gdiiwtfdmph

Hey there, old friend! Smell that smell? Yep, I know ya do. It’s that sweet familiar smell of winter in the fucking Midwest. Monday-70 degrees, wind 5-10 mph. Tuesday—30 degrees, wind 40-55 gdiiwtfdmph (that’s goddamn it, I want to fucking die Miles per Hour). Every year it’s the same damn thing, old man winter wakes up and realizes he’s way behind schedule and so proceeds to shit on the entire region. Don’t think I’m just sitting here complaining, though. I’m actually sitting here complaining while actively working to get the hell out of this land that time forgot.

And since I’m on a complaining run, I might as well see it to the end. I’ve been pondering the last few weeks just why people feel it necessary to signal when going from on-ramp to highway. The on-ramp ends, it’s going to force you onto the highway proper, you don’t need to let everyone know because, surprise!, they already do. Why don’t any of them feel like a signal is necessary when decide to coast to a nearly complete stop before turning in some completely unspecified direction?

Oh hell, this whining is already tedious so I’ll shut up. Just know that every day I wish upon a star to be around folks that have an IQ higher than the speed limit.

Waitaminute…**puts hand on head and concentrates real hard**

I think I’m getting a vision of some sort….

Yes! There it is!

It appears that my wish will be granted on Dec. 9^th

Shit. That’s still too far away.

And if your wondering, the answer is “yes”, I plan on going on in this manner until Mrs. Head and I arrive to the sounds of –EV bells and whistles.

For those who might care, I’ve played some poker but not much. The little I have played has gone well, so it’s at least nice to know that the little skill that exists is not completely gone. My energies and copious amounts of time are being sucked down by NaNoWriMo, but I will get into a full-time poker swing the week prior to the WBPT event, as this seems to be the optimal amount of time to have a peak poker pump going then we land.

Oh yes, one last thing. For the Storming of the Castle messaging blitz I have Performify on my list, but that’s it so far as it seems everyone has been covered. If you got missed, just send me an email and I will make sure you get a shout.

Tired…must medicate….talk to you all laaateeeeeer!

Hello Saturday!

All you can do is get your money in with the best of it, but even that does no good if the doom switch is turned on. I kid, but now I have to spend the next couple of hours easing off of the pre-tilt I can feel rising inside me. Worst Feeling in the World, especially when you know intellectually that there is no reason to feel like that. With a finish in 62^nd in Pauly’s tourney, rest assured I’m going to have to shove 14 horseshoes in my ass before the final one in order to have any chance at the iPod. No pain, No gain.

NaNoWriMo Update: It has been taking ALL of my spare time, hence the very sporadic posting. I’ll be taking the day off from writing, but will have crossed the 25,000 word mark by the close of the weekend. It’s turning into everything I never thought it would be, and by that I mean that I seem to be writing an Oprah book (the tone is turning out to be very touchy-feely). So, manly men coming across this work, prepare to be severely underwhelmed. Females and other assorted estrogen-laden organisms, stock up on the tissue. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how the last half goes; it is what it is.

It also looks like I’ll be stuck in this god-awful city for a bit longer, since I didn’t get the job I wanted. The thing that I can’t seem to let go about it is: Did I fuck up, or did I simply lose out to someone better qualified? I guess I’ll have to file that one away with the other unanswerable questions such as, “How come I didn’t win the lottery this week?” and “How come there’s corn in there? I haven’t had corn in weeks!”

Oh yeah, and “Why isn’t Vegas here yet?”

Pre-Vegas Rushin'

The rush to bankroll up for Vegas is definitely on. Congrats to all of the bloggers who recently made some nice tourney scores. Seriously, it’s getting to be too many to count. Joe just hit for a nice win. Daddy is taking down anything even alluding to a farm animal, reaming it good. CJ, -EV, and SirWafflesWinsTourneys. The list is nearly too many to count or link. The world must be nearing its end, though, because I can now add my name to the list of Those Who are Scoring (this also happens to be the name of the list I desperately tried to get on in Junior High, but I digress).

First NL final table ever in the WWdN Invitational two weeks ago. Final table at Saturdays with Pauly. Final table at the Bill Rini Desert Shootout.

