?

My bottle of peppermint lotion should last at least those five weeks.

Thanks for dropping by, now if you haven’t signed up for the blogger tourney on Saturday through PSO, well you suck.

And if you haven’t signed up for the next WPBT event (hit the link for details), you just might be a redneck.

Final note to any one that watched Sportscenter this morning and saw the Peter Gammon’s bit that posed this whopper of a “fact or fiction” question:

“Did Russ Springer try to plunk Barry Bonds”

Are you kidding me? When a ball goes behind you, then near misses your back heel, two more almost hitting the nub of the bat, THEN getting hit in the back. Captain Obvious just had a stroke from laughing too hard at good old Pete there. It was about as obvious as to what Springer was trying to accomplish as watching the slick haired Italian stallion showing up at the doorstep of the desperate housewife and suddenly “chicka-chicka beep beep a-mow mow” music starts in the background.

“Wanna play some gin rummy?” asks the Italian stallion as she bends over seductively to turn off the “Maury” episode that feature the chick who after 17 tries can’t figure out who’s sperm did its duty for her two year old son.

Someone at ESPN was stretching for filler space this morning.

I Still Love This Game

There’s a faded chalk line that was put down by an underpaid park employee a few days ago. Dirt caked to the benches as a reminder of the downpours the field has been hit with over the past week. The outfield shows signs of regrowth and winter kill with a mix patch of lush green and off-white turf. Cars zoom by at 70 miles per hour on highway 610 a mere 100 feet away. The new dark green uniforms and unbroken caps await in a box postmarked to the sponsor of our team.

Looking up at the first batter from right field, I see that he’s got good mechanics despite a small frame. His stance is slightly open, and snaps his wrist quickly while finishing his swing. I make a note to the center fielders to move back a step because the breeze going out to center will push the ball an extra 15 feet tonight. And as I watch the ball come off his $300+ bat and sail into the marsh behind the left-center field fence, I think to myself, “damn I’m getting old, but I still love this game”.

My name is placed fourth in the lineup when I jog back into the dugout after the team with the orange crush uniforms notched together three runs. Two out of three teammates reach base safely ahead of me, depending on this lanky kid with a penchant for cards to hit it at least past the pitching rubber and please the watchful eyes of his spouse and newborn sitting in the bleachers behind him. The rotund pitcher announces the number four batter is hitting, the fielders take a couple of long steps backwards with anticipation that I might actually connect with the USSSA approved 12 inch ball into the outfield far enough for them to catch it. But the outfielders didn’t move, and rather just watched the scuffed white orb sail over their heads for a home run.

Home runs are a common occurrence in softball, after all it’s considered adult t-ball. I take no greater pride hitting a home run then hitting a rope down the right field line to a drawn in right fielder that doesn’t think a right handed batter could slap it opposite field. Softball doesn’t have the same feel to it as baseball does. The excitement is different but the same. There’s victories, defeats, rallies, slumps, and hot player’s wives/girlfriends in both sports. “I’m a retired baseball player” is a common thread for those who play softball at a semi-competitive level. Most of them could name off what school they played baseball for and name some injury that prevented them from taking hacks at 85 m.p.h. cut fastballs from Mike Mussina at Yankee Stadium (my injury is a bad rotator cuff).

But we come out to play for various reasons; most of the guys on my team are just getting a whiff of life after college and have a great competitive spirit carrying over from their baseball playing days, and matching trophies that haven’t had a chance to collect an inch of dust. Announcing tournaments for national qualifiers and leagues they want to conquer over the summer. Myself, I play for the camaraderie of a team, for two hours I get to compete once again on a scale that is fun yet sedates my competitive side. I used to be like them, playing three to five nights a week, hell I’d even shot myself in the foot during a work interview stating softball was more important then moving up in the company. I’m truthful to a fault sometimes, not a good poker personality quality eh?

If you read here, obviously you read of JoeSpeaker’s wonderfully described tales on the soccer pitch (did I get that right?) or HDouble describing his rugged days of battling on the gridiron. Can an athlete use some of that spark they get from lacing up their cleats or tapping up their shin pads to becoming a good poker player?

Absolutely.

Granted for internet players, the field isn’t as majestic as Fenway, or contain the bedlam of an English premiership match, or even as semi-memorable as your old high school ball field for that matter. But the arena is laid out for competition whenever you want it, what you do with it is your decision.

