Kicked in the Gut! April's Fool's Ya C***Bags!!!

It's 10:45am. I just woke up. I laid down at 10:30pm. I came back to my room with the intent of blogging, then putting my much anticipated Master's Pool together, and sending out the invite. But the disgust of yesterday's tournament disaster left me mentally drained, depressed and frustrated with life in general. So that when I laid down...I just (and I thank God for this) kind of passed out and never woke up. Until now.

Yesterday was just kind of one of those classic days that started with great hope...only to end in extreme disappointment. Needed Kentucky to cover 8 1/2 and score more than 137 pts total. Looked good...then didn't. They won by 8. Yeah. 8. And the over/under looked good to get clipped, until Louisville missed 9 shots in a row. That missed by 7 points. This happened while I was on dinner break. A dinner break that saw me sitting on 68k chips, when the average was 28k.

Flash back to event 1. Early on...in Level 2 in fact...I lost with set over set (me 22, him JJ...on a 2-3-J flop) to drop me to 1100 chips. Through a lot of patience, discipline and some luck...I grinded that 1100 all the way back, and eventually made the money. But I would see things break wrong...folding a couple of hands (99 and JJ) that I later wished I could have a 'do over' with...then getting it in with a hand (66) that I kind of wished I would have folded when I had the chance...instead of losing to the guy with KK...who would eventually make it down to at least 4. That final table...when it was down to 6...was (I'm not lying) six of the worse players I have ever seen make a final table. It always amazes me how those things happen. I think it's God's cruel little joke on those of us who actually know this game...who are blessed with the ability to actually play it like professionals. He just likes to watch us suffer...before granting us a much deserved win. Yeah...destroy us with beats at the hands of these clowns...then make us stand around and watch them win OUR money. Pretty funny God...hilarious actually. We'll talk about it...you and me, in about 30 or 40 years when I get upstairs.

Oh I suppose their are those who will argue that having the idiots of poker make the final table is good for the game...that it keeps those morons with zero talent coming back because they have been instilled with the false sense of greatness, thinking that the one day when all the planets and stars became aligned in perfect interstellar synchronicity to allow the entire group of them to make the final table was some kind of normality. No donkey, no it wasn't. It was nothing more than a cruel joke, played by God on us 'normies.' You and your fellow mutants will likely never taste that sensation again, of sitting there with mountains of chips that were more confusing to you than impressive.

I bowed out of that tourney 32nd. Good for an amazing $595. My roomie, Kai Landry...would get OMRG'd by El Diablo.

I like to source my fun little pictures using GOOGLE...so when I searched for photos on EL DIABLO...this was the first two pictures that popped up! Got a favorite? I bet you do! You damn perverts!

What she has to do with Satan, and/or El Diablo....I have no idea...but if that is what is waiting for me in hell, uhhhh....okay!

 In what would amount to a remarkably ironic demise....he made a play against a table full of clowns that you would never see in a 'real' tourney against 'real' players...similar to the way I went down yesterday. He had been losing one hand after another...watching his 120k+ dwindle. So when he picked up QQ...behind a raiser and a caller...he decided to do exactly what I did yesterday...in the small blind, with the same exact hand...against the guy (we shall call him Mr. ShitFuck) who was raising 7 out of 10 hands.

We both raised half our stack. In my case...it was 15k...as my 68k had, through horrendous orbits of run-bad, which basically consisted of lots of good hands, with raises....calls, terrible flops, and folds....had now dwindled down to 31k. I needed to win a hand...and any kind of  decent pot. And right now...as he raised (again) to 3000, and got two calls, which was normal, since he was raising nearly every hand...and now no one was giving his raises even a normal amount of respect or consideration, I raised half my stack in hopes of taking down the 12k pot, and restoring order to my stack (and mindset)...with only 45 minutes left to play in the night, and a better than average chance of cashing again, picking up some more National Freeroll points, and being in position to get after the $35k for first place...which right now in my life, with the baby arriving in 30 days or so...could not be more vital to my existence.

Kai raised half his stack. With QQ. In his case...the OMRG flat called. Yes. Flat called. Which, for the record was 75% of HIS stack to call. Where do these assholes come from? What kind of misfires occur in their brain that cause these decisions to be rendered? I wish I knew...but at the same time, the idea of knowing why...is frightening. If you have ever raised half your stack, only to have the person smooth call, then you will know that feeling you get. The feeling of..."you have GOT to be kidding me, what the fuck? Did he seriously just SMOOTH call?" And if you are sitting there with QQ...you have that horrendous feeling of praying that an ace or a king don't flop. 

My guy didn't smooth call. No, he did something which was just as equally curious. And annoying. And stupid. He asked how many chips I had. I told him 31k to start the hand. So he moves all in. The other two fold. Now...his reaction after I snap shoved all in would leave me to think that he might just have been stupid enough to think I was going to fold (after raising half my stack). When the first thing he said was "Wow, well I must really be behind." Really? You think? Asshole!!? He turns over AQ. The dealer is 'Mikey'...who I was nice enough to give all my money to playing mixed games with the dealers on our night of arrival, and who looks and talks exactly like the actor Paul Giamatti....which wouldn't stop freaking me out.

 Yeah...so this is the aforementioned Mikey....or 'Shampoo' as they call him. Guess they get this from his last name...which is, conveniently Champoux. See the resemblance to the well known actor? I do. And he talks exactly like him. Well...this photo here...was taken a couple days later, in the Omaha tourney....a tourney where he would sit down and deal me three orbits of HELL! Started with flopping me top set of Kings, only to lose. I hit a flush. Lost. I hit a set again. Lost. Made a straight, lost to a rivered boat. It was another 'Giamatti Calamity.' Not sure why, after he heard about...then read this blog, why he wanted to be immortalized here in my blog with a photo and shout out...but hey, everyone is bizarre in their own little special way, aren't they?

