Friday, December 30, 2005
Wil tells us how he screwed up and using his written word, hurt two of the people he cares about most in the world. And he tells it really well. Like Pauly-style tear your heart out well. Took big brass ones for Wil to come out in public and apologize like that, and he deserves a lot of respect for that. And he could probably use a hug right now, too. Go hook him up.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
So there's this tight-ass principal in East Buttfuck, Missouri, who says that this linebacker kid can't wear a kilt to a formal dance. What a putz. For the record, the kilt is a time-honored piece of garb worn in battle, formal occassions, and whenever we big fuckin' hairy scots mofros decide we want to.
So fuck off, Mr. I'm so Nervous that little Johhny's Little Willy is going to flop around at the dance that I have to ignore all the punch-spiking, ass-grabbing, dope-smoking, line-snorting and crazy goat-fucking that always goes on at high school Dances Principal Man. Let the bugger wear his kilt, and don't you fucking dare look up there to see if he's going regimental. Your monkey ass would be flogged pillory to post if you instituted underwear checks on the chicklets, so don't fuckin' sport the double standard, pusswah. As one of the greatest writers of modern times once said in a blog comment, Mr. Principal "put a fucking stitch in your gash."
I wear a kilt on occassion. Not just to attract attention (and to make sure that the folks I met remembered who I was rather than "that other overweight hairy hillbilly blogger") , and to show off my spectacular calves, but because it's fuckin' comfy. Men wearing pants and chicks wearing skirts has always made about as much sense to me as the nutbuster bar on a boy's bike. WTF!?!?!? The boys like to breathe, that's all there is to it. And for the record, I was not regimental at the WPBT Winter Classic (I didn't want to think about where those chairs had been). Just ask Grubby about sitting in unpleasant substances in casinos.
But even if the kid was wearing the kilt to draw attention to himself, SO FUCKING WHAT? Most of the things we all did in high school were designed to draw attention to ourselves, especially those of us who went through there in the 80s and early 90s. No, really, we never thought that wearing 5 watches and that much clashing neon actually looked good, but you fucking noticed, didn't you? High school and college (and for some of us, the rest of our lives - see pic) are all about exploring who we want to be, who we think we are, and who we don't want to be. So if little Nathan whateverthefuck wants to wear a kilt, fine. He's grabbed his 15 minutes at 17 years old, and we probably don't have to worry about him assassinating the president later in life just to get a little bit of fucking attention from an actress who swings the other fuckin' way anyhow.
So I am obviously in support of this kid's right to wear the kilt to the dance, graduation, the prom, his wedding, work, on the subway (careful of updrafts) and anywhere else he damn well please.
And don't get me started on why there's nothing wrong with man-purses, either. If I get on that rant, Donkeypuncher will start sending me hair gel and facial moisturizer samples and try to convert me to a metrosexual, and I'm way to fat and lazy for all that beauty regimen :).
Wow I swear a lot.
Fuck it. If you're a kid, you shouldn't read this shit anyway. Go find Daddy's new blog. Or hell, go read the porn that's taken over snailtrax.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
So the Dear and Patient threw me out of the house on Christmas Eve so that she could go over to our next door neighbors' house, drag my gift out from their storage shed, and spend most of the day assembling my new poker table.
Now that's love. With her last paycheck from the musical she was running lights for (back in September), my Dear and Patient went to the Mart of Wal and bought me a poker table. I tried linking to a photo, but failed miserably. It's 6 1/2 feet long, oval, with 6 cupholders. Looks pretty nice for pressboard furniture, and has a dining tabletop that can go on it so we don't screw up the felt in our day to day lives. I was amazingly touched not so much by the gift, but that she went to so much trouble for this hobby of mine.
And that's what this really is - a hobby. I don't have any illusions of supporting myself playing poker. Those of you who've played with me and watched me eat know that there's no way my weak LAG-y play can support my grovery bill, but I don't need it to, so that's fine. I've gotten far more out of the writing and friendships than I've contributed to the internet economy in my losses, so that's cool.
I can be philosophical, I'm still in the black for the year, thanks to a decent tourney win on Stars back in March :).
And Amazon came through once again, my wife's Buffy the Vampire Slayer complete series DVD collection and Doris Day DVD collection sets both arrived on Friday, so there's been plenty of couch potato material for the last few days.
I'm slowing down my online play for a while, screwing around a little with low-limit Razz on Full Tilt and baby SNGs on Stars, and I'll play the Wil Wheaton tourneys, too (can't miss my weekly donation of cash to my favorite bloggers), but somebody PLEASE just tell me to autofold if Gracie is sitting on my left!
I'm Jhartness on those two sites, so if you see me, holla out.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Instead I got the opposite call and now the doc wants to go ahead and do the same procedure on the other leg before the atrophication (is that a word?) progresses any further. At this point he feels that he's got about a 90% chance of success on that leg. Soooo, I'm a happy boy.
I really can't even express how much this chick means to me. She's 17 years older than me, and got married when I was a year old. From the time I was born, she pampered me just like I was her own kid, and her traumas trying to carry a kid to term before her daughters were born did nothing to alleviate that. I spent as much time with her and Wayne (her husband, who died my senior year of college) when I was a kid as I did with my parents, and sometimes more. I used to tell all her friends that my name was "John Givens Hartness Alexander," appending her married name onto my name. She really was a second mom to me growing up, and I love her daughters fiercely and protectively. So there was a lot of fear in the room yesterday.
Jessica and Stephanie (my nieces) are both single young women now, and Bonnie is all they have. So I was the one least freaking out, and my level of nutso was starting to peak pretty high at 6PM when the surgery was supposed to have started at 1:30. But it's all okay now, she's gonna be fine, even though we still don't know what caused this condition, if it's hereditary in any way, or if it may recur. And even though she's going to have to do this again on the other leg in fairly short order, now we've gotten the big hurdle behind us and we can move on. IN other words, Christmas is back ON!
Which is the other reason I'm at my office blogging from my desk on Christmas Eve. My Dear and Loving woke me up this morning and threw me out of the house. Apparently my Christmas surprise is being delivered or set up as we speak (virtually speaking) and my being there was a monkey wrench in her long-established plans. So I played the dutiful husband and got the Hell outta dodge. I needed an oil change anyway. And apparently a fuel injector flush and four new tires. Merry Christmas to you guys, too. Thank god it's a company car, cause I'd be shitting biscuits if I'd had to drop $500 of my personal cash on car stuff today.
Oh, in somewhat poker-ish news, I got Phil Gordon's Little Green Book yesterday along with all the other Amazon gifts I bought. I've started it and it's pretty damn dense. Not Harrington dense, but full of quick hits and theories that I feel like I'm going to have to go back and mull over a few times to absorb. It strikes me as almost the perfect back of crapper poker book, because the subchapters are pretty short, but require some reinforcement to absorb, so if it's on the back of the can you can go back to trouble spots again and again.
Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hannukah and whatever else you celebrate! Oh, and Happy Solstice, even though I think I'm late. I'm not cool enough to know what all the holidays are, so just have a happy, and know that you all mean a lot to me, especially all of you who read yesterday and sent words or vibes of encouragement while I was having a big old freak-out fit.
Friday, December 23, 2005
1) After some nervous moments with Amazon.com and UPS, Christmas is officially back on! My packages arrived at the office 30 min. ago, so now I can actually give my wife her Doris Day Collection DVD set and the entire series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer that I ordered for her. I was sweating this whole shipping thing pretty hard, since buying all those things over again locally would have put a crimp in the financials.
2) Well, the good news is...it's not cancer. The bad news is, I'm going down to Rock Hill, SC (less than an hour from here, where I went to college) this afternoon to sit with two of my nieces while my sister has hip surgery. Apparently the ball portion of her femur has died. There is no blood flowing into that portion of the bone, so the doctors are going to drill through her femur in an attempt to reach good marrow and spur blood flow back into the dead portion of the bone. If it works, great! We get to do the same thing with the other leg next year. If it doesn't, then it's hip replacement surgery. Apparently this is a condition typically found in alcoholics (nope), long-term steroid abusers (nope) or people with bone cancer (no, thank Jebus, but we didn't kow that until Tuesday, so it's been a tense week). So we don't know how or why this happened to Bonnie, but hopefully it'll all get fixed this afternoon.
It's a surgery with a high success rate, and I'm sure it will all be fine, but this has dredged up plenty of unpleasant memories of her husband's death 10 years ago, so it's a little discomfiting to say the least. She's the sibling I'm closest to, despite the 17-year difference in our ages (she's 49), and the thought of anything going wrong just absolutely wrecks me. BUT, I'm going down to sit with her girls so that they don't get all hysterical (not that much keeps Jessica from getting hysterical), so I get to pour my fears out onto my imaginary internet friends (phrase copyright SheVerb) and otherwise bottle that shite up around the family. I'll post an update tomorrow or the next day.
2) I'm having a home game in Charlotte next Friday, 12/30. $50 max buy-in cash game. Anybody who wants to ride up or down from wherever is welcome. Drop me an email if you're anywhere in the vicinity.
3) This is going to be a rant. Feel free to skip.
Rant Removed by cooler head later in the morning. Sorry for anyone who I upset by it. Was a little hypersensitive due to some non-poker personal life things going on.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
PokerStars Game #3408369607: Tournament #16685862, Hold'em No Limit - Level III (25/50) - 2005/12/22 - 20:52:18 (ET)
Table '16685862 29' Seat #9 is the button
Seat 1: mobster80 (840 in chips)
Seat 2: Seacap1 (1315 in chips)
Seat 3: Rican2 (2255 in chips)
Seat 4: Jhartness (2530 in chips)
Seat 5: d1am0ndc (4488 in chips)
Seat 6: mama mia17 (3030 in chips)
Seat 7: X_Patsfan_X (882 in chips)
Seat 8: Scuffy19 (785 in chips)
Seat 9: d2609j (1620 in chips)
mobster80: posts small blind 25
Seacap1: posts big blind 50
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Jhartness [7c 2s]
Jhartness: raises 100 to 150
mama mia17: calls 150
d2609j: calls 150
mobster80: calls 125
*** FLOP *** [7d Ts 2c]
mobster80: bets 690 and is all-in
Jhartness: raises 690 to 1380
mama mia17: folds
*** TURN *** [7d Ts 2c] [7h]
*** RIVER *** [7d Ts 2c 7h] [Kh]
*** SHOW DOWN ***
mobster80: shows [Th Ah] (two pair, Tens and Sevens)
Jhartness: shows [7c 2s] (a full house, Sevens full of Deuces)
Jhartness collected 2030 from pot
Dealer: mobster80 has two pair, Tens and Sevens
Dealer: Jhartness has a full house, Sevens full of Deuces
Dealer: Game #3408369607: Jhartness wins pot (2030) with a full house, Sevens full of Deuces
Dealer: mobster80 finished the tournament in 758th place
Rican2 said, "lol raised w/ a 7/2 and hit a boat"
Rican2: damn if that aint luck
Jhartness: always play the hammer, baby!
Jhartness: most powerful hand in poker
Rican2: i dont even think i can say nh to that one but it worked so nh
mobster80 [observer]: huh?Rican2: lol
This is just my end of year mix CD, no big deal, but it turns oout usually to be a pretty good party background mix, with stuff I've spent the last year listening to. Mostly new releases, but this year's disc is chock with new live releases of older boogie that I love, including my favorite song of all time, Angel From Montgomery.
Jason Mraz - Wordplay
Ben Lee—Catch my Disease
Gwen Stefani—Hollaback Girl
Young Dubliners—Real World
Jamie Cullum—Get your Way
The Duhks—Dance Hall Girls
The SubDudes—Known to Touch Me
Phil Vassar—Dancing with Dreams
Trace Adkins—Songs About Me
Shooter Jennings—4th of July
Lucinda Williams—Real Live Bleeding Fingers & Broken Guitar Strings
Marc Cohn—Walking in Memphis
Bonnie Raitt—Angel from Montgomery
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
But I'm not, so here are a few things I learned from playing with (losing to) bloggers during my trip to the WPBT Winter Classic.
1) Get 'em talking and having a good time, and they will ship you chips. Shelly's got a great story about how I applied this at the IP for fun and profits for all the bloggers there, but I learned it from G-Rob in the side game at Bradoween. The more people are chuckling at/wondering at your crazy play or wacky comments, the less they take it personally when they sling a pot to you. That means they're not playing their top game, and you're gonna get paid.
2) Min-raises and flat-calls make the baby Jebus cry. It's taken a year to understand and begin to implement the "fold or raise" philosophy, but I credit time at the NLHE table with April and DoubleAs great post on pressure points to solidifying this idea for me.
3) The same cards that are auto-fold in early position are worth a raise in late position. Position, position, position. No really, position is more important than any of the books will ever tell you. It also doesn't become as readily apparent playing online, at least at the limits and levels I can afford to play. But it becomes so incredibly important when playing live and for money that matters.
4) Pay attention to table texture. I blew off about $100 in profits in the IP poker room because I realized three hands too late that the table texture had changed radically. When the rock-tight locals sit down to grind, the fun is gone and the easy money is gone with them. The ability to adjust to table shifts quickly is something I'm going to need more practice in casinos to master. Darn, guess I'll have to go back to Vegas.