Are you going to “lift weights” by reading books, poker messages boards like 2+2, listen to advice from friend, or even a read poker blogger since they’re known for throwing a nugget or two of useful information out there. Or are you just going to show up to play, maybe win a little, lose a little, but are there to enjoy the entertainment value of having people berate you for playing that 53s for a min-raise and hitting a flush vs. their expertly slowplayed Aces. HOW DARE YOU!

I still get myself in some kind of shape to play ball, not to the three hours of practice extent, like the pitchers were required to endure at my high school. But, I lift a weight to absorb some the punishment enacted by throwing a ball 80+ m.p.h. with a bad shoulder. It also helps at the plate when I’m called upon to not suck by not swinging at pitches that may have hit the dirt before taking a cut at them (that may or may not have happened last night, I deny everything!). But, I don’t always prepare myself to play poker, relying too much on “getting money in with the best of it” and not so much “playing perfect poker”. There’s a difference in those two statements and it has nothing to do with “bad beats” or getting “cold decked”, it has to do with making each bet/raise/fold mean something. That’s something I didn’t do over this losing streak, I just sat and bemoaned “luck” when my cards were not victorious with a 70%+ chance to win.

In other words, I didn’t show up ready to play.

I’m changing that, getting away from the monotone game of sit and waiting for my turn to bat while staring at the decrepit barn sitting beyond the left field fence. Only time will tell if I can turn this poker hobby into something more significant. But until then I’ll be waiting for my turn to bat while watching the pitcher’s release, the ball’s spin, and where I am going to hit it before I step up to the plate. Not after digging in, not after the ball leaves the pitcher’s oversized club of a hand, and certainly not after ball’s descent.

That, and enjoy my time competing on the field.

Thanks for dropping by, now I’m going to JCousineau’s before the game tonight to do some 12 oz. curls, aiming fluid always helps before a game :)

Dial-a-shots anyone?

Is It Live or Is It Memorex?

I feel awake, yet I don't.

Weird.

Emails and work (blog reading) to catch up on, so I'll be back tomorrow to whisper about not having a good poker month and maybe more cute pictures of the new spawn.

One thought before I dive into my bloated work inbox... can they really kill off Jim Brass on CSI?!!?!?! Madness!!

I Pity White Sox Fans

These guys commentating the Twins/Sox game tonight are drier then a month old Saltine cracker .

I turned up the volume so Kyra could fall asleep listening to this solemn excuse for play-by-play.

Please please please allow Dick and Bert to do a voice over or something.

Just In Time For Mother's Day

The same look my wife gives me when I'm up too late for a poker tourney

I may be smiling but try to date my little sister and I throw a mean left hook.

Mother's day shopping for the wife today, I'm getting a Dairy Queen ice cream cake (as requested) and a pendant with a May birthstone in it.

Enjoy your weekend folks!!!

This is Kyra Vegas

Born May 9th, 2006

9 lbs. 1 oz.

Here's Wyatt giving his best "Chandler Bing" smile

Here's your hero with his wife and Kyra pimping some awesome online poker website.

Thanks for all the well wishes!!!! Sadly you'll have to suffer through cute baby pics for the next few days until I return to giggling about boobies while using second grade English skillz.

I Took A Ride In An Ambulance

And all I got was a sore back...



... and a new family member.


Pics and non-eating placentas tales to come after I get some rest.

Bobby "The Brain" Plays Good Golf

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Getting Quads Snapped Off Never Felt So Good

I'm CameronFry, sorry I left that out :)


and kudos to Princess Maigrey for the title change suggestion.















I'm still cleaning off my Spice Girls boxers.
























