No pressure or anything...but I have been here for 30 days now...and I am running out of chances to take home enough money to calm my nerves, my wife's nerves, my dogs appetite for skoobie snacks, my backer's confidence in me, and my ability to continue thumbing my nose at the prospect of that thing we professional poker players fear the most....'GETTING A REAL JOB!!!!!!'
|Yeah...this is what I have waiting for me on the horizon if I continue to get my AA cracked by stupid assholes who think KJ offsuit is a hand that is perfectly acceptable for calling 4x re-raises with.|
There was a tiny bit of good news today, received while painfully being subjected to Mark 'No Neck' McGrath and his 'Don't Forget the Lyrics' while trying to wake up this morning. I can't think of one show on TV that is more annoying than that pile of shit. It's funny to go watch Karaoke...and watch people make complete jagoffs of themselves. What's even funnier...is when you see those people who you KNOW are taking it really, super seriously...actually making it a 'career' almost. Those are the ones you go to see because you need someone to hate on. And then...once they feel they have conquered everything there is to conquer in the world of Karaoke...they take their 'skillz' to a broader audience...a.k.a. Mr. No Necks pile of shit game show.
Today...and, don't get me wrong...I know I have the option of 'turning the channel' on my TV here in the Riviera that likes to mysteriously shut itself off every 1 hour and 23 minutes. No idea why. And no...I know what some of you are thinking and about to leave as a comment...it is NOT set to 'sleep timer' mode. Already checked that out. My channel options are very limited...pretty sure that is on purpose, to keep us OUT of our rooms and gambling, as much as possible. Pretty sure I am sidebarring again. Might not even write about poker today at ALL...as I need to get to Rio for what promises to be another huge mutant field of close to 1000 idiots in the 2pm Deepstack.
Where was I? Oh...yeah...about to bitch about the most annoying woman I have ever seen. More annoying than that mumbling, Upper-Michigan dwelling C-word from my table in the 10pm at Rio the other night...the day I lost 5 tourneys in one day...tying a record previously set a couple weeks ago. At least I had the pleasure of watching that irritating, chain-smoking who** get her set busted and put on the rail before I was. I paid the guy who busted her $20 for making my life better. No...it was NOT a bounty...and NO...no one knew I was going to pay him. It just seemed like a good time to tip the waiter...I mean, bitch killer.
So this lady today on 'The Show?' Everything she said was followed by...."Whooooooooo!!!! Yeahhhhhhhhh" And a big cheerleader leg kick. I'm not kidding. If she locked in the lyrics and they were right? Which she only did twice...she did a big spin move, leg kick followed by the splits on the stage. I shit you not. If I could have killed her with my eyes...or made a piano fall from the sky and land on her....she would have been dead. When they cut away to her 'awesomest boyfriend ever' you could tell that it was as good as she would EVER do. This guy was bald, dumpy and clearly a brow-beaten fool. And the girl...was actually attractive, with a nice body...but just...well, you guys don't need more of an explanation do you? No normal, handsome, half way cool man is EVER going to hook up with THAT girl. No way. This poor sap has to actually go out in public with this freaky bitch and introduce to his friends (if he even has any) to her...talk about a deal killer!
Rod Badhair-o-vich has been re-tried, and found guilty! AMEN. Finally, someone in this country has gotten what they deserve! Now if we could just put the oil executives on trial and watch those fu**ers being led away in shackles...I think we could all have a 'flash mob' celebration in unison, in say...Times Square in NYC.
|Bye Bye Rod...sorry, but you AREN'T above the law, pal. Enjoy those fake mashed potatoes and your slice of bologna that will come your way on a daily basis you clown. And don't hesitate to let them kennel your ferret while you're away!|
The other day...when I was losing five tourneys...I was in...Mmmmm, I believe it was the 6pm at Rio...which had backed up to 7pm...which allowed me to get in, after busting the 2pm that had been delayed to 4pm. Yeah...don't even try to stay with me here. Despite the Rio having something like 4,873,204 tables this year...they are drawing such HUGE turnouts that the later tourneys are STILL having to be backed up and delayed due to a lack of tables. Which I don't mind...since I am almost ALWAYS late to every tourney...either by design, or by accident...it works out pretty good for me. I actually end up being on time once in awhile.
So in this 7pm'er...I get moved to a table...into the 6 seat, and when I look over to the ten seat, I literally started laughing! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. This guy was completely going for the Sammy Farha table look. I mean...it was almost perfect. Same hair do. Same glasses. Even sat the same way. Same facial expressions. And of course, the retarded cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Yes...I took his picture. No, I will not post it here. You will have to settle for the real Sammy. I posted on my Facebook the hilarity, and invited people to come by my table to check out the Sammy Poser. I had, what? Three guys come by to check him out? And of course, they laughed as hard as I did.
