The Barn is ALMOST full/sold out!

Another day in Paradise!

I am in my room now at 2am looking for the silver lining to this trip. I think I have found it, and that silver lining would be the incredible service I will be doing for my fellow poker players (the good ones) when I finish with the task of filling up the Barn (Monkey's Barn-new feature, coming soon) with Tunica's finest (big, big play on words there) in this endeavor I have taken on.

Today, we enjoyed another remarkable day of rounding up donkeys, photographing them (finally figured out how to turn the flash off of my camera phone, thus enabling me to 'stealthily' snap their photo) and preparing to assemble the Tunica Stable at the conclusion of this trip. I would assume that we can expect to see some, if not a majority, of these bozos come two weeks from now in Biloxi.

I continue to love my room. I continue to want to hunt down and kill the person responsible for the temperature in the room where everyone assembles every day to play poker. I find great pleasure in tossing extra complicated words at people whom I know to have the equivalence of a 3rd grade education. And again, I thoroughly enjoy the thoughts that cross my mind as I work up the profile for each one of these donkeys that will be soon appearing.

Lets talk about today. Briefly, though please...because anything too detailed might result in my tossing my laptop in the bathtub, along with myself, where I will then be electrocuted. Sparing me a certain cooler beat tomorrow, but creating an awful mess for the maids. Poor ladies. I wonder how many times they have wandered in for their morning chores to find someone dead in their room. Pretty creepy thought!

You know what is weird? Despite now being down about a grand or so on this trip...I really, truly feel SO dialed in right now. I have been making such good reads, making good calls...putting 95% of my opponents on the right hand. It is what makes this 'gig' so hard though, because as good as I might think I am playing, inevitably it comes down to some clown making a retarded play and getting lucky, and watching all of your hard work go right down the mother(*@#*&(#! toilet in one fell swoop. I think most of you prescribe to this point of view and really understand where I am coming from. Mental discipline. That is the key. And I am really trying, I really am. I am 25x more level-headed than I was two years ago at this time.

I suppose a great reason for this has to do with having a such a supportive backer in my corner. She really is amazing. When I am running bad she offers me very encouraging thoughts, to kind of bring me down from the ledge. It makes it a lot better after a couple of days from hell, knowing that as bad as it gets, she will be there when things turn back around for the good, and we will drink wine, eat steak...and celebrate!

So...today. Ugh. Show up close to on time for the noon tourney. Win the first hand I play. AQ out of the SB against a Button raise. Flop A. Get no action. It would be the last hand I win. NOTHING, I mean NOTHING was going my way. Had a guy who pretty much got whatever he needed. He limps in with AQ with the blinds 100/200. I am in the BB with 94s. Flop comes AA7...two spades. Not bad. But nothing to get into too deep. Checks around. Turn is a 9. Wow, okay, two pair now..with the spade draw. Interesting. Check. Now the guy bets out. I raise him 3x. He tanks. Finally, he moves all in. Whatever, how bad could I be here? Oh....bad, my friends. BAD. He just happens to have AQ....can a monkey catch a spade on the river please? No? Lovely....thanks, I will be leaving now.

I play a $125 SNG. Holding a HUGE chiplead with 4 left, and me and Mr. Muscles (think his name is Ken) have all the chips. Dopey UTG has 2200 and cant decide how much he wants to raise. I look at my hand and see AA. He raises 800. Huh? Whatever, I grab 2500 and raise. Mr. Muscles goes into this "ohhhh, Monkey, Monkey, Monkey....dude, I cant fold this" I tell him he might want to reconsider this decision. He doesnt. He moves all in. He has QQ. Other fool has QJ. Thats right. QJ. You heard me. Not a big deal though....Q on the turn. I am now crippled. I struggle to stick around til we get to 3. They offer to chop 3 ways. I TAKE THE DEAL! $300. Need it.

I play another SNG...this one after taking a death march to the Buffet with a couple of other players, Kai Landry, Kyle Milam and Scott Beck...where I am pretty sure I faded the 33% odds on me getting food poisoning after sweating a meal at the Buffet, ANY Buffet. I run bad in those damn botulism factories. Always have. The food was pretty disgusting, nonetheless. I didnt touch the meat, but according to the Food Critics I dined with it was easily comparable to shoe leather. The quote of the day goes to Kai Landry...who when the waiter asked us how everything was (for about the 8th freaking time)...replied "I think this meat came from an Old Milk cow who passed away from natural causes." Classic. I made a ill-advised stop by the "Asian Cuisine" counter and rolled the dice with a few pieces of sushi. Yikes. One of the pieces, no idea what it was...made me almost throw up...had to get it out of my mouth...ASAP...and found a garbage can. I will NOT be revisiting the buffet. At least the servers were nice though. Not their fault the food is shitty.

This SNG gos a bit better. No details here. But I get down to 3 and we are all anxious to play the 7pm 2nd chance tourney, so we chop it 3 ways again. Good...hey any profit now is welcomed!