While playing like a weak-tight sissyboy (shut up, If you had Hank and Joe on your left you would too) I decided to jump into the NL $10+1 after the first break in the Shootout. To make a long story short, after busting in 9^th in the Shootout, I scored a 4^th for a nice $300. Man, anything seems easy after playing the tough blogger fields.

Just need to work on closing now.

Review: The Best Hand I Ever Played

The Best Hand I Ever Played was an entertaining, albeit short, read. It is a collection of 52 hands played by various professionals and big tournament winners. Each person recounts a brief tale of one of the best hands they ever played, hence the title of the book. Following the recount of the hand, Steve Rosenbloom throws in a section called “The Rake” where he dissects the strategic implications.

Upon receiving the book I was understandably excited and jumped in right away. After a couple of hours went by I realized that I had already ripped through over half of it and that my enjoyment was nearing an abrupt end. In the middle of “Oooh! New poker book!” euphoria I had failed to consider its length and consequently failed to pace myself.

Don’t expect any in-depth strategy lessons with this book, you won’t get them. This is primarily a poker book that tells a collection of brief stories; very brief stories. All of these things combined led me to a sense of mild overall disappointment with this book once I was finished. Perhaps I expected too much, that is always a possibility. I loved reading about the players and their favorite hands, but I was left wanting something more in-depth. The post-recount strategy sections were even briefer and felt like an afterthought; something just put there to fill space. Scattered throughout the book were handy-dandy little graphics explaining poker terms like “The Turn”. These definitely could have been left out. With ESPN increasing the poker coverage year by year I find it difficult to imagine that someone reading this book would find this most basic information enlightening in any way. Again, maybe I expected too much.

So, there’s how it all shakes out in my world. It seems that this book was devoted to pleasing everyone, which is understandable, but I believe that this is its downfall. I wouldn’t buy this book. I would, however, buy it for a friend or acquaintance as some sort of small gift, stocking stuffer, etc, and I would enjoy receiving it as a gift. The good thing is that it costs less than many of you spend on blinds in an orbit. It definitely couldn’t hurt to pick up a copy to read while your folding that string of Q3 offsuit’s you’re being dealt, just don’t make the same mistake I did and expect too much.

Sign up Reminder!

Only three and a half hours till bloggers clash in…

Saturdays with Dr. Pauly on Poker Stars
Saturday 11.5.05 @ 1pm EST
$10 + 1 NL
Password is hiltons
Tournament #14338880 (check under Private Tournament Tab)

Be there!

I’m just under the 20% completed (9,782 words) mark for NaNoWriMo. After breaking over the initial “howthefuckamieversupposedtowriteanovel” barrier the floodgates have opened. Here’s to hoping they stay open for the duration. Be sure to stop by and give some encouragement to the others who are willingly embarking on this masochistic quest.

I find myself fearing blind corners, thinking that my old battle axe of a college writing teacher is waiting there with her everlasting red pencil to cut me into ribbons.

Also, for those attending the festivities in Vegas, a reminder that it would greatly behoove you to attend the Full Tilt (Bonus Code: HHEAD) Shootout Tourney courtesy of Grand Organizational Wizard and All Around Kick-Ass Individual, Bill Rini.

See you all in a couple of hours! I now have to return to inflicting carpal tunnel on myself (not the good kind).

Going for it

There is no failure except in no longer trying. ~Elbert Hubbard

I decided on Halloween Day to give it a try after watching the event roll past me last year. I wasn't even planning on letting anyone know about it, but that would defeat at least part of the purpose. Day 2 is in the books, 28 more to go.

I really need to go back to Pauly's archives for his commentary on Tiffany Williamson. Watching her play last night made be feel damn near professional in my skills. To be fair, I think a lot of my thoughts on her play is due to editing, as I just can't imagine someone getting that consistently lucky to make it that deep into such a large field. There had to be some good play that got her there, we just didn't see any of it last night.

Busy now, more later. Shhhh, don't tell work :)

Deep Stack

Don’t be like me.

As in, I played in the $10+1 deep stack tourney on Stars yesterday and went out because of the biggest idiot move EVER on my part. It was, in fact, so dumb I can’t even bring myself to recount it in any detail lest I become so embarrassed that I run and lock myself in a dark closet for the rest of the week as penance.