At some point I started calling him 'Little Sammy' and had the whole table in stitches...I mean, they were ALL thinking it...and it always cracks me up when people WANT to say something....so bad, but just won't. But these are the same people who, if they were playing online poker...would never hesitate to type into the chat bar whatever they were/are thinking. Right? Sorry, but I have no problem saying what's on my mind, especially if its said in a non-hostile fashion. This clown LOVED IT when I started calling him Little Sammy. Why? Because, duh...obvious answer here...the guy was a fucking toolshed. And a lousy poker player.
|Sammy...we found your illegitimate son. Please collect him from our table, and while you're at it...teach him how to play poker. Hey Sammy, its okay to tip your dealer and stop throwing your cards at them too. Have a nice day. Still hate you.|
You all know I go by the moniker "The Monkey" obviously, right? Well, guess who, at the same table was seated in the two seat? Out of guesses? Good, cuz I am now running out of time. It was...the actual...MONKEY! I did NOT take this guy's photo, mainly because I could never get the proper angle. But if you look at the cartoon below, it will pretty much suffice as the same thing.
|Just because they LOOK like a cute loveable Monkey does NOT mean they aren't a complete douchebag. No...I am not talking about myself...for I am a completely loveable Monkey.|
Now, in my attempts to be a softer, kinder, more caring Monkey...I have tried to put myself in spots where I might feel a little empathy. I am looking at this....this....well, Monkey Boy...in the two seat, and he is making all these goofy facial expressions, like a Monkey. He raises, someone goes all in...and his face, ears and eyes start contorting. Holy shit! This guy belongs in a zoo. He was about 5'5 too. Which didn't help. I kept imagining him sitting on my shoulder as we played some street corner for buy ins. Then I started feeling sorry for him.
"Imagine going through life looking like this poor guy. I bet he's actually a really sweet guy...wouldn't he HAVE to be? I'm not going to make fun of him. In fact...if given the chance, I am going to befriend him."
Forget that. It only took two statements coming from his face before I decided instead of being warm and fuzzy that I instead wanted to Tazer his ass. It became very apparent that he was a product of internet poker. Making stupid overshoves...then defending them with logic that made no sense. He uttered about three or four of the most arrogant statements I'd heard this week...not to me, as I was firmly locked into a fierce battle of 'Words With Friends' while listening to B.oB. on Pandora...but another guy at the table. But after his last statement...he just morphed into the Evil Little Monkey who I am almost positive is either IN the closet...or will be coming out very soon.
Okay quick poker wrap up...then I have to go.
I now have a total of 7 cashes.
VENETIAN NIGHTLY: 2nd place, 6th place, 13th place
RIO 2PM: 9th place
CAESERS OMAHA: 13th place
CAESERS 4pm TURBO: 13th Place
and somewhere in there I'm forgetting one...but who cares?
Two days ago...in the 2pm at Rio...with 915 players...we get down to 130...or 35 from the money. I had not had AA or KK all day...and was just winning with skill and savvy. I finally get KK. Two hands after shoving my 12 BB's all in with AJ...and taking the pot to get up to 85k (at 3k/6k) I get KK and raise to 20k. Anyone? Hello? I'm just raising. Not shoving. Red flag? Probably a monster right? Okay...so man who looks like a Duckbill Platypus in the SB flats me with AQ. Fair enough. He had 120k to start the hand. But when the flop comes J-6-2 rainbow...and he insta-shoves...I certainly wasn't folding...and of course, when the dealer rattled off the Ace of Spades on the turn...followed by nothing on the river...instead of sitting at around 190k and coasting into the money after a treacherous 8 hour grind, I was instead collecting my shit and lining up for the 10pm tourney...which would result in me hating everything about Philadelphia.
Now...don't you think that idiot might have just put out a bet of...oh I don't know...say 25k? Maybe 30k? To see if he could just make me fold? Maybe fold behind my shove like the guy at Ceaser's yesterday who kept trying to lead out on every flop after I'd raised preflop...only to fold after I either jammed on him or re-raised? Naw...he is a Duckbilled Platypus...and they don't operate like that...they just close their eyes, hold their beak, shove in their chips, and pray.
PRAYER ANSWERED DIPSHIT. $39,000 for first place in that one.
In the next one, I get Mr Philly Guido on my right. Bad hair, bad jewelry, bad accent, bad poker game. Buddy loses his phone...or, OMG...had it stolen maybe...during the 1st break. And this clown starts calling everyone a 'fag' for stealing his buddy's phone.
"People are fags! Just fags!"