5) Most people playing at the $1-2 NL tables or the small buy-in tourneys just aren't very good. I'm okay, I get buy and manage to usually scrape together a positive number at the end of each month, but I don't consider myself to be a fantastic player. That said, I can only come up with one time in the three tourneys I played that I felt like I got absolutely outplayed on a hand. And it was not a great loss, because I got pushed off a hand rather than playing it all the way through, and when the guy showed his semi-bluff and said "my kicker's no good," all I could think was well, we had the same hand, top pair 10 kicker, so it wasn't really BAD, either. So I laid down a split pot, not a huge deal. Now that's certainly not to say that I'm the next Bill Fillmaff, but I realized that I can play live with most folks who are gonna be slumming down at my levels.
So how have I applied what I've learned? Not terribly well, but I've recouped about $60 of the $600 I left in Vegas since coming back. A couple of SNG cashes and 7th in a $50 freezeout on Absolute for $115, before donking off $40 last night in $1/2 limit trying to work off a bonus. But still, one week, recouping 10% of my losses, I'll take it. We'll be just like all the other losers and call the expense of my trip "paying for my poker education." Or we could just call ita 5-day vacation for less than a grand total, which is a fuckton of entertainment value in my book.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
So we're done.
Officially we're "on hiatus." I don't know how long a hiatus, or what we'll do when we come back, but it will be very different. We'll be renting a stage, rather than having our own space, which means less control over dates, rehearsals and all the other details. We'll be down to doing 2-3 shows a year, rather than the 8 or so we did at our busiest. And I don't know that I mind any of that. My priorities have shifted in the last 5 years, as have my wife's and all the other folks involved with the theatre. Maybe it's for the best that we stop trying to be a full-time producing organization, and just do a couple shows a year.
And maybe I'm just bitter because I feel like my city could give two shits about theatre and the arts and no amount of beating my head against the wall is changing that. My forehead is bleeding and the wall is still standing, unscathed.
I got into theatre to meet girls and save the world. Got half of it covered, since I met my wife in the theatre. That second half has been a lot tougher. I do think that we have, at times, created a positive impact on our society with the shows that we have produced. I also think that there have been a lot of times we've been screaming into the abyss and hearing nothing coming back but the echo of our own voices.
So now I'm a stage director without a stage. But like I said, my priorities have shifted. I'm also now a card player. Not always a good one, but I am a card player. And I'm a writer again. Ditto the first, not always a good one, but I am writing again. I'm becoming able to touch those places inside me that I walled off a dozen or so years ago that allowed me to write. And it feels good and painful all at the same time, like a hot shower after being very cold, the warm good pain of blood rushing into unused capillaries (sp?). Before too long I'll tell the story of why I stopped writing, but there's not enough blood back into those toes to write it yet.
I guess for me the inflection point of the week was when I was driving home from the airport Monday after landing. I'm heading into Charlotte, thinking about getting everything ready for this moveout and the last weekend of our show, and all I kept thinking was "I much prefer being part of the community of poker bloggers that I just left to being part of the Charlotte theatre community."
That's when I realized two things - 1) I need a break from producing theatre in a town that could care less about theatre for social change, and 2) I have a wonderful group of friends from all over the country that accepted me without batting an eye (even at the kilt!) and they are my friends whether I produce any shows, cast them in plays, or even paly another hand of cards again. And that's priceless.
Thank you for being part of my life. I miss you all.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Good f'n thing. While I didn't blow through the entire $900 bankroll I took with me, I did donate $600 to the worldwide poker economy. Fortunately for my mental health, most of my losses went to wonderful people whom I had just met. Then there was this fucker.
Let's start our tale at the IP poker room, where I have finally regained that elusive status - even for the trip. After catching Jacks full on one hand and beating AK with AA the next to felt Steve, and cracking Shelly's AA with 88 and a set on the flop (slowplaying Aces makes the Baby Jesus cry). I saw Drizz racking up about 19,000 grey chips, and he said "Storming the castle!"
I'm totally there! I'm focused, I'm playing well, I can hear the Chariots of Fire running on the beach song playing in the background as we all stride into the poker room at the Excalibur. I avoid the 2-6 spread limit donkey game like the plague, because I'm way too sober to think I can hang with these bloggers at a limit game. So I settle into my nice warm seat at the 1-3 NL table across the room. It's a scene right out of a nativity at the NL table. The stars are out, the cattle are lowing, and the donkeys are braying. Boy, are the donkeys braying. It only takes about 45 minutes for the hee-haws to suck out on F-Train for two buy-ins, so he takes a walk to cool down, leaving me the sole blogger at the table.
Not to last, as the scent of donkey attracts bloggers like the aroma of four-day old hippie funk draws narcs. Shortly we were joined by Drizz, the lovely April, the almost as lovely Joe Speaker, and my nemesis of the evening. I think between April, Jeff and Speaker, there had probably been about 14 bags packed for the blogger trip, and I would lay 2-1 that DonkeyPuncher and Joe had April dominated in the quantity of hair product race by at least a 3-1 margin. April is a beautiful woman, but those boys take their beauty regimen really seriously :).
So I've been donking off chips all night, only being profitable on wheel spin prop bets (never take yellow), when THE HAND happens. I've got about $75-90 in front of me (told you I've been donking all night), I look down at AQ off. Raise to $15, Donkeypuncher calls. Flop comes Q 6 6. TPTK. two pair out there. The only thing I could possibly believe that he would call an all-in with would be pocket 6s, KK or AA, since there's nothing else with a 6 that he would have called my preflop raise with. DP goes into the tank.
Thinking. Pleae call with AJ
Thinking. Please call with AK
Thinking. Please call, I gotta pee.
"Man, this is like the worst call I've made all weekend. "
DP flips up JJ and my heart soars. The heavens opens up and beam of light shines down on my AQ laying face up on the table. Chorus of angels sing the Hallelujah chorus. I feel the tide of my evening begin to turn around.
Jack on the turn. Fuck. I still have outs. Invoke the power of CJ. Be the luckbox. Be the luckbox.
I don't even have time to register the river card through my shock while I hear, over the din of the poker room, belted out from the seat right next to me, for all the world to hear, as my entire body sags, and I sit, head in hands,
"Dem's Quads, Beetches!"
I ship chips, but I get the story. And it's the story that matters, right? I couldn't even be mad at the poker gods, because now I realize that it's my lot in life to have someone catch runner runner quads on me at every blogger gathering from now til the end of my days. At least I know that my money went to a good place, since Puncher and his crew left about 45 minutes later to go to the strip clubs.
This lap dance brought to you by Falstaff. :)
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
So here's the thing. We took ownership of any part of Vegas we happened to be in last weekend. From the Castle to the IP to the MGM, you knew if the bloggers were in the hizzy. Hammers were flying, blinds were straddled and raised dark, wheels were spinning, Joe Speaker was king of prop bets, chips were shipping, and fun was definitely +EV.