And with that, I humbly prostrate myself before the NL experts in the ‘sphere and request advice and/or strategy for deep stack tourney.

DoubleAs , and I know others, have posted a lot of material on deep stack cash games but I’m curious how this might differ from the deep stack tourney strategy. I may be (again) showing my ignorance here, but it seems to me there would definitely be some extra considerations to take into account.

Regardless, it was certainly interesting to play with the deep stack format, even though it was kind of uncomfortable given the fact that I’ve never played in a deep stack environment before. I’m also curious to hear what everyone thinks of this format in general. I can see how the more skilled players would favor this, but the nature of online play being what it is, I can see that the time necessary to play one of these would certainly be a mitigating factor.

Have a great week, everyone. 39 days and counting until VEGAS!

Uggh, airports.

Umm….yeah…so I just finished the first interview of my life that I would actually describe as “grueling”. Holy hell, I think I accidentally walked my way into a full on serious ADULT-type job.

Throughout my work history I have always been able to tell where I stand with the interviewer in question. Their eyes and facial expression are normally transparent enough for me to gauge whether or not they like me and the drivel that I’m spewing their way. Not so this time. For the most part I may as well have been interviewing with a bunch of world renowned poker pro’s. These people gave away not a hint of what was going through their heads, so now I get to stew for a while wondering what kind of phone call or email I’ll be getting (if I get one at all :))

Time to get on the plane, be back soon.

(Funny thing, when I was younger I used to think that doing a bunch of “business traveling” would be really cool. Cell phone, laptop, rental cars and flights. Oops, wrong again, not cool at all. Mostly annoying and tiring, heh.

Edit: The job I interviewed for is not in the Adult industry, even though what I wrote might sound like it :)

Positive, for once.

Thanks for stopping by and visiting The Human Head, made with real bits of poker, so you know I’m good.

60% of the time, I win every time.

(Okay, I confess. I’ve had Anchorman on in the background at least 3 days this week while working on various things)

Good Stuff.

Wow, great times right now at PokerStars. I don’t think there is a need to enumerate much more than that, other than to say that last night things were almost PartyPoker-ish.

Again, Good Stuff.

Throughout all of my pontifications this year, both on and off-line, I have maintained that 2005 has just been kind of a generally shitty year for all (OK, backtrack…many) involved. Nothing too drastically shitty (ignoring New Orleans, current and ongoing political douchebaggery, and other various catastrophic events), just one of those years that nothing seems to go quite how it ought to.

As we near the end, I think that 2005 is getting tired and is ready for a nap. Over the last couple of weeks it dawned on me just how close we are to WPBT III: The Search for Sobriety (feel free to insert your own words or tagline here---My Dignity, Clean Shorts, Breath Mints, SoCo, Competent Wait Staff…you get the idea) . In other areas things have been steadily looking up, as well. Opportunities are poking their little heads out from the most unexpected places. I’m being flown elsewhere this weekend in pursuit of an opportunity with some serious potential that is unfortunately not poker-related, possibly resulting in our moving out of this (insert your own non-complimentary adjective here) city.

My holding is better-than-marginal, but I haven’t moved my stack in the middle….yet. I’m trying to finalize my read and keep in mind that 2005 could still very well deal me a nasty river card. This isn’t too likely, but then again a 2-outer never is.

Good Stuff.

Increments

What happened within the dead space of two months?

Too much and not enough.

I had to stop blogging for a while because it had simply ceased to be fun. Some intense self-loathing, for sure, for various reasons. I hardly read any blogs. I think I played poker twice the entire time.

We’ve all heard from various people in our lives all of the different quips that basically mean the same thing…”Do it right or don’t do it at all.” I didn’t feel like I was doing it right so I had to step back from everything even though I knew intellectually that there is no “right”.