Game # 321821321 - Texas Hold'em No Limit EUR 0,50/1,00 - Table "Churra"Game ended 2006-05-05 17:14:14 GMT+01:00
Players:70-70 (EUR 149,75 in seat 1)
shiyos (EUR 102,90 in seat 2)
larse6 (EUR 43,72 in seat 3)
Little_Stu (EUR 48,95 in seat 4)
CameronFry (EUR 73,54 in seat 5)
jacke08 (EUR 101,64 in seat 6)
Dealer: CameronFry
Small Blind: jacke08 (0,50)
Big Blind: 70-70 (1,00)
shiyos Fold
larse6 Fold
Little_Stu Call (1,00)
CameronFry Call (1,00)
jacke08 Call (0,50)
70-70 Check
Flop Jd - 8d - Jh
jacke08 Check
70-70 Bet (3,25)
Little_Stu Fold
CameronFry Call (3,25)
jacke08 Fold
Turn Jd - 8d - Jh - 5h
70-70 Check
CameronFry Bet (1,00)
70-70 Call (1,00)
River Jd - 8d - Jh - 5h - Td
70-70 All-In (144,50)
CameronFry All-In (68,29)
70-70 Payback (76,21)
70-70 shows: 9d - Qd (a straight flush, queen high)
CameronFry shows: Jc - Js (four of a kind, jacks)
70-70 wins: EUR 146,08 (with a straight flush, queen high)
Bad Beat Jackpot (EUR 1 243,53) won by CameronFry
Bad Beat Jackpot (EUR 669,59) won by 70-70
Bad Beat Jackpot (EUR 95,66) won by jacke08
Bad Beat Jackpot (EUR 95,66) won by shiyos
Bad Beat Jackpot (EUR 95,65) won by larse6

Public Service Announcement

Friends don't let friend drink and whine.

That is all.

Have a good weekend folks

I'm Bitching To Myself, Please Ignore

I don't have "it".

Whatever winning poker players have that they can stand the losses, I can't do it.

For five months I have watched pots shift in the opposite direction and I have nothing to show for it except a bunch of elementary school whines about "money in with the best of it".

There is no "cure" for losing. I could read all the books, study, whatever the fuck I'm supposed to do to improve. The game has its winners and its losers.

I'm the loser.

I'm the guy you say "sorry" to. I'm the guy you say "LOLOLOL OMG YOU GOT PWNED ON THE RIVER!". I'm the guy that you will win that coin flip against. I can't handle my emotions, therefore I will never be a profitable poker player.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be back and have a fresh mind ready to donate more money, but why bother? This type of post will just pop up again with different words saying the same fuckin thing a few days from now. Yes, its unproductive negative thinking but what's the point when you do nothing but lose every night.

People say "it will turn around", "don't worry". Really? Five fuckin months of this and I'm supposed to be positive about a good swing in variance?

Its not variance, its me, I'm the problem. I need help, not condolences.

I have zero ego, so if you've watched me play, please beat the shit out of my game and offer any advice. FYI, I've tried playing all the different "games" LAG, TAG, Maniac, Weak/Tight, etc...

I am numb to "beats" to the point that I can't get out of this "oh no here we go again" attitude before the river card falls. Again if you have the fortitude to withstand five months of losing, more the power to you, I wish I had your strength.

I am not a snowflake in the losing regards, I know that. But the "why me's" and "why bother" have overtaken any attempts I've made to return to my winning ways that I enjoyed last year.

Sorry for the negative attitude, but I really was hoping I could finally start posting about enjoying the positive aspects of the game again or "guess who's going to Vegas in July!!!".

Its not happening, five months is beyond any streak that I ever imagined.

I've Lost One Million Dollars Playing Poker

Since there’s CONTROVERSY (its the buzz word of choice lately) about gambling due to every athlete, Hollywood celeb, and socialite on the planet coming out to say they’ve lost $XX,XXX,XXX while playing penny slots, I have a confession to make:

I’ve lost at least one million dollars while gambling.

It’s a true statement much like Daly’s or maybe even Barkley. But there are these little very basic concepts we use in accounting to figure out a true figure while computing allowance that vendors are supposed to pay us.

Gross and Net.

Everyone using at least one wrinkle in their brain can figure out that my loss statement can be true simply by adding up all of my losing wagers.

Slot pull on a Monopoly “Once Around” nickel machine: $.75
Multiply that by all the losing spins: 200
And VOILA I’ve lost $150.00 while gambling!

But, didn’t you win on some of your spins?

Of course I did.

No slot machine is cold enough to let you spin 150 times and not win at least 5 credits (its possible, but not likely, slot expert Grubby would be a better reference on long term hot/cold slot streaks).