But holy shit these people can play some cards. If ever I doubted that bloggers could throw cards with the best of them, all doubts were set aside when I watched April turn it up a notch after painting a bulls eye on this poor stoopid kid at our table Sunday night. This dumb bastard sat down and sucked out harsh on the Geek, then gloated a little about how he "had the cards."
Hey Doogie, bad move. And news flash: Q-10 off suit isn't strong enough to call a raise preflop in early position.
The lovely April went from jolly April to Chick On a Mission like the flip of a switch. And it was thing of beauty. I'm waiting for her to post all the gory details, since I had to leave and pack before she was done having her way with him, but I contributed to his tilt in my own, small way.
I'm in middle position with A4 off-suit. Bunch of limpers, so odds are almost right for me to play my crap. So I do. With a limp.
Flop - 2 3 Q
Checks around. That was one of the best flops I could have ever dreamed of, so I'll take off a free card.
Turn - 6
Doogie (or Red Shirt) in early position fires $10 into a $12 pot. I know he's got a Queen with some medium kicker. Folds around to me.
"So it's gonna cost me ten bucks to hit my gutshot?"
Stares at me.
Alan and April chuckle.
River - 5
Alan and April laugh out loud. Red shirt's whole body deflates. He bets $10
"Raise to $20"
Red Shirt goes to the bathroom for a minute.
That was nice. Still lost a shitload of money that night, but I think I gave it all to either Shelly or April, so it coulda been worse.
More to come, including important lessons on my game learned from playing with people who kicked my ass, and the inevitable bad beat story, which is only really a moderate beat, but still a good story. Oh yeah, and then there's the one about G-Rob collapsing to his knees in the Castle poker room...
Monday, December 12, 2005
1) 7:36 AM – Iggy gets the entire blogger contingent a verbal warning from the IP Poker Room for dropping the F-Bomb. Despite repeated efforts, we are unable to get thrown out for excessive profanity. Or stupidity.
2) Fuck these guys can play.
3) The 24-hour restaurant at IP closes at 10PM Wednesday nights. This is just wrong.
4) BigMike is the best sport in the free world, answering a Dial-A-Shot at 4AM his time from a bunch of crazy fuckers, getting out of bed to do the shot, and serenading Joanne with a rendition of “Joanada” That man is my hero.
5) I gotta get one of those little fucking notepads. This bitch is heavy.
Those were my notes after night 1, where Iggy, Maudie, Joanne, Bill (Mr. Joanne), Grubby and me hung out at Harrah's til Oh : Fuck:30 in the morning and then played 1-2 NL Hold Em until 8AM.
More to come, including a boatload of pictures and accounts of storming the castle, a new Mr. Brown Shirt mission from God with Austin April, getting civilians to play the Hammer at MGM, my life as bubble boy and more fun than I even imagined, and I went with high expectations.
I really have to give a shout out to all the folks I ended up hanging with, it was super-cool meeting all of you/seeing you again. To the folks I didn't get to spend enough time with, we'll have to catch up next time round.
For tonight, I'll close by echoing something Joe Speaker said to our blogger table at the Castle - "Will all you guys come move to my neighborhood?"
Even Donkeypuncher. Because boy, is there a bad beat story coming there. Hairy Hillbillies O, Metrosexuals 1.
Oh yeah, and we renamed Austin April JunkKicker. I don't remember why, but I'm pretty sure I got felted to gain her the nickname.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
To say that workplace productivity all over the poker blogosphere has been limited would be an understatement on the level of "Teddy Kennedy drinks a little," or "G.W. isn't the most intelligent President we've ever had." There you go, equal opportunity politico-bashing.
But on the theatre front, it's kinda fucked up.
Less than a year after moving out of the warehouse where Off-Tryon was birthed to join Barebones Theatre Group in the Southend Perfoming Arts Center (translation: different warehouse on the other side of town), we've lost our lease and have to be out by the end of the year.
The landlord isn't interested in having another theatre in the building, even for more money, so we've got to load out all our shit. Again. And uproot our audience. Again. And reschedule our season to fit in the open spaces in our new temporary home. Again. Frustrated would be an understatement. Pissed to the nines would be an understatement. Feeling a little thrown under the bus is more like it.
So after 5 1/2 seasons, I have a theatre company whose future is now a little in limbo. We do have a company in town that will let us perform in their studio theatre for two shows this spring for a nominal fee, but now we have to worry about things like our audience finding us again, after we saw a big drop in audience from the last move. I'm not sure we have the critical mass to manage another move, and not sure that I have the energy to devote to recreating the company. Again.
So we're going to perform the last two weeks of our current show, pack all our shit up, and go regroup. Maybe we become a nomadic company for a couple of years, renting stages and getting our business-side ducks in a row. Maybe we vastly reduce the number of shows that we produce. Maybe we fold. I hope that last isn't the option we choose, but we'll see. I'm less than thrilled at the prospects of upfitting yet another warehouse just to be thrown out after a few years, so I think that whatever space we move into, we need to own, or at least have sometime of ironclad renewal policy.
And then there's the question of whether or not Charlotte even wants an independent theatre scene, which I can't answer. Our major professional theatre folded early this year when they couldn't make ends meet, and they weren't the first theatre to go under in recent years. It's interesting that we're a city that has spent almost $100 Million in the past few years on new theatre buildings for the University, Community College and Children's Theatre, but the companies themselves can't afford to inhabit those venues. Attendance sucks all over town, small companies and community theatres alike are struggling, and I don't know if I've got it in me to beat my head against that brick wall for another 5 years.
Any city out there want a kick-ass independent theatre company to move in and produce thought-provoking, issue-oriented theatre? Have light board, can travel.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Her ass, more specifically. Bent over the department secretary's desk, blue denim stretched tight across an unfamiliar ass. Hmmm, must be September, fresh meat coming to campus.
So I backed up a step, checked out the rest of the package. Blonde, not bad; short, that works, I dig short chicks; funky hat, wild glasses - this one could be fun.
Before the day was out I found out her name was Suzy, she was in three of my classes, she lived in Charlotte and had just transferred in as a junior. By the end of the week I found out she had started back to school after taking a year off to be with her dying mother, so when her mom died, she came to Winthrop for a new start. I found out she was crazy-wild, showing up to my apartment with a sports bottle full of screwdrivers and taking me to the bar where her dad worked to party for the night.
By the end of the month we were pretty serious and I had figured out that there was a lot going on with this chick, and she was gonna be worth hanging around because shit was always interesting when she was with me. By the end of the semester I had dropped the other two chicks I was seeing and was spending most of my nights at her place in Charlotte, preferring the 45-minute drive from campus to the 15-minute drive to my rented place with two other guys.