Get into the 2nd chance. Things couldnt start any better. Sitting with 66...I limp for 50. Four callers find the button raising to 350. Ahhhh for the love of Tunica and the Barn full of Donkeys....must EVERYONE overbet every GoshDang hand? Whatever! I decide I am calling. Well so do 4 other players. Perfect. About a 1600 pot preflop. The flop comes....ya ready? 6-9-5, rainbow. First dude checks. Quoi? (thats French, my friends...for WHAT? Just keeping ya'all on your toes) I check, of course (duh, you all KNOW I am the King 'o the Check raise). And our raiser affectionately makes it $750. Well, first guy goes all in. Obviously, I am not folding, even if the guy SHOWS me 7-8. If he called 350 with 7-8 he deserves to win. Plus, I plan to fill up. I package up my belongings and Fed Ex them to the center of the ring as well. GodSpeed chips! Other dude calls as well. I am up against JJ (second guy) and KK (original raiser). Somehow....I manage to fade the 4 outer (two J's, two K's) and we are sitting on $13k now! Sweet.

I get moved to another table. Not long after, I lose with QQ vs. 1010. I have taken this guys picture. You will see it later. Lets call him, redfaced redneck with racing hat who thought raising 1700 (with 150/300 blinds) UTG with 1010 would be a good play, leaving himself with 1600 behind, and effectively ZERO fold equity. Well done you jackass. So of course he DOESNT fold to my re raise...and he promptly flops a ten. Sweet! So instead of having 18K, I now have closer to 6K.

I double up with 99 vs. AK. Then later I make a pretty big play with 88 in the BB, behind a raise UTG, from a guy who thinks the UTG is the new button. You know that guy. (he folds, turns out he had 66....the NUTS on this night. Pretty much EVERYONE who had 66 flopped a set. It was sick, and kind of creepy considering its Friday the 13th. Whoa!) Well, the dude in the SB had smooth called with AKc. Huh? Well, he calls, and bricks the entire board, and now...Monkey has a lot of chips, and is starting to dream about a final table wtih many Snappers and $4500 waiting at the end of the rainbow.

Cue to the outhand. I blind down and get the inevitable situtation where you raise with K10d, or some shit like that...and have to fold to an all in behind your raise (hate that!) so I am hanging around with 22K...blinds are now 800/1600, and realistically, with 11 left, I have enough to make the final table by just folding. But you know what? I see 9th place/$340 and I think..."what a joke"...compared to 1st place $4500. Well, this guy behind me raises to 4000. I look down at 10-10, which has kind of been 'my hand' this week. Hmmmm. This guy is incredibly tight. And has already made some huge folds. I kind of think I might just fold this hand. Then I also think "I know this guy doesnt want to bubble, and picking up 10K in chips here would be pretty nice for my stack...I dont REALLY want to just flat call here (which...had I done, would have bore out the same result, incidently)...so its either all or nothing." What do I do? I move in, and PRAY that he folds. He insta-calls. SHIT! Show me your AA/KK buddy. He does. Dammit. And I fail to hit a 10. At least he was a nice guy. I very graciously shake his hand, tell him nice hand...wish every one good luck...then go out into the hall, rip off my hat, kick it all over the hallway...and tell myself how unbelievably STUPID that was of me to call there. The flop came all rags, as I mentioned, so had I flatted it, it was going in anyway most likely. DAMMIT though....why? THE BUBBLE! Then of course you get to watch them all get settled in for the Final Table, which they ended up chopping not long after I was eliminated. Some times I get the feeling these people just wait until they have whacked ME, and then they all chop. Weird. Happens all the time. Especially at the Beau and in the 2nd chance tourneys. Cowards!

But hold up. The fun isnt over yet for me on this glorious day.

But before I get there....I dont want to forget this. I would just HOPE that I dont have ANY of YOU people who read this pulling this stunt. I like to think all of my blog readers are of the classy ilk.

When I go to the mens room on a tourney break...and open a stall door, and look down at the toilet seat, and it appears as if someone intentionally went in there with the goal of putting as much urine as possible on there...it makes me want to punch someone in the face. Please...CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES you jerkoffs. Or hey, how about just LIFTING UP THE FREAKING TOILET SEAT you troclodytes! (another fancy word there heathens, means CAVEMAN!) Another thing I find joy (or disgust) in is standing and watching people come out of bathroom stalls and walk right on by the water and soap. DUDDDDDE! Then I see them at my table and bring it up. Hey buddy...before I have to touch the cards and chips that you just rubbed your feces all over, ya think maybe you could swap them out for me? You pig!

So, I bubble the 7pm. Nikki is shouting for ONE MORE SEAT on a $280. I really, truly do NOT want to play this. But then it dawns on me...you know, I'm looking at the players, and they all pretty much suck balls. How bout winning this, for $2500, and ending the day on a great note!?? Why not? So I grab a card. Five seat. In the 4 seat is that Norman Bates-like psychopath from the big fracas at the Horseshoe in September. He is card dead early...can't catch anything, and is mumbling under his breath and shoootin evil glares at our dealer, Heather (yeah, you got it...HEATHER....of Heather and George "we cooler Monkey" Inc.).