An angle that poker players can see from:

I lost several hands of poker last night *collective “awwwww” from the crowd* I know, I have HORRIBLE LUCK (not really, I’m actually seeing luck in a different light now after doing some more pokery reading, but that’s a post for another time). Those losing wagers added up to approximately 500 Euros or 631.575 American dollars.

As a true statement I could report that I lost $631.58 making wagers (rounding up because I didn’t feel like sawing a penny in half).

What you don’t see is that I won 540 Euros on my super-terrific World Class Player bluffs and value bets. Ok, I managed to catch a few cards and with my loose (6% of the flops seen at 6-max, is porn star Houston after her 500 guy gang bang loose!) image got someone to pay off my flopped flush with just a pair.

The point is, any poker player or recreational gambler could come out and state “I’ve lost over a million dollars gambling” and their statement would probably be true. In Barkley’s case I do believe his statement to be on the Net side of the equation, I’m sure those wagers on the golf course with Michael Jordan using that god-awful swing of his (see Nike commercial with Tiger Woods’ driver cover needling Barkley) have added up over the years. His interview with Trey Wingo on Sportcenter’s “Hot Seat” where he gave this statement:

"But I've got to understand you can't beat the casino. You might win a lot of
money from them, but in the long run they are going to win more money from you,
and I've got to get to a point where I don't gamble for as much. That's what
I've got to do, because I'm not going to quit gambling because it's my life and
it's my money."

He’s tried to beat the casino and acknowledges the fact that he knows in the long run he won’t win (kudos to Barkley for knowing this simple fact). That shows a novice gambler like me that he understands the wagers he’s making are –EV and its entertainment for him. I didn’t see a statement like that from Daly who just claimed to play some high-stakes slots.

Since there’s no way to compile Daly’s wins/loses there’s no evidence as to exactly what his NET losses are because anyone who gambles and makes wagers on a regular basis could come out with a statement such as his and claim millions of dollars over what their true loses were. My personal estimate would be around the $15-$20 million dollar mark that Barkley stated.

While we’re on that track, why make the public statement at all?

What possible good comes from admitting to such extravagant losses?

* (cue John Daly walking to high limit room at MGM Grand next month)

MGM Host: Welcome back John! We have your seat all ready at the $500 Double Diamond machines, I REALLY think it’s your day to win!!

John Daly: I’d like a $1 million dollar line of credit, I found a penny heads up today after a porn slapper on the Strip dropped his advertisement for $75 female companionship and saw Abe Lincoln staring back at me on the ground.

MGM Host: It is certainly is your day to win!

John Daly: (looks at a Baccarat game going): What’s this Baccarat thing all about?

MGM Host: Oh, don’t worry about all those fancy cards and blinking light tote board, you’d be much more at home with that juicy slot in the corner. Don’t you remember hitting that $100,000 jackpot last time!

John Daly: Yeah, that was pretty cool with all the lights and everyone cheering me on like I just won the PGA Championship. Plus, it only took me eleven racks of $500 coins to hit it!

MGM Host: That’s the Johnny Boy I remember! Now take that lucky penny and get yourself comfortable while Sasha grabs a carton of cowboy killers and diet cokes for you.

* the follow scenario was stupidly fictional and in no way reflects how MGM conducts business with problem gamblers, nor how John Daly pisses away his endorsement and golfing money


Thanks for dropping by, now if you haven’t checked out the new edition of Truckin, I suggest making a doctor’s appointment to get that saw blade dislodged from your head ASAP.

Ik houd van pook te spelen

Ok I don't know if the title is actually saying something to the Dutch that insults their mothers and penis size but I hope not.

Wow, those B2B sites sure get low traffic while the most of the crazy Europeans dream of taking down Marcel Luske in a game of PLO. POTPOTPOTPOTPOTPOTPOT ALL IN!!

If you don’t get this or are late to the party, check out the Rounders parody post here.

It is low traffic at TopRankedPoker during my normal playing time (8 or 9 pm – 11 pm CST). There’s a good and bad side to that coin. The good, get to know the tendencies of the players at your blind levels. I have notes on several players that helps me decide whether I can push this person off his hand or need to tighten up. The bad part is that most of the players are fellow bonus whores, meaning good tight-aggressive players or just plain rocks. Also, this site has forced me out of my comfort shell by primarily spreading only shorthanded games (6-max). Only during the weekend did I see an eight player (full ring for there) game going and that was a NLHE game. PLO8 is non-existent except for a sporadic .10/.20 game that popped up on the weekend.