By the end of the next semester I knew I loved her, and had asked her to marry me when we finished school. And six months after I graduated, that's just what we did.
I was right, there is a lot going on with this chick, and shit is always interesting with her around. We fight like cats and dogs sometimes, snuggle like disgusting teenagers other times, and you don't want to read about the rest :). But ten years ago this weekend, I went into work and asked my boss for a long lunch so I could go downtown and get my marriage license. When the blue-haired Betty behind the counter said Honey, ya'll know you can go right across the street and get married anytime, right? we did just that.
Along the way we picked up Dawn & Darryl to be witnesses to our wedding, because they happened to be in the magistrate's office swearing out a complaint against Dawn's boyfriend (not Darryl) for beating her in the head with a telephone the night before, and we exchanged out vows into the microphone through the bulletproof glass at the Mecklenburg County courthouse. Dawn cried, Darryl beamed, and I think there might even have been a gleam in the judge's eye as he pronounced us husband and wife.
So this afternoon we're headed up to Asheville to take a candlelight tour of the Biltmore Estate, stay in a private cottage at a bed & breakfast, complete with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries (and a jacuzzi tub), and we're going to spend a couple of days away from the computer, away from the various theatres, and I'm going to thank my best friend in the world for sharing her life with me for the past ten years, and ask her very nicely to stick around for the next fifty or so.
You guys enjoy your weekend, and hug somebody you love.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
But anyway, this weekend was my annual foray into that realm that all theatre technicians loathe and FAR too many "normal" people love - The Nutcracker.
Find me anyone in stage blacks who claims to enjoy Nutcracker or who wouldn't happily travel back in time to SIDS that Tchaikovsky fucker with a pillow and smile in his crib and I'll show you a lying sack of sleepless December nights.
Fortunately, these days my Nutcrackers come in abridged versions, as part of the Charlotte Philharmonic Orchestra's Christmas Fantasy show. 8am lighting load-in into a 2100-seat sold out hall, 3 1/2 hours to focus, 3PM rehearsal, 8PM show, 10PM load out, and by 10:45 I was walking to my car. Not a bad day's work, which is televised in various cable markets on random PBS stations across the country. So if anybody tunes into background classical around Christmas and sees the Charlotte Philharmonic in some random place, drop me a note, it'd be neat to have my work seen other places.
This is my third year working with the Philharmonic, and I enjoy it. I do 3-4 shows a year with them, it gives me the chance to act like a "real" lighting designer. I go in, the union electricians do everything. If I feel particularly generous, I may help hand one or two lights. Usually not. We've pretty much gotten it down to a science now - I use the box booms to throw images of Christmas and snow onto the orchestra shell, I use three colors from the mezzanine rail straight onto the organ pipes for color, and have a little bit of high sidelight for breakup patterns and color splashies. And I don't write any cues, I just change colors and patterns as it feels good, so it goes back to the days of running live music, which was lots of fun. And my master electrician told me he thought it was the best looking show I've done with them, which was nice, since he's seen a few of them. It always feels good to get back to what made me want to play with lights in the first place - the immediate reaction of audience to what you're doing, and using lighting to enhance the mood that the performers are creating. It was a good day.
Still hate the fucking Nutcracker. I think I may need to bring Daddy down to visit next year and unleash him on the baby ballerinas. Heh-heh. Crush.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Things I'm looking forward to:
1) Live shots with Al. Dial-a-shots are one thing, but nothing compares with Car Bombs with the master.
2) Low-limit drunken donkey poker with whoever wants to be there!
3) Winning the Gigli prize in the Blogger tourney! I've never seen it, so it's not a total waste on me.
4) Storming the buffets. But don't eat all Daddy's bacon.
5) Shooting the shit with random folks and meeting new people. Everybody's default setting is "cool," so I'm looking forward to it all!
I still suck at poker, so I'm trying to Ebay some lighting gak to afford the trip.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Pot Limit O8 - kicked in junk
Pot Limit Omaha Hi - kicked in junk
NL Hold Em on Party - kicked in swollen junk
NL Hold Em on Titan - sucked out on, then kicked in junk
NL Hold Em on Stars - take a guess
MTTs everywhere - CJ has all my luck, junk throbbing
The only thing working for me is single-table SNGs, mainly on Absolute Poker, because the players suck so much more than Stars and you start with enough chips and low enough blinds to win two hands, dodge assholes until there are only 4 left, then hang on to cash.
I'll be playing nothing but SNGs and maybe a micro-buy-in MTT or two until Vegas. I need to get the bankroll back up to October's levels. Which was still miniscule, but double what it is now.
Rant over, I feel better now.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
"This from Mr. 7-2."
"I made the money, I still get to talk."
I won the tourney, too, which was much harder than the battle of wits with the unarmed and unarmored.
For off-topic and slightly sad Thanksgiving post, check out my other blog.
I'll be cruising to South Carolina for Turkey tomorrow, so everybody have fun, be safe, and eat yourselves into an absolute fucking coma. And congrats to Al for hitting the final table of his Boathouse freeroll with an M of 1 last night and coming back to win the thing! As he said later, "Now we're just sitting here getting retarded!"
Exactly 14 days until I land in Vegas with the NC Poker Posse. The micro-limits may never be the same. I can't wait.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Entitlement Tilt - when you think you deserve to win, so get further and further tilted by the "donkey" plays of others, when in fact you are the donkey and cannot see it because your ego has swelled up and you can't see over it.
That's been my past week. I can't BELIEVE he called a 5xBB raise with 64 soooted! Of course he can, he's got 17K in chips, the big blind is 100, he has the chance to knock another player out completely, and more than that, it's a $1 MTT for fucksake. Now self, you're not pissed because he called with 64 sooted, that's what you WANT him to do. You're pissed because you went over the top of him all in when he raised your flop bet because you have AA, and aces NEVER get cracked. SOooooo, it's not that he's a donkey to call with 64 sooted, you're pissed because you're the donkey that didn't consider for a second that there was a hand with a 6 in it that he could have called your preflop re-raise with.
Entitlement tilt - because you've read the books, and you're a poker blogger, fahgodsake, these guys shouldn't be able to catch on you for two weeks straight with barely a SNG cash in sight.
News Flash - as my daddy always says (real one, not the blogger) "The sun shines on every dog's ass once in a while. Translation - even lemurs get dealt aces.
So I'm gonna take this week off from online poker, take a breather, eat an obscene amount of turkey at my folks' house Thursday, and have a little home game on Friday. Then I'll log back in for the Titan depositor's freeroll on Saturday. We'll see how that goes. Then Sunday I've got a gig doing the Christmas show for the Charlotte Philharmonic Orchestra, so I'll be in the theatre from 8AM - 1AM. Hours suck, but the checks clear.