 So it's hang on, clench the butt cheeks, and pray for this asshole to miss his ace. To get my stack back to around 80k when the average was only 42k. To play out the last 45 minutes of the night, bag up a good stack, come back only about 10 spots from the money...and go out with the boys, on a night out in exciting Omaha, Nebraska...and not have to be back until 2pm today for the restart. The flop was ideal...and it seems like most of the time, if you can fade the flop, you end up winning. 8-8-4 on the flop. Cool. Cool. And no flush draws. Turn was a nine. Perfect. One more card to fade. And at the same time I will cripple this idiot..named Jeff. Or Jayyy-effff as some of the locals who knew him were calling him. And oh, he knew me. We had already established that...as he was prying into my personal life, wanting to know what I was doing/watching on my iPad. Then acknowledged having played with me in Chicago and Vegas. Knowing me as a circuit pro/regular. Yes, he knew me. Knew my skill level. Yet, after raising half of my stack, still left open the possibility that I was going to fold to his ridiculous all in.

Jayyyy-effff obviously skull fucked a mule that morning, or sacrificed one of the local children of the corn in a vinegar and baking soda-based volcano, because Giamatti delivered that son of a vampire an ace of hearts on the river. Picture a crawfish. Picture yourself holding the head...pinching the tail...and ripping it all out of his lifeless soul. Along with the tail you occasionally get a high percentage of the innards...which makes eating crawfish kind of disgusting, unless your a swamp ghoul...and aren't capable of finding anything disgusting, not even getting your sister pregnant while your father and brothers cheerlead. Now picture me, being picked up by my feet, turned upside down...and having my insides pulled out of me when whatever monster it was that just picked me up by my feet did so with the intent to eat me.

That is the feeling I had. I would have stood up and left right away, but I felt like my spine left my body. I felt like lifeless mush in that chair. I said nothing. Just cringed. And of course I had to be serenaded by the stupid ass fuckhead whining about how he had folded A9 preflop and would have been the eventual winner. 

Yeah, I got two-outed. Again. Oh...gee, so back when there was a raise (the asshole with AQ incidentally) a while back and the old guy who looked identical to Mr. Hand from Southpark had re-raised all in, that I SHOULD have called with my A8s? Because I would have used my psychic abilities to know the flop was going to come out AA8? Boy...I suck! Well, dickfaceriverturd would once again overplay a hand, shoving with QQ, running into Mr. Hand's KK...and losing on the A-A-8-K-10 board. 

What happened to Kai? Maybe you forgot I was still sharing his story with you? Well, in his case the flop came 10-high. Kai of course shoved the remainder of his stack. Only to be called by the Mental Midget with El Diablo, which...if you are a regular reader here I don't even need to TELL you what it is, and if you aren't well, I'm just going to make you earn it. Kai was ahead, and about to double up...and sail on to Final Table glory, I can only assume...until being derailed by the inevitable king landing in the kill zone. Good game Kai. Go back to the room and murder something. 

He was nice enough to hop in his car at the hotel, and with ambulance lights flashing and siren wailing, hot foot it over to Horseshoe to pick me up in the valet lane before I went on a killing spree in the casino. I shared my inglorious tale with him...pointing out the obvious coincidence. Then we went through a couple of local neighborhoods, knocking over garbage cans, hitting mail boxes with 2x4's, and even robbed a gas station before finally decided to call it a night. And as I mentioned, I just woke up.

Harold and Kumar are currently on my television, they have hitched a ride with the disgusting driver (aptly named FreakShow) who has pulsating boils on his neck and ears that are crusty and about to fall off. All this before I have had a bite of food yet. Thank god. 

Know what I hate more than anything? Even the guy with the AQ in the 8 seat, who I'm sure will make the final table today? 'Big Bang Theory.' I don't watch the show. But I get beat up by the promos on TBS. Every time I see one of those commercials I find myself wanting to attack my TV.

Monday Night. Kansas vs Kentucky. Two of the greatest programs in college basketball history. Flash back a few years...to Memphis vs. Kansas. Calipari vs. Bill Self. Calipari seeking his first national title. Memphis with Derrick Rose, and other studs. The favored team. Leading by 9 with 4 minutes left. And losing. It also happened to cost me the Sweet 16 pool that I run. Well, those two coaches tee it up again. And again, Kentucky will be favored. Its Calipari's chance at redemption, and his first elusive national title. With a team that will surely be one and done after this year. Because that's the way things at programs like Kentucky, and North Carolina work. They get the best of the best...the McDonald's All Americans...who go to the best programs, the ones who are on TV every week...so they can showcase their talents, then declare for the NBA draft after one season. Then they leave...and a new batch come in. 

Personally, I hate it. And I don't care how good a coach might be...only getting half of your team, regardless of talent, has to be TOUGH to assemble into a title team. I will be rooting for Kentucky, because of how Kansas fucked me 4 years ago. And because Kai got a speeding ticket driving through Kansas on our way here. Go Cats.

[update! Kentucky Wins!  67-59...and dominated the entire game! Ship another championship to the SEC! ]

Okay...so I went to wrap this bastard up...and suddenly my internet stopped working. Tried to reboot. Then tried my Verizon card. Then brought my computer to Horseshoe, to try there. Nothing. Called Dell. Nothing. Running bad in poker. Couldn't connect to internet. Master's Pool...being threatened. Title Squares....needing to be promoted....can't. Was about to lose my mind. Somehow...I got smart. I restored my stupid ass computer to 5 days ago...and then BOOM! I was able to get online again. Damn computers. So now ...its 4am. I'm (not going to lie) shit faced....and have to get this Master's Pool finished...and the invite sent out. Good night. Ugh!

Monk-Zilla