Finally, at the ripe old age of 29, I’ve pretty much finished my Bachelors Degree (still have about 9 hours of lower-division straggler classes to finish, but those are a walk). I finished up a couple of certifications I should have completed long ago. Mrs. Head finished her MBA (emphasis on Global Management, if anyone is looking to hire. She’s like…umm,smart…and stuff). I am no longer dragging around the oppressive corporate black cloud (it’s not gone, just lightened up to a nicer shade of grey). This weekend was the time to get back to blogging and all of the other things that I so recently loved.

But what if I write something down and still hate it as I did before? It was a real fear. It’s one thing to leave for a while because you hate what’s coming out of you, but entirely another to come back and realize that you’ll be quitting yet another endeavor that you once enjoyed but now inexplicably can’t seem to do anymore.

I love it now as I once did. The drudge is gone, and I’ve gained a new perspective similar to those that come to light at the poker tables every once in a while. It’s not something that can be readily put into words, but you know that you’ve shifted to a new position and can see things that previously eluded you. You’ve just grown up another increment.

I live for the increments, like a junkie that lives for that next push. Most of the time, the junkie knows where to go for the next hit; increments aren’t so easy. When they make themselves known at the tables or in your life, be sure to treasure them because it might be a while before you get another.

Kumbaya.

Now that you’re all warm and fuzzy you may return to your regular poker schedule :)

I forgot to wear a cup

2 consecutive hands, I called obvious all-in bluffs.

2 consecutive hands, the bluffers hit their 3-outers.

I think I'm going to be sick. No cool prizes for me today.

Christ, my second post off hiatus and I'm already whining. At least I didn't post a hand history! It was really cool of PokerStars to do this freeroll, hopefully it'll happen again soon because I'm itching to exact some revenge.

Back to the tables now, gotta cheer the WPBT on!

Here I Am!

I’m back, bitches.

Let me answer the first question that I’m sure is on the mind of every man, woman, and child….

You were gone for a bit over 2 months. What were you doing all of that time? More importantly, what were you doing that made you such an absolutely fabulous poker player?

Well, it’s a sizeable and arduous answer, try I will try to give you a brief summation.. But first, ask yourself this: “What must happen to all heroes if they are to break out into the big time?”

Training Montage.

Think of all the great ones. The Karate Kid. Rocky. Kickboxer.

That’s right, I did all of them, in a combined super-hybrid ultra-get-you-totally- pumped montage.

If you work out and believe in yourself, you too can achieve this level of mastery. By harnessing the underdog spirit and invoking super-suckout power mojo, you too can duck, weave, and flying spin roundhouse your way to the final table.

Try my system. It’s only 20 easy payments, of $39.99 O.A.C. After setting up automatic payments, I will give you the key to my custom FrontPage website so you too can harness your power montage underdog potential.

Thanks for all the cheers tonight, everyone. Can’t wait to do it next week.

I’m back, bitches.

Coolest Event Ever

I have registered to play in the
Online Poker Blogger Championship!

This event is powered by PokerStars.

Registration code: 9488300

Vacation

I’m sure that plenty of you already noticed that I seem to be on extended break. The big question is how long will it last? I dunno. It may only be a couple of more weeks, but it could very well last until the WPBT gathering in December (it can’t come soon enough) it’s just hard to tell when it comes to something as intangible as creative juices.

I’ve also spent about the same amount of time not playing poker as I have not posting. Attempts at writing produce nothing but crap that I immediately loathe and delete.

So, until I get a bit less busy and get the other stuff worked out, feel free to put me in the languishing column as I have been a bad blogger and deserve it.

Be back as soon as I am able.

Turbo Trial Run

I’m still here! Don’t try to deny it, I know both readers were worried.

Today will be my last day doing inventory BS at work, for a little while anyway. After nearly two weeks of becoming intimately re-acquainted with all of the PC’s, Monitors, routers, switches, etc., etc. in my workplace and their attendant serial numbers, I’m very close to being fully extricated from the asset quagmire.

Remember the vomiting reaction to seeing violence in A Clockwork Orange? That’s me, just replace the violence with color-coded spreadsheets and watch me turn into a blubbering mess. Yeesh.