Friday, November 18, 2005
1) Delia's Gone - American I
2) Folsom Prison Blues
3) Boy named Sue - from Live at Folsom Prison
4) Rusty Cage - American II
5) Redemption Song - with Joe Strummer - Unearthed
6) Wichita Lineman - Unearthed
7) Hurt - American IV
8) Ring of Fire
9) Singer of Songs - Unearthed
10) Jackson - with June Carter
And along the same vein - here are my top 10 Desert Island Discs
1-4) Johnny Cash Unearthed
5) Indigo Girls - eponymous debut CD
6) Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes
7) Sam Bush - Live recording from Van Hoys Campground 2001
8) John Hartford - Aero-Plane
9) Hayseed Dixie - Live recording from 2003
10) Great Big Sea - Rant & Roar
So what 10 albums would you load on your iPod for a trip to a deserted island? List in comments or your own blog. Oh, and let me know if you want copies of the Sammy or Hayseed shows, they kick mucho ass.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
WARNING - This won't work if the people you're playing are any good. But if you're trolling around the low-level SNGs ($5 - $10), this is actually ridiculously effective.
1) If you're 3rd, you've done your job. You have now made the money, the hard part is over. Your job is not to bludgeon everyone with your incredible skill, your job is to turn a profit. Mission accomplished.
2) Everything else is gravy. And fatboy luuuuvs gravy. So now milk these fools for everything they've got.
3) Ever read Super/System? The old one? Hit it. Power poker has limited place in today's more sophisticated game, because most of us have read the book, but this is 100% the place for it.
In other words, start throwing raises and re-raises like Pauly throws dollars at strippers. Fling chips around like it's Bobby's junk. Even if you're the short stack, jam as many pots as possible. Your opponents, unless one of them has a monster stack, have likely been super-tight waiting for the bubble boy to fall on his sword, and it's going to take them a few minutes to adjust. Don't wait - JAM. Worst case is, you finish third, fire up another one. But at these levels, your opponents cannot handle a super-aggressive player flinging chips like candy, so be that guy. But don't be afraid to drop anything in the face of somebody playing back at you. As I was reminded time and again last night, even lemurs get dealt Aces.
So once you've made the money, shift into hyper-aggro mode to throw folks off balance and steal, steal, steal. I've found it to be more effective than I expected, and remember, my job is done when I've made a profit, now it's time to take the gravy.
Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
at only one table,
or to take up mouse against a sea of fishy Party Poker tables,
and by opposing,
end up richer.
Apologies to people who actually may revere Shakespeare like all my boring-arsed English Lit professors did. Jebus, people, he wrote dick and fart jokes! Well-crafted dick and fart jokes, but the original Slick Willy's shite was at least as raunchy as Daddy most days.
Anyway, back on topic.
It's always a question for me how many tables to play, and why. When I first started playing online, one table was more than enough, even at the lowest of limits. I could barely keep up with reading the board and my hand, then thinking about outs and draws, much less trying to put an opponent on a hand, so playing more than one table was out of the question. Not to mention the 15" CRT I was playing on wouldn't support more than one screen with any reliability. Now I played mostly limit, and as low as I could find, so it was all pretty straightforward.
As I have begun to get the hang of playing (I can almost always tell what my hand is now, and occasionally can hazard a guess what some other idiot is packing), one table becomes far less interesting. There is still data mining to do, watching for betting patterns, etc., but this is less useful in large-field MTTs, as your tables shift so quickly and you may never find these same lemurs again, so paying close attention to these folks is not as valuable as it is in some other cases. So I began to venture into playing more tables at once. It's taken some experimentation to figure out the best method for me, and I'm sure as I log more thousands of hands my number of comfortable tables will increase, but here's where we are today.
I'll play two tables of no-limit or pot-limit comfortably, and up to 4 tables of limit. But I don't play much limit, so it's kinda moot. I try to stick to the same game on most tables, but I may throw in a low-limit stud Hi/Lo on top of two tables of NLHE just for the sake of mixing things up. I typically get home, eat, log in and see what's up for MTTs on Stars that I like. If there's something appealing, I register for that and fire up a $5 or $10 SNG to go along with. Usually I can get through 3-4 SNGs during a good MTT. Obviously this depends on where I decide to suck for the night, in MTTs or in SNGs. The other night I managed to take 7th out of 300+ in a PL Omaha-hi tourney on Stars, and I think I ran through 5 SNGs during that time. I did okay, cashed in 3 of them and the MTT, so it was a good night.
If I'm playing ring games, pretty strictly 2 tables unless I'm working off a bonus. I'm just not that good yet, so two is about all I can pay enough attention to to be effective. I've seen a severe drop in EV if I add a 3rd table, or if I mix games in my ring games. It's pretty easy to keep the games straight in tourneys or SNGs, but I do not ever recommend playing Omaha and O8 at the same time, for obvious reasons.
I know a lot of folks look at 2 tables as a tiny number, but I often also wonder if those folks who play 4-8 tables at a time would be able to harvest more from the fishies if they played fewer tables and focused more?
Monday, November 14, 2005
Growing up in the Charlotte, NC area, I've been a wrestling fan all my life. I grew up on the weekly NWA exploits of Ric Flair and the Four Horsemen, Dusty Rhodes, Magnum TA, Nikita Koloff and all those guys. As I got older, I watched wrestling less and less, but have always enjoyed the entertainment value, and the sheer athleticism that some of those guys have.
I remember watching a new show called ECW some years ago, and it was a one-hour program featuring a bunch of guys who had been fired from the major promotions or were up and coming wrestlers. One of the first ECW shows I ever saw was a match between Eddie Guerrero and Dean Malenko, neither of whom I had ever seen before. This was a best of three falls match, and it took the entire broadcast. These two guys performed the most amazing aerial moves, combined with incredible mat wrestling, holds and counter-holds that I had ever seen. For a solid 45 minutes these two guys fought like cats & dogs, bouncing around the ring with incredible energy, landing moves with incredible precision, and generally entertaining the living hell out of the audience, both live and broadcast.
I was hooked. I was immediately a fan, and when Eddie moved to WCW and then to WWE, I always enjoyed watching his matches, and his mic skills were unsurpassed. He had the ability to manipulate a crowd into living him one minute and hating him the next. It was a joy to watch him work a crowd.
I've watched wrestling all my life, and I'm not at all ashamed to say that. There have been three nights that I have watched wrestling that have brought tears to my eyes. The first was the night after Owen Hart fell to his death in a stupid stunt entering the ring. The second was a live broadcast where Ric Flair returned to wrestling after a REAL forced retirement after some disagreements with management. The third was tonight. WWE Raw tonight was a tribute show to Eddie Guerrero, who was found dead in his hotel room yesterday morning. As yet no other information is available about his death, but it isn't outside the realm of speculation to think that the drug and alcohol problems he faced thoughout his life caught up to him and may have caused an early heart attack. That's just my guess, based on what I know about the effects of drug abuse on the body, and the fact that Eddie had been clean and sober for the past several years.