Early on, after winning a couple small pots, I limp with Q10c. Several others limp. Button makes it 175. Of course. EVERYONE calls. Of course. Its Tunica after all. Well, here comes our dream flop (I thought)....10s-9c-8c. Wow. Lets see, top pair. Straight draw, flush straw, STRAIGHT FREAKING FLUSH DRAW! Hmmm...yeah, I am in bad shape here. Check. I check. Next guy GOES ALL IN behind me for 1700. Original raiser goes all in (he has AA)...and the next guy goes all in. Wow. No way in hell I am folding this hand. I call. FOUR WAY ALL IN! Dude behind me (clearly retarded, but who's picture I forgot to snap) has 7-8, no club! AA for the other guy. And the last one has QJ. Damn. One of my outs gone. NO ONE has a flush draw. TURN? 4 of hearts. RIVER? 4 of Spades! COME ON!

I win a very small side pot, and now have 425. SHIT! Well, take it easy monkey...double up with 1010, and then AK with another 4 way all in! Now have over 5k and now dreaming about winning this. Everything goes to shit. Dude...who's picture I DID take....with the Arkansas hat, the bad mustache and the vest that no one wears west of the Mississippi River since 1974....limps for 400. Two more limp. Here is the thinking here as I look down at AKd. This clown has called EVERY standard raise when he has limped. And once HE calls my raise, if I raise...the others will too. I think taking down 2200 here would be the right play. So I ship it. Anddddddd, he calls, all his chips...with 44. "I thought I was probably good." Good read sir. How are your pigs and chickens this week? I fear for their lives. (I dont know what that means either, just felt like injecting a farm animal reference) I manage to hit NOTHING. And now....again...I am back down to a shitty 1300 chips.

Daddy-o doubles me up on the very next hand with my 1010 (again!) vs his J-9. Thanks. 2800 now. I win a couple more pots...to get to 3500, and now think maybe I can actually do it. I know Heather is PRAYING that I win, and get off the DUO SCHNEID. Well...hereeee we go, Psycho Boy has been finally getting some cards and chipping up a little. He now has 3700. He raises on the button for 1300. I look at AQ and move all in. He groans. And calls. Turns over QJ. Well, about as much as I could hope for. Heather slaps a Q on the flop. Okay....would have preferred an Ace, but it beats the hell out of a Jack...which is what she delivers on the river....I just stare....at the table, and get that familar feeling we all know and love. You know the one, like someone just reached down your throat and ripped out your heart, lungs and snagged your balls from you while they were at it. Then make that slow, painful march back to your room...where everyone wants to add to the misery by discussing THEIR horrible day. Wow. This is...for real, the toughest job in America.

Left something out yesterday. Here is a really good idea for dealers who are looking to get fired. Lets just say you are a guy dealer, and you are dating a chick dealer. You are both off work, and decide to go play a $125 SNG. Lets say that the dude dealer is in the BB, with, lets call it 2100 chips...and you are the chick dealer and you have somewhere in the neighborhood of 3500 chips. You decide to raise 1200. With, oh yeah...AQ. Then when it comes around to the BB...you're buddy...he goes all in. What do you do there? Do you fold for 900? And basically let everyone with half a brain know that you are working together to chip him up? Or do you decide "Ya know, there are some full-time pro's at this table who probably are NOT going to let me get away with this bullshit" and make the call? I think MOST of you probably make the call. Instead of telling us all how you KNOW that you can't win because him going all in tells you that you are beat?

Some times it amazes me how others will totally discount your ability to use common sense to arrive at a conclusion. I am not going to mention any names here. Frankly there were plenty of witnesses, I don't feel I even need to. And in fact, I most likely wouldnt have even brought it up....if not for the fact that after I called attention to it, the comeback made me want to put my fist through a wall.

"At least I don't go write on 2+2 about how I cheat!" Which was broadcast over an area easily heard by 5 or 6 tables. Well, I believe she was using bits and pieces of information; the Beau Rivage blog episode, which most of you know about, and know it wasnt a 'cheating issue' but more just a lack of common sense, and information that was misconstrued for the most part and the 2+2 bullshit where I was asked to assist a friend of Jonathan Little's who allegedly got robbed at gunpoint in Peru, and needed emergency funds, which my sucker ass fell for and sent, only to have it turned around, using Shannon Shorr as the Middle Sucker, and implicating ME as the scam author. Yeah. That was a fun day. Thankfully, Poker Stars came out and completely cleared my name, and I was issued apologies from Shannon and Jonathan both...but I have to say, its always nice when a person who is completely uninformed likes to whip that information out in front of my peers. Someone who's job it is to deal to me at just about every tournament. Yeah. Good judgement. This dealer is effectively 'dead to me' now.

That concludes another extremely long Monkey Blog, one that I thankfully won't be struggling to write first thing in the morning. I have a $550 tomorrow, and would like to be fresh, and on time. I MUST cash this damn thing. I MUST! If I dont, I will play a mega, to try and make the Main Event (a $2700 buy in event). Should I fail in my efforts there, and should I not find someone willing to stake me in it...I will get in my 4runner, lick my wounds, and return to Biloxi...to see my sweetie and my awesome dogs! See, there is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel! And it isnt ALWAYS a train! Just sometimes! :)

MONKEY