Thanks to an attack of insomnia last night I actually played a bit of poker. Things started out with the usual of nasty suckouts, so I decided to switch over per Mourn’s advice and mess around with a Turbo SnG for a change of pace. The one time I tried these before made me want to shoot myself, but this time I went in with a more realistic gambling perspective. This stuff is old hat for most/all of you, but damn, people playing like large-type small-brained mammals out of the gate. Call large pre-flop bets and push if you get any piece of it, crazy stuff. I lost about half of my stack with a nasty beat, got over-anxious and busted in 7^th. Not good.

I immediately jumped into another one, and of course immediately lost half of my stack when I had to lay down my top two pair to a river that put a 4^th spade on the board (my KJ had no spades, of course). This time, I actually adjusted. I didn’t get overanxious and ended up winning by capitalizing on the passive and scared play of my opponents when the blinds got big and we got close to the money. It’s relieving to be able to say that my game is not completely for shit.

I’ve got a tone of notes about things I need/want to write about, but they’ll have to wait. I’m kind of having the same difficulties as Maudie, due to my problem of work and other miscellaneous projects sucking down my life-force like 2-year old set loose in a vat of Koolaid. However, all of this has finally pushed me into doing something I’ve been meaning and needing to do for some time now….get back into the gym. I’m heading out Saturday to join and I think it will do a lot for my state of mind; I miss those endorphins.

I don’t look forward to the initial two weeks back, though, where I get to play the part of Fatty McGee getting used to the routine again.

I like the staaaaaaiiiiiiirrrrrrrsssss, eeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Tiny Whine

WCOOP 50 FPP qualifier last night, 39^th place out of 600, and I’m having mixed feelings about it. It’s the deepest I’ve made it into a tournament in some time and considering how sporadically I’ve been sidling up to the virtual tables as of late, I know that I shouldn’t be too unhappy because it’s not like my game is super sharp at the moment. But goddamn, when that variance whore is constantly striking you down even as a 4 to 1 favorite, it’s difficult not to turn into a fucking grumpy bastard about it. Let’s not even get into the coin flips.

Poker = That crazy unpredictable mood-swingy bitch that I can’t help but go back to time and time again. One of these days when I’m stronger, I’m going to leave her for good.

Oh, who am I kidding, she’s got a hammerlock on my ass. [/whine]

That’s it for today. Now I must return to asset inventory reconciliation, fun stuff. (Geez, just saying those 3 words makes me die a little inside)

I haven't ranted in a while. Guess what I'm doing today?

A new show with Anthony Bourdain called No Reservations aired last night on the Travel Channel, and true to his style it kicked much ass. If you missed it, make an effort to catch it when it inevitably re-airs so you can see him make fun of Rocco DiSpirito, it's priceless. The point of the episode was to demonstrate that France isn’t as bad as you would hear a lot of folks here in America tell it. Basically, you get to watch him donk his way through Paris for an hour talking to and about the people and places while he eats a lot of fantastic food and gets drunk. Last night he was drinking absinthe (which, after being on my “to-do” list for many years, still remains undone) and I was jealous.

He traveled to one of the meat markets (literal, no euphemisms today folks) to look at all of the wonderful wares for sale. While there, he ate breakfast with all of the workers. One might ask, “What do french meat market workers have for breakfast?” Everyone was eating rare roast beef on awesome looking baguettes with glasses of red wine.

Mouth watering. Getting jealous-er.

More great bread. Great coffee. More wonderful meats, cooked rare, of course..

All of the above were resplendent with various butters and creams; beautiful stuff.

“Why can’t you ever get good coffee like that here?’ asked Mrs. Head.

“Because we’ve turned into a society of loud-mouthed pansies” I pontificated loud-mouthedly in a pansified manner.

I’m not saying that you can’t get good coffee here in America. But you usually have to seek it out and pay through the nose for it. It’s the exception and not the rule. Order it at any random eating establishment you may go to, and more than likely it will be served in the form of useless light brown water. Not a huge deal though, right? Coffee is not something we’ve ever necessarily been nationally known for, so why am I talking about it? Because following this train of thoughr leads me to a more depressing destination.