Raw was a tribute, and I only caught the last hour, but it was amazing. I watched Sean Michaels put over Rey Mysterio Jr. in a singles match. I watched Ric Flair get a clean pinfall on Steven Regal, but the thing that got me the most were the testimonials. When you look at some of these guys like Batista, who's something like 7' and 300+ pounds and they are just sobbing because they have lost one of their best friends, it can't help but touch you. And deeply. These guys, who we usually only see through their personas and muscles and machismo, went on camera tonight in what they call in the business a shoot, or a real-life interview. And they said goodbye to their friend. And they weren't ashamed of the tears they shed for the man that they loved and respected. And I'm not ashamed of the tears I shed tonight for the man who entertained me so much with the obvious love he brought to his craft.
Adios, Eddie. Viva la Raza, mi amigo.
North Carolina Theatre Conference gets Will Farrell to come to the conference and present our High School Play Festival Winners with their prizes, thus insuring that in the eyes of 400 teenagers, theatre is now cool, and we'll never be able to top this year's conference.
Played a little poker online while I was at NCTC, made a few bucks. Not able to concentrate on it much due to work.
Got back for all of 3 days and flew to Orlando for the Lighting Dimensions International trade show, the highlight of which was carrying my heavy-ass suitcase ('cause poka chips be heaby) into the room to find that the TSA does think that Nexgen chips look like dynamite on X-ray, but they at least put everything back when they were done.
Got together a little game with some other drunks in my room, made a whopping $3. Was stuck $40 at one point, but let a buddy from Atlanta call dealer's choice and cleaned up with wild-card 7-Stud variants. I'm not proud, I'll play your Follow the Bitch.
Sat on the patio of the Embassy Suites Orlando getting happy-hour plastered with folks from work when Al calls for a Dial-a-Shot. Chugged the cheap beer the hotel was giving away for free with Al, to the bemusement of my co-workers, who had apparently never heard of Dial-a-Shots before. But I have all their cell numbers in speed-dial, so now they're doomed!
Flew home today, flighy sucked, airport food sucked, seeing my wife for the first time in almost two full weeks - fucking priceless.
And won a little pissant $5 SNG on Stars - working to double my meager bankroll before the WPBT trip. Gonna take more than $5 SNGs to do it, but it can be done.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
I've written, off and on, since I was a kid, and now some of those writings are coming to fruition, but not in anything like what I had imagined. Yes, I write a blog. Or maybe a blog and a half. And that counts, as there are a couple of you out there reading this, so it counts as writing. And I did have a poem and performance published by Turner South in their compilation My South (available on Amazon, but I don't get a dime of it). But the most startling bit of this is that I have now been asked to write articles for Protocol, the theatrical technology industry's trade magazine. Now I know a bit about gear, you can't live in this world for a decade without it, but they want me to write things about sales and management strategies. So now I feel a little like those poker authors must feel when they are beginning to put down on paper how to do the things that they do instinctively. It's a little odd to have people I respect come out of the blue and say "Hey, I liked your article." That's just a little odd to me. But cool.
Oh, and I'll put up a copy of the book and DVD that I'm published in as my bounty at the WPBT Winter Gathering - so don't call my all-in, or you might get stuck with me on your bookshelf!
In poker news, not much. I've dicked around a little with micro-limit Omaha Hi, and I'm seeing success at that level, but I don't think my strategy of "bet the pot any time I think I'm ahead at that point" is going to hold up at any higher levels. Played a little with the Princess today, I fear her raises. She wisely does not fear mine. Flopped quad 4s and forgot to lay in "them's quads, beetches!"
Sucked in the WWDN tourney, and can't play this week due to work. Made 2nd in a SNG while that was going on, so I stayed +$ for the night. Life calms down when I get back from Orlando next week, so I can concentrate on building my Vegas bankroll for the last few weeks before the trip. December can't come soon enough - one week my anniversary vacation and the next week degenerate Vegas vacation - woo-hoo!
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Go check out Pauly's main blog - I gotta dig into Pauly's music hard drive when I'm in Vegas next month. But this shit here is pure goddam poetry - Yeah, as my friend Molly reminded me why I went to see Dave Matthews... to hit on sorority chicks. They might dress crunchy and smoke enough dope to get an entire reggae band high, but they also shave their arm pits and wear Victoria's secret g-strings.
Check out Maudie's history as a beatnik coffee bar folk goddess - think we can get a 50th anniversary fucked up poker blogger performance art rendition of Ginsberg's Howl going on?
There's more great shite out there, but I haven't made it through my first Mountain Dew yet, so maybe I'll be back later. Or maybe I'll actually come up with some original content.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Let's start with Digital Blackjack. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to come up with this shit. There's a table, chips and a dealer, just like in a real casino, except when she hits the Deal button, cards show up on your computer screen. Just as -EV as live blackjack. Virtual 6-deck shoe, with sensors to see if you have chips in the circle before bets are closed. Really, somebody spent a shitload of time and money coming up with this. I guess it eliminates dealer error. Eliminated a lot of dealer tips, too. I was the only one I saw toke the hour I was sitting there.
Then there's video poker. I'm sure there's some appeal somewhere to video poker and slot machines, but not while sober.
Still managed to piss away $150 over the course of the evening. Then came home and dumped about $70 on TruePoker when my flopped 2 pair didn't hold up against the morons I was playing with. That wiped out my meager winnings for this week, but other than my drunkenness Friday night, I'm still even for the week. And we're just counting the cash I spent Friday as good money spent on entertainment, because it was worth it just for the chat between Daddy and Bobby Bracelet. Those two are five of the funniest people I know.
Something relevant may come soon. The WPBT Vegas trip can't get here soon enough. I need to play face-to-face with crazy people, and soon!
Saturday, October 29, 2005
I will not lemur off $20 at the $.05/$.10 NLHE tables while drunk.
I will not try to hang with poker bloggers at drinking.
I will not blog while drunk.
I will not drink half a bottle of cinnamon liqueur the the night before a 3-hour road trip.
I will not call G-Rob's all in.
Yes I will.
But I will not blog while drunk.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Thank god for spellcheck. Savior of drunken bloggers everywhere,.
Not really - but he did just crack my pocket kings with his pocket 3s. Course the other monkey who went all in preflop with AK sooted also woulda cracked my Kings, too, so there is that. But that was my trip from #6 in chips in the Wil Wheaton dot Net weekly tourney to busted in 40th place by the man with the best hair in poker - G-Rob!
