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Thursday, February 18, 2010

FINALLY! A cash...only took two freaking weeks!

But hold on...since we are getting current, lets start with today's debacle. I arrive in the middle of Level 2, standard. I have 8 good players at my table. All of whom I know fairly well. Okay, good! I like that. Unfortunately I am also at one of those tiny-ass stud tables. And its an early breaking table. Oh well.

I get 7 pairs early. 33, 44, 55, 77, JJ, 66, and 44 again. I lose with them all. I win two big pots. Both on semi bluffs. I fail to pull the trigger on two others. I get caught in one. Our table breaks...and despite all the ups and downs, I still have close to a starting stack. 11k. Get moved to Table 61. Oh god. I sit down. I see Dave Kopacz's wife, Stacy. Dave was just at my other table. Stacey is a very, very tight tourney player. And we are friendly. No one els at the table makes sense. And in the 7 seat is MR ASSHOLE. The guy from two weeks ago, the prick who decides to show me the bluff with a huge pot, deep in a tourney that I almost/should have cashed. The dick who would make the final table. Its safe to say that I despise this guy. And he is so ugly. Big, muscular, but just ugly. With a porn-stache. I am being told by guys to my right that he has already shown the bluff on three seperate occasions. Lovely.

You know who he is? he is that guy in high school who never, ever got laid. He tried, and he tried...but somehow, girls just found him repulsive. So what is doing now? He is finding joy in the things that anyone like me and my cool friends would never have to resort to. Why? Because he is a punk. A 40+ year old loser punk. I put a 'silent $50 bounty' on him with my end of the table. He starts telling the table "Dont worry, he'll give away his chips." The hatred festers.

Third hand at the new table. Me with 11,500 chips. Blinds 100/200. UTG limps. One caller. Two callers. Three callers. I have KK on the button. Think about making it 1000. But I'm tired of playing strong hands too heavy. I make it 800. Who calls? How about EveRYONE. Flop comes A-Q-8. Two spades. Great. Everyone checks to me. I'm frozen. I check. 7 on turn. Thug looking jackass with his straight-billed ball cap makes it 1600. Older guy in his brand new Texas A&M hat (Aggies suck!) calls. Monkey folds. And sighs. River is a spade. Mexi-Thug bets 2700. Aggie lover calls. Thug folds. I demand to see the cards. It went to showdown. I want to see his effing cards! He freaks out. Whatever. Sure, maybe its questionable poker decorum, but I want to see what these assclowns are calling 4x raises with. For my own information. And I am entitled. The floor is called. I win. I get to see his cards. 5-7 off suit. Holy shit. The other guy had Q9s. Not a gem either...but he was last in...so it could be argued that he was priced in. wonder if they'd have folded for 1k. Fucking sick how these people play.

So a few hands later, after the dust settles, I pick up KK again! Okay...lets get creative. I limp for 200. And super douche makes it 800. Sweet. I whisper to the guy next to me that I was laying a trap for the fucker. Mr. 5-7 calls the 800. How perfect. Folds around to me. I look at shitball's stack. He has about 7800. I raise top 4000. Why you ask? Because I think he might just call or ship. Which...to my non-amazement becuase he is JUST THAT BAD...he does. Turns over AQ. Ugh. Hate seeing the ace. Couldnt he just have KQ? Flop comes......5......6........9. Okay good so far. Turn comes........3....okay okay...just one more to go......and the river.............dont do it Stephen....dont do it.....just put like a J out  there buddy......come on....get this prick outa here....please.....FUCK! MOTHERF#*&(#@*(&$  Ace on the river. I literally felt like I just got kicked in the stomach. Stephen looks at me with a panicked look that says "Oh my god Monkey, I'm sorry, please dont kill me, please don't blog about me...." Don't worry Stephen, I like you, its not your fault. I know you were rooting for me there. Unreal. Just sat there....in stunned silence. And dickface over there was, for once...not cooing after winning a hand. I was just numb.

I would get some satisfaction. I sat there folding one shitty hand after another, sitting on only 1800...but not about to give up. French guy limps early for 200. It folds to Captain Cocksucker in the BB. He raises to 800. The Frog calls. The flop comes J-10-6. Two hearts. Dikky bets out 1500. Frenchy raises to 5000. Why, exactly I'm not really sure, but he does. And the fuckbird goes all in. Snap call...frenchy? 10-10-10. Dumbshit? AJ. Q on the turn gives him a sweat...and the table grumbles....but he misses the river...and is now down to about what I have. Stupid motherfucker.

Five hands later he goes all in with A5 and gets called, and felted by "The Aggie" with QQ. See ya later cockboy. Hope a bus hits you out on Las Vegas BLVD.

Uh oh...its now 6:46. I really want to be on time for this shit storm of a tourney. They like to give away chips early in this shitshow.

Oh...how did I go out? The blinds went to 200/400/. I was UTG...first card was an Ace...I was down to 1400. I chucked my stack before getting the 2nd card. It was a 2. Yikes. Whatever. I ran into, what else? KK. I flop a 2...just walked away...figured if I sucked out I would hear that sound...you know it.? That group.....OHHHHHHHH!!!!! To which I would have returned. That sound never came. I lose. Damn Kings. Damn Donkeys. Damn February. Damn 2010. Damn Poker. Dammit!

Okay you know what? Im taking this to the table. I'll finish it there!

Monkey

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