As surely as I sit here ranting, everything surrounding us is becoming more and more vanilla-fied, and it’s fucking depressing. While in Phoenix this last week, I had no choice but to go with the group (no rental car, beggars can’t be choosy and all that) to T.G.I.Fridays for lunch. Of course, despising 98% of all chain restaurants, I stepped inside with a heavy heart and prepared for all manner of “flair” After wading through the shiny happy cheeriness of the wait staff (who the fuck is that bubbly and why are they allowed to speak?) I finally settled on a nice and simple Jack Daniels Burger, which would have made me moderately happy except for the options given for how I would like that burger cooked.

Medium, Medium-well, or Well-done.

I (very wrongly) assumed the fact that the word “rare” could not be found anywhere on the menu was just a strange naming convention peculiar to this chain. Medium must mean medium-rare in Friday-speak. Nope. They refused to cook my meat in medium-rare fashion even when I demanded it and stated that I would sign whatever waiver they liked.

What. The. FUCK.

In case anyone is wondering, and just for the record, I did a comparison amongst all of the meats at the table cooked in all three manners and they were all the same; cooked to death. Once again, just like the coffee, if I want a piece of rare meat I have to search it out and more often than not pay through the nose for it.

Do you like hot Italian sausage? Head down to the grocery store and try and find a package. Like me, chances are high that you will have an increasingly difficult time locating some. Sure, I could head to the butcher and procure some and it would be of much higher quality, but what if I just want to pick up something reasonable and decent while I’m at the store? I guess I’m just S.O.L these days, but don’t you worry about that, they stock plenty of mild sausages for me to feast on. (GAG)

Oh, and the cherry on top of it all? I can’t smoke ANYWHERE.

I want to open a new establishment called Hot and Bloody (or something). Here’s how it will go:

• The entire restaurant will be smoking. There will be a special glass-walled room with two or three tables for the non-smokers so they don’t contract any of the evil cancer wafting around the place. “I’ve been waiting for over an hour!” the pissed-off self-righteous douchebag will yell. My hostess will reply in her best patronizing corporate phone voice, “I’m sorry, sir. The non-smoking section is still full so you will just have to wait your turn. We have smoking available if you’d like.” (smarmy smile)

• The hot wing options will be Fucking Hot, Hiroshima, Hell’s Basement, and You Need an Ass Transplant. Go ahead and order mild, you’ll still be served the Fucking Hot option at a minimum.

• Ordering a steak well-done will not be an option. Medium-well might be an option (TBD), but utilizing it automatically gives the wait-staff the option to freely sneer at you. Realistically though, anything over the level of Medium and you will more than likely be told to leave until such time as all of that “society friendly” crap is out of your system.

• All vegans or forms thereof will be hung. (This may require a permit that allows my restaurant to be its own country, and therefore make its own laws. I’m looking into it.)

• White Zinfandel will be banned from the premises. Once the above permit comes through, requesting it will likely be a hanging offense alongside the vegans.

• Dessert? We have absinthe and hashish. Which one would you like? Both? Very good, sir.
  

Alrighty then, who’s with me?

No more chances

Boy, it’s always good to get back home after being away for a week. Phoenix may have been a full 10-15 degrees hotter than Wichita, but considering the fact that the humidity in Wichita is 10x that of Phoenix, it wins the “Worst Weather” award. But hey, I’ve always been a fan of the “dry heat” (it would seem that I’m a fan of quotes, as well).

Thursday I finally got a chance to go play some live poker. Since Wild Horse Pass happened to be the closest to our hotel, that’s where we ended up. Having no rental car, beggars can’t be choosy. Plus, having had a lackluster experience there the last time I was in Phoenix, I was viewing this as the second chance trip.

Wild Horse took that second chance and fucked it all up.

For now, let’s ignore the BIF (that’s Butt in Front) parade. Let’s ignore the pervasive putrid stench of desperation that saturates the place. Let’s ignore the guy with the grey brick dinosaur of a Motorola flip phone hanging off of his belt and my wonderment that someone still actually has one of those. Let’s focus only on the poker room.

Pure Shite.

I think it was dirtier and running worse than the last time I was there. When we arrived I counted the list for 3/6, it numbered 16. Number of empty tables? 5. Number of dealers milling around playing grab-ass? I counted 6. After waiting for 20 minutes I asked why they didn’t start a new 3/6 table and I was told they were considering it. Fucking great.