With the requirements for “VIP points” being a rake of .31 (EUROS!!) the pot needs to reach 6 or 7 euros to qualify for the “VIP point” (thanks Scurvy for the info). At the .25/.50 level this is uncommon at the rather passive tables as a raise takes down the blinds at most times. With trepidation I dipped a heel into the .5/1 waters and found them a little more aggressive but not so much that I needed to borrow one of Little Drizz’s Care Bears pull-ups to play. VIP points rack up a lot faster here as I’m currently at 247 VIP points and just a little ahead of schedule in clearing the bonus by the end of the month. I will NOT mention being ahead at the tables because that would cause unrest in Stockholm and Reykjavik. Not to mention I do not feel like taking a two foot wooden variance clog to the posterior region with untimely bad play.

Yes, I am a boorish American.

There is one more positive point that I failed to mention and that’s the nightly freerolls (that were first introduced to me by Felicia and Glenn on 24h Poker which is another skin in the B2B network) and guaranteed tourneys that are offered. Free money + usual overlays = tourney player heaven. I am not a tourney player and the freeroll structures are VERY aggressive. But with 30 Euros up for grabs, why not spend a quick hour and half playing monkey push poker and get lucky enough to win a Royale with Cheese.

If I manage to clear this bonus in the black from playing, there’s a strong possibility of seeing someone who looks like me ordering Cap’n Cokes at the Boathouse in September. But I don’t want to jinx it, so I won’t mention it.

So, how about dem Twins! Sigh.

I can’t even get myself to watch them lately, opting for Arena Rock or hoping JoeSpeaker’s Greed episode finally airs on GSN to see if he had any hairs out of place when Chuck Woolery denied him again of the pleasures of a big payoff. Wanna sign up for Lingo with me??? The hostess is rather attractive at least and during the host’s introductions you explain to him that “hey remember me, I’m the one who got fucked over on Scrabble because you decided to inhale a bottle of rubber cement during commercial break and speak at the rate of an alcoholic on pot, nice seeing you again Chuckie!”.

*cue audience canned laughter*

Softball season has been begun and I’m waiting today for all three of my muscles to start revolting against normal moment. Our team remained the same from last year with my wife currently not playing to an acute case of pot belly over the normal beer belly limits. Some rain at the beginning of the game soured what was a beautiful day but it was good to be back out on the diamond again.

5 for 5 with a triple, two doubles, and 8 RBIs was a decent start for me as I just couldn’t seem to hit the ball three more feet for home runs, old age coming on fast. Little Drizz filled the time between innings trying to swing a bat bigger then him and falling down several times Looney Tunes style. The competitive side of me came out a little too much with some sarcastic remarks as our shortstop suddenly developed Chuck Knoblauch syndrome and tried to throw the ball to China seven different times in the bottom of the seventh with a nine run lead. After a couple more errors (including a misplay by yours truly) and hits, the tying run was straddling second base. But I managed to get the next lycra enhanced lady batter out without staring too hard at her bouncing… feet?

Yeah, that’s believable.

Thanks for dropping by, now I must return to waiting for the wife to tell me that she’s ready to be less pregnant soon and rush off to the hospital.

Wet Dreams

My close friends love to tell me that “if your dick wasn’t attached to you, you’d probably lose it”. I guess I could always follow the peppermint smell if I didn’t leave in some golf course clubhouse bathroom to find my baby maker. Its funny how memory works, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but I can tell you about Little Drizz farting on my pillow and trying to look innocent about it. I could write about how my wife was as quiet as four lane highway coming out of Minneapolis at 4:30 on a Friday as I climbed into bed last night.

But, you’d think I could remember where I put my wallet.

After all there’s important stuff in there like those free drink coupons for Alleygator’s. The drinks were courtesy of drunken bowling night when I matched the pre-determined drink score in the tenth frame by ceremoniously throwing two gutter balls in exchange for a business card exclaiming my athletic prowlness on the oiled maple lanes.

Pictures of Little Drizz showing a chronological storyline from a little mass of cuteness up to the big, blue-eyed toddler that he is today.