Really? I'm wondering...hmm...wonder how many gay people are sitting here at this table wanting to watch this guy's flesh melt off of his bones while being attacked by a pack of vicious wolves? Sure at least a couple.
So I had just finished working over this guy with a set of Queens...getting all but his remaining 700 chips and working my 7500 starting stack up to a quick 21k when knucklehead from Philly decides to take it from 75/150 to 700 at cutoff. Huh? Smells like Jacks to me? And so when I look down at AK suited...a hand I am never folding there...not in a $125 tourney, no way....I also notice that he has left only 3200 behind his raise. Nice play sir. So what do I do?
"Well, based on your raise, I think I know what you have...and with my hand, you have created a real situation for me....hmmm....so I guess I will raise to 2200 and let you do what you're gonna do."
Now this is usually where a player either just folds, or ships all in. What does Phillytard do? He smooth calls. I breathe a sigh of relief when the flop comes K-7-2. The players in the 1 and 2-seats both give me that "Way to hit your King" look...and then....wait...huh? Dummy moves all in?
"Um...okay...I will call your all in with pocket jacks, right?" and turn over my AK...only to see, what else? Oh! Pocket Jacks...duh.
No sweat...dealer turns him a Jack...he does the South Philly fist pump...with some kind of Pauly D/The Situation grunt...and I entered the 'Beginning of The End' zone in that tourney. And watched the idiot make one lousy play after another that somehow kept working out for him.
This is when you start totally losing your faith in poker.
Yesterday...after busting out of the Venetian nooner with a flop where I hit top set...got the bottom set guy to get it in with me...only to watch him river quads...I went over to Caeser's to play the 4pm turbo...with Justin 'Choctaw' Kruger in tow...who had also just busted...right after having just busted the Rio $1000...yes, he is running ALMOST as bad and unlucky as I am this summer...only he is the one who got fleeced for around 2k in a game of 3-card monty on the skybridge between Caesers and Bellagio. Don't be too hard on the kid...he's only 22 and hasn't figured out that most of society is participating in one big, gigantic angle shoot!
So we both play that. We both get chips early. We start Twittering and Facebooking about our hopes to 'Take It Down' together. It almost happens. We get moved to the same table when we get down to 24 from the original 188. He gets caught jamming Q10 into AK...and leaves 4 from the money. Bummer.
I raise with AA when we make the money...and get a guy to shove all in on me with 99. My aces held...I was up to 600k...and really started thinking I was going to maybe win this Super Psycho Turbo Shove Fest for $4195....and getting some pride, joy and money back in my bankroll.
We had all the chips on my table...the other table was almost all shortstacks...and almost all of them just kept sucking out on each other...we were stuck on 13 forever. And with the blinds at 30k/60k....600k soon became 500k...then 400k....shit...then this guy in the SB...hems, haws...and shoves on my BB....and I look down at 55. Time to take a stand...and try to get back up to around a million, with a chance. I call.
He flips over A7 off. Okay, I knew he was weak...good read...but I hate the two overs. I fade the flop. Okay...cool, cool....fade the turn....yeah baby...come on dealer....one more time....put a 2 out there.....and the river....
SEVEN!!!! Shit....SHIT SHIT SHIT....son of a......NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
MOTHERFU***ER....not again! Christ almighty! And I was out. 13th. For another damn min cash...this one for a mighty $365. Oh boy!
Poker is driving me crazy. It really is. I have a female alter ego by the way. Her name....well, her REAL name...is Weronika Brill....now its Starr...but when I met her 3 years ago, it was Veronica Brill. She has since moved from Canada to San Antonio, where she now lives with her fighter pilot (F-15s) husband Mark and drives herself insane playing poker. I've taken to calling her Wonky. Why? I don't know...just came to me. In the past two days...we are having almost the same exact experience everywhere we go to play. Only, I have yet to see her...we simply communicate by Facebook. And her rants are almost identical to mine. In a sick way...she is keeping me optimistic, and entertained at the same time. Some of her comments are so funny...I almost think its really Kai Landry on the other end of them.
There is plenty more to rant about...oh...oh...so much to rant about. But talking about poker? It's just effing boring. I gotta go now...its 2:15...time to go play at the Rio....can't wait to see the turnout. Wonder if it's 129 degrees outside? Sure it must be. The right side of my nostril is just about to split in half I think...soon to fall off into the desert sand...leaving me looking very unusual. This might need to be an adderal day. Maybe xanax. I bought an $8 bag of beef jerky yesterday. I'm a fool. But it was delicious. Go Mariners. I love you Squirrel. I miss you Mollie and Jasper. I am on Day 34 without a Whopper Jr....and hating it. Housekeeping has ignored me now for 3 days in a row. I'm on my last towel...as well as my last pair of clean boxer shorts.
Bye Bye now.