45 minutes later I finally got a seat. They never did start that game.

Highlight: I won my first hand with QJs on the button when I completed my OESD on the turn to take down a nice pot. Even though the games are by and large pretty rocky here, I seem to have lucked out and got on a table with a few donators. Hooray!

Interim: I am forced to dump a several hands like AKs, KQs, etc when the flops COMPETELY miss me. Having taken down a large pot on my first hand seems to have the effect of making people want to take shots at me, which would be great if my nice starting hands would become something.

Lowlight and Session Conclusion: The donators are low on chips and we’re 8-handed. I’m up a little over 10 BB’s after about 1.5 hours. Kill pot and I get KK, woohoo! Hit a set on the rainbow flop, get raised and reraised when a second club comes on the turn (no straight possibilities). Beaten by 83c when the backdoor flush comes on the river. Crub Frush, indeed. Table breaks ½ hour after the vicious beat and I’m stuck 6.5 BB.

The only thing left after our table broke was a bunch of crammed full 2/4 tables with a waiting list that stretched all the way to Prescott and a short-handed 8/16 game. Did they start any new games? Nope. Did I go home highly annoyed? Yep.

No more chances for you, Wild Horse.

Thanks for all the advice in the comments on the last post, and for what it’s worth I am currently reading both of Dan Harrington’s books right now. Damn, that volume II could almost be considered a tome. Put I and II together and you definitely have one. However, I think the general malaise of the last post has more to do with me being slightly depressed than a problem that is specifically poker related. Like I said, I’m trying to dig deeper into this, so don’t be surprised if you see some seriously non-poker business going on here in the near future. I think I will give another online room a go though….I’m thinking of hitting up Absolute or Poker Room. Any thoughts on which of those are better and why? I used to play Poker Room when I first began playing online, but I know a lot has changed since then, and I have never played at Absolute.

And now we return to our previously scheduled schoolwork, already in progress….

Something is off

The $2-6 Spread Limit game at the Excalibur really fucked me up, and I’m sitting here hoping that it’s temporary.

I hate online poker right now.

In fact I’ve spent the last week pondering the possible who’s, what’s, and why’s of it all and I still don’t really have a satisfactory answer so I’m going to write about it in the hopes that it begins working itself out.

I actually have no idea whether or not it was the wonderfully easy pickings at the Excalibur that is solely responsible, but I doubt it. I didn’t play very much during the Vegas get together, but that being said it was still more time than all of my previous live sessions combined. It was so much fun. Combined with the utter softness of the games, playing online definitely and immediately became less than appealing. But why, though? It’s not like the online games are that much tougher (at my level), and I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, but perhaps my subconscious disagrees. I think sometimes that perhaps my subconscious is just some 400 lb. fleshly behemoth too heavy to get off of the couch and drowning in Cheetoh’s, eschewing the frustrating and sometime soul squeezing challenge of consistently crushing online games for the easy and most of the time mindless money that sits at a live table for the taking. He pines for the low limit live games the same way he pines for everything that he won’t get off his fat ass to go after.

That’s theory numero uno.

Usually, some donking around at the $5 SnG’s will get me over this type of a hump when it rears its ugly head. Not so much this time. I’m playing OK and my results are OK, but I still find myself with a serious amount of disproportionate tilt when I catch the inevitable beat or make a retarded play. If someone decides to be a rude jackass it makes me kind of sad. I really can’t believe I just admitted that, and when it happens I can’t believe a faceless internet gnat made me feel like that, but there ya go. The fact that I’m even paying enough attention to it for it to affect me makes me want to kick my own ass for being such a punk bitch. However, taking a step back I realize that these are indicators of a deeper problem that seems to be making an appearance. The question now is, what?

So, there are the beginnings of theory #2.

Did I mention I’m in Phoenix all this week? Nothing like the rock-your-world desert heat to put a person in a contemplative state, eh? Well, that and sitting in a training class all day long.

Edge of the Knife: Day Three, Part III

Day One, Part I
Day One, Part II
Day One, Part III
Day One, Part IV

Day Two, Part I
Day Two, Part II
Day Two, Part III

Day Three, Part I
Day Three, Part II

It was noon and the cocktails were beginning to get to me. I wondered if perhaps I should indulge in a bit of water, but a snippet of memory from the military came back to me….

