All's well that ends well.
It was night of crashing and burning on the virtual felts and on the softball diamond with our previously unblemished record taking a beating. Mostly my play versus the wunderkind poker abilities of my fellow low limit players. They of course were playing perfectly as described in the encyclopedia of new poker books they've ingested while 15-tabling $5/$10 NLHE tables.
Thanks to Dr. Chako on the rail, I managed to squeak out a profit for the night with another deep cash in a 90 man tourney wiping out another futile attempt at the nightly $20 NLO8 tourney and assorted low limit shovefests at Full Tilt. Trying and failing is better than the alternative 100% of the time whether you're talking about relationships, sex, talking to your kids about their wonderful behavior at Applebee's that ended with those free crayons getting embeded into the table, or while playing this card game.
I'm off to the cabin as usual after picking up the boy at his last day of Kindergarten.
I think ice cream is deserved don't you? Peppermint bon bon? Dipped cone at the DQ? Mr. Misty?
Since my brain is fried at the moment the words escaping onto the page today are just a placemark for when I return to do the Sunday Warm-up and start the countdown to degeneracy in Chicago at five days.