My betting slip from the Plaza last year proclaiming the Twins (so. mad. can’t. talk. about. them. right. now.) to defeat the Yankees of New York. Not only did they lose, a certain live blogging gonzo writer took a fin-ski off me as a side bet (of course the Twins won the series, and I managed to get Abe Lincoln’s portrait back into my black leather wallet before leaving sin city).

A coupon for a free slushy at Target. Getting a slushy at Target doesn’t have the same feel as walking five blocks in the summer time as kid after a neighborhood baseball game to enter the corner 7-Eleven or Circle K and purchase a cup of the swirling ice and syrup goodness. When I go by the diamonds that the 10 or 12 kids gathered on many summer days just a few years ago *cough* more like 20 years *cough* there’s no games going on despite two elementary schools in the area. I guess kids today are more inclined to blast out new high scores on their Xbox 360’s instead of keeping tabs in a notebook on the home runs hit by Brian or BJ.

My poker bankroll. Nice crisp hundreds and twenties, the “roll” isn’t as fat as it once was. Purchasing a poker trophy like a laptop is spendy, not to mention twenty dollars here and there for dinner at Applebee’s or a new train for Little Drizz when the checkbook is showing not-so-black ink. “You need better bankroll management!!” may be a cry from the masses. My working poker bankroll set apart from the mass of wet bills splashed across on my dining room table at this moment. They are virtual American dollars (and Euros, I love me some Euros!!!) spread out over cyberspace in different pixelized card rooms and bank accounts.

“Dave where did you have your wallet last?” asked the bellied one

I sighed as I searched the front seat of the car. Finding some expired Subway and KFC coupons, $9.99 for a 15 piece meal WITH BISCUITS! Yum. A ticket that comes with one of Little Drizz’s Thomas the Tank Engine trains, this one belonged to Lady and yes she’s a really useful engine. Glove box had nothing more then the owner’s manual and some skee-ball tickets for Grand Casino Hinckley.

And then as I walked through the mud room into the downstairs family room, hearing the washer and dryer doing their duty… I vaguely remembered coming home after the poker tournament and having my wallet in my jeans pocket.

“But she would have noticed the bulge and pulled it out”

Nope.

I pulled open the dryer searching thru the semi-soaked clothes to find one very wet wallet stored in my Levis front pocket. I let out an audible sigh as I walked upstairs, knowing my wife would say something about my unmistakable aloofness that surrounds me. She didn’t disappoint as I got a lecture on remembering things and I went back to happily snarfing down the leftover BBQ beef my mom shipped over for dinner tonight.

Don’t ask me to remember to bring the chicken casserole and crock pot to the pot luck, but if you need to know the last five sets of doorcards and how people bet them while playing Razz or Stud, I’m your man.

Selective memory?

I think that’s what Minnesota Twins fans are using right now while cheering for their team.

Thanks for dropping by, now if you’re stuck in a rut while blogging go check out Bill Rini's latest 2 part post. I’m not sure what my “voice” is besides bad grammar and a few metaphors that hit the mark less then the Twins starting pitching rotation (sorry couldn’t help it). But, I do appreciate people’s kind comments about the words I throw up into the internet.

Thanks again folks.

Rebuy!!!

I see the Twinkies are trying to make Aaron’s head explode early this year. Pssst, hey Ronny… losing 33-1 over a weekend to Detroit isn’t exactly the “shot of adrenalin” that the team needed after the drubbing you took in Chicago. In fact some people may say that the Tibetan National Team hits for average better then your patched together “major league ballclub”.

Last year’s Twins Pitchers: “WHAT THE FUCK, we give up two runs a night and you can’t get a few measly base hits with runners in scoring position!?!?!@?@?”

This year’s Twins Pitchers: “Um, yeah, so do you think Pujols will break Barry’s single season home run record?? Dome dogs are half priced? Score!”

People are pointing towards a “rough schedule” and vets that need time to gel together as a team. Well, 33-1 drubbings over a weekend at the major league level are about as encouraging as your prom date laying down to slip off that cleavage revealing midnight blue satin gown beneath the mirror on the ceiling over to whisper in your ear inside a $350 Westin hotel suite (that took you seven extra shifts at Jack In The Box to sport for) to tell you… “my sores went away last night so we should be ok”.