Suck it up and press on, soldier.

With this exhortation encouraging me, I was off to the bar. Or, perhaps I already had VSOP #7 in hand and was wandering around the slots and bar talking to everyone that I could, it’s hard to say. In my drunken state I made an easily forgettable mental note that I should probably start taking some actual notes, but I couldn’t find my notebook. Betwixt thee and me, I think it was gallivanting in Mrs. Head’s purse and I was too busy jabbering to go find her.

In a hazy state like mine you can see the edge approaching. It’s not near enough to worry about, but you know it’s on the way. Events and conversations get soft around the edges and begin jumbling a bit. While the order may be a bit off in my head, I remember all of the great conversations I had with Iggy, Pauly, Bob, JP Costales, Maudie, and Derek about a wide variety of things. I knew the drinks would eventually cause me to literally fall over, but it was the conversation that figuratively knocked me on my ass. Over a month later I’m still amazed that I actually met so many people that I can talk religion or politics with (who don’t necessarily agree) in a rational manner without anyone flying into a rage and spouting bland propaganda. As I made my way through VSOP #8 and #9 and more conversation I tried to think of a word that would accurately describe it all.

Sublime.

I was reveling in the satisfaction that comes with finding the perfect word when AlCantHang cruised by…..with EVERYONE in tow. Apparently, it was time to go to La Salsa for the tournament afterparty, but I was simply in shock that it was already 5 PM. I certainly felt like it was 5 PM, but the less drunk among us informed me that we were just coming up on 3 PM. Oops. I merged with the crowd and we were off on our short trek.

The short trek from The Aladdin to La Salsa as it was full of great moments. I’ll leave most of what happened on the trek unsaid, but I will say that Pauly and I pornslapped the hell out of many an unsuspecting pedestrian. We even pornslapped the pornslappers and got cussed in Spanish for our efforts. Ingrates.

La Salsa wasn’t ready, and quite frankly neither was I, but I wasn’t about to admit it to anyone. I can’t imagine what the wait staff must have thought about getting waylaid two hours ahead of schedule by a whole crowd of people hopped up on alcohol, tournament poker, and good vibes. AlCantHang, the Pied Piper of poker bloggers, the Patton of many a partying campaign, made some deft moves and we took over the back of the place.

Hijinks ensued. I tried to survive.

It’s very nearly impossible to balance on the edge of a knife, but I managed to do it for nearly three hours. There weren’t many conversations during that time where I uttered more than a few words, the edge had arrived out of nowhere and I was trying not to fall off the other side. To some it may have looked or seemed as though I wasn’t having any fun, but rest assured it was a complete blast (even with that gutbomb of a burrito inside me), and getting to see EvaCantHang maneuver Mrs. Head into some drunken karaoke was my one of my personal highlights. I’m pretty sure she’s the only person on the planet who could have gotten her to do that; Mrs. Head does NOT do karaoke. Never underestimate the power of great folks + yards of margarita.

It was around 6 PM when I finally gave up the balancing act and teetered off the edge. We took a cab with Gracie and Co. back downtown, and I wondered if I had ever been so happy to see a comfortable bed. I slept for a couple of hours and woke feeling much better but still not too hot as we made our way over to the Plaza to see what degenerate activities were taking place. Not wanting to join another mixed game, Mrs Head and I headed up with Pauly, Derek, Halverson, and Spaceman to the suite for some poker.

The suite was sweet. The first thing I wondered upon entering was where the film crew was hiding. It was the type of room equally suited to making porn or snuff films, and was the perfect underbelly setting for a late night SnG. Mrs. Head and I both lost, and there’s no sense in rehashing more than that. It was the perfect thing to do while imbibing late into the night.

Coming back downstairs I still found myself with a jones for some –EV Let it Ride, but the late hour hit me square in the gut. No more balancing. It was time to head back to the room and say goodbye to the edge forever. Well, maybe not forever, but at least until the next time we hit this town.

Besides, Mrs. Head informed me that we had to get up and hit the outlet malls in the morning.

Sunuva….