You’re welcome for the visual on a Monday.

My uninspired poker play continued this weekend as I managed to dump a couple hundred into the bank accounts of some of PartyPoker’s finest. But, I managed to tread water at Full Tilt and Full Contact Poker to minimize the soreness to the hind quarters. In light of my recent ass backwards play I decided to go on a bonus whoring mission of great proportions (more to the point of 1/4th of my bankroll). ScurvyDog mentioned a Euro site of TopRankedPoker (B2B skin) offering a sizable bonus that is payable in 30 days. This will give me a chance to earn some cash while not tempting me to blow through the required raked hands faster then a teenage boy finding blurry porn for the first time on late night cable and finding out what happens when slick willy gets a little too excited. I think Nadia had experience with this phenomenon but I wonder if the Mansion boys asked her about it…

No sex for three months gets me sidetracked.

The site does have lower traffic but for those who love shorthanded NLHE games it could be a gold mine. Since that’s the only thing that is running generally, almost all of the tables are 6-handed and with the smaller site you can note who to tangle with and who to avoid fairly easily. My goal is to earn 100 VIP points (3000 needed to clear the bonus) a night for the month of May and hopefully earn enough of the bonus to have my first profitable month this year. At first glance there’s some exceedingly odd play as many of the players love the min raise on the turn with air and later on get you to pay off their trips while holding 42s or a similar junk hand.

Plus you can play Soko!

Basically Soko is 5 card draw with a 4 flush and 4 straight beating one pair (4 flush beats a 4 straight as well). This game is played as Pot Limit and the true bonus whores should be smart enough to see if a 0-.50 game is running, that means there’s no ante and you can blissfully fold your way to raked hands (if that’s your desire) only being forced to bet if your 1st up card is high.

This site is played for Euros, so make sure you put that into account before buying in, and it seems that the pot needs to hit around five Euros to earn a VIP point. So far I’ve been earning points at the .25/.50 tables with mild ease. Its definitely not as easy as Party’s reload bonuses but a 600 Euro addition to my bankroll would certainly be welcomed at this point. Something about watching the accumulating red ink on my daily poker ledger has me backpedaling like husband who just told his wife to shut the fuck up and realizes after he comes through with a toaster sized lump on his head that those words may have been a tad blunt.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Besides poker of the online variety I managed to set up a small live tourney with some close friends on Saturday. Mom decided to cater (without being asked) and spread some love handles expanding goodness that soaked up most of my Cap’n Cokes. BBQ beef, cheesy po-ta-toes, teriyaki chicken wings, chocolate chip bars, rice kripsy bars, and chips of several variations were laid out for mass consumption. And after watching the Vikes blow yet another draft (it remains to be seen, but why didn’t they go after Leinhart or Cutler????) I was in need of a little gluttony.
The first tourney I unfortunately set up the structure to end the game at sometime after Christmas but managed to carve out a chop for first out of nine people. The second tourney we played a $5 + $5 bounty tourney which was very lucrative for my dad as he took five of the ten bounties (including mine) and first place. The aggressive structure in the second game allowed for us to get done at a reasonable hour and have enough break time to add four pounds to my expanding frame from all that food. Burp.

I was hoping for some more people at the tourney but the lightness in attitude towards the UB Kem cards being turned over and being surrounded by good friends made for a fun time that broke the recent air of futility that I’ve been displaying on the virtual felt on a nightly basis.

It seems all I can talk about lately is (insert good hand here beat by not-so-good-hand here) or some inane cold decking that really doesn’t fuckin matter. Play the hands the way they are supposed to be played or out-think your opponent. Don’t bemoan the fact that the end result doesn’t favor you.

Those are the type of things I should be worried about, not KK vs. AA or losing with Aces Full vs. Quads or KK losing to a rivered flush by 95sOOOOted. Those are just hands that you do not have control of, so stop whining.

I’m talking to myself by the way.

I’m sure most of the people who read here have a much better grasp on the gambling aspect of this game. Maybe I just need a .wav file from Felicia shouting “STOP YOUR WHINING DRIZZ!!” and click on it each time I let those negative thoughts enter my game.

Thanks for dropping by, now if your happy and you know it and your face really shows it, if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands.

I hope that song is now firmly lodged into your heads MUWAHAHAHAHA.