So here I am minding my own business (yeah bullshit I know), when I get seated at the same table as Austin April and Daddy to start the whole thing. I'm skeert already, and it gets nothing but worse when the 860th greatest poker player in the world, Bobby Bracelet, sits down. But I manage to lemur myself into a decent position, top 10 or so in chips, when I bust out the guy next to me. Who should sit down, but the one, the only, the man, the myth, the legend, the friggin' chip leader - G-ROB!!!!
I'm 2nd in chips and Pokerstars decides that warrants sticking the chip leader on my right elbow. Oh, the humanity. So G-Rob proceeds to tear up the table as only he can, but we pretty much stay out of each other's way (except for him stealing my blinds more times than I felt was absolutely necessary), while knocking out a few other folks, including me inflicting an unfortunate suckout broadway straight on the river to bust some perfectly nice person with a Duke Blue Devils avatar whose name I don't recall.
The there is THE HAND. I look (blearily, as my 3rd Chat-A-Shot has passed, and I'm kinda buzzy by now) at my screen and see iTunes playing a CRUSHING Sam Bush show from Asheville this summer. Wait, that's now. No, I look down and see pocket Kings. Cowboys. Crush (to steal a phrase from Daddy, who had gotten a table change and made it back to witness this evil).
Some yo to G-Rbo's right raises 3xBB. He obviously hasn't gotten the memo. G-rob to my right goes all-in preflop. He's used this tactic a couple of times already and I figure nobody catches aces that often, so I call him. Yo calls u both. I turn up my cowboys, G-Rob turns up his 3s, and the yo turns up AK suited. I think "I'm so fucked. There's no way this holds up."
Flop - 4 3 Q
Turn - A
River - not a King
And I'm out in 40th, courtesy of G-Rob's 2-outer.
If he sucks at poker, then I'm a donkey-fucking lemur.
Here's the quote of the night, courtesy of (who else?) Daddy
never had intercourse with a monkey, but my cousing sucked of patrick ewing once.
Good game, G-Rob. Now bust the rest of these motherfuckers!
1. If you're participating in your first WPBT event, how are you feeling right about now? (looks like about 20 or so newbies, not sure any are reading this right now) I guess this is my first official WPBT event, and I'm stoked! But let's flash back to the summer...
After a 15-minute rant about lack of laundy and not being able to find my lucky "Freak Parade" T-shirt and the ill-fitting poop-brown T that my loving wife had bought me being the only thing clean, I cruised down I-85 with no small amount of butterflies bouncing around my overdeveloped tummy.
WTF was I trying to do? I was driving two hours away to play poker in some guy's house that I had never met, with a bunch of people I had never met before for more money than I could really afford to play around with comfortably. I am so f'n out of my league, dude. Some of these guys play poker FOR A LIVING!!! And most of them have been playing a lot better, and totally a lot longer than I have. And what if I get sat with Iggy? Bad enough he's the blogfather, how hard can you play against a midget housewife and not feel bad? So there may have been a little bit of nerves involved.
Then I meander around BFE suburban G-Vegas, where I'm pretty sure they have to FedEx in sunshine every morning to find Casa de Otis. There's already a pile of people there, and I'm pretty sure most of them are smarter, funnier and better poker players than me. Is this what that nancy-boy Mike felt like walking into Teddy's joint? Did I really just have a random Rounders reference? I gotta get out more! How am I gonna know who anybody is? Have any of them even ever read my miserable excuse for a blog? What will I have to talk about with anyone? Will I be expected to drink like Al? That would certainly reveal me as the one incapable of hanging. Oh wait, that's Al, he looks just like the photos on his website.
Funny how that works, people wandering around the yard drinking looking just like online photos of themselves drinking. So I introduce myself to Al, he's cool, the barbecue is unveiled and I end up in a conversation with Wes about the relative merits of SC and NC barbecue. And it's a noun, fuckers. Then I realize that the woman we've been chatting with is Maudie, and all my fears of nothing to talk about go away, while I have a great chat with Lefty and then Maudie about theatre and its merits (and lack thereof). This is cool, it's like I've known these folks my whole life. Oh, That's Otis. And the tall guy is G-Rob. This might be okay after all. Now if I can just NOT embarass myself on the tourney, it will all be fine.
We won't discuss runner runner quads again. But we will talk into the night about Eva's bartending abilities and the consolation beverages she was mixing for everyone. Then it's time for the cash games. Thank god for cash games, right? Yeah, right. You try sitting into a cash game after playing cards for less than a year with the people who you read about strategy with. I'm sitting at a cash game with Heather, Maudie, BadBlood, G-Rob, Gracie, Frank the Tank and TheMark. I'm doomed. Okay, the buy-in is $60. I brought enough for 2 buy-ins. I never play more than $20 a night. This is gonna huuuuurt. G-Rob raises. Blood Calls. Table folds. G-Rob raises, table folds. G-Rob sucks out on Maudie, table folds. G-Rob has half my chips. STOP CALLING G-ROB YOU JACKASS!!!
Half an hour into this I realize that my buzz is gone and I can play poker. I wonder how much G-Rob bribed Eva to get us all liquored up before the cash game? After a good 3 hours of poker, maybe the best 3 hours I've had playing poker, we're done because the food is there. I realize that I can play with these folks. At least today. Okay, got out of that, and covered my miserable tournament loss, too. God, these guys are fun.
In essence, it really was like walking into a home game and sitting down with people you play cards with every week. It's like you've heard the same jopkes before and you don't mind. I was afraid that it would all be DoubleAs-level poker thinking, but no worries about that with G-Rob dropping the Hammer like it's going out of style. There was crazy play, there was solid play, there was gear-shifting that would make Gus Hansen proud. I learned more sitting at Otis' dining room table about poker than I have in the year I've played. I was warm and fuzzy to be able to sit there and hang out, and felt like Indiana Jones outrunning that big frickin' boulder to have escaped The Mark and BadBlood's 3-handed NL Omaha Hi/Lo lemur-fest with any money at all.
It was an evening like a family reunion. At least if your family is kinda insane, and mine is, so it felt right at home. Even the Drunk-A-Lympics reminded me of, well, every weekend in high school.
So that's how I felt walking into my first blogger gathering, and now I feel like if I was in the neighborhood, I'd be perfectly comfortable calling up any of those folks and saying "wassup? Let's go catch a beer!" Which reminds me, almost time to shut down here at the office and stop by the liquor store on the way home. WWdN Up4Poker Tourney tonight at 9, and I think a few Chat-a-shots may have to happen. IM is jhartnessnc, I'll be online for shots tonight after 8.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Anyway, I keep venturing back to TruePoker every once in a while to see what's up and get slapped on the nuts for old times sake, because they don't spread anything lower than $1/$2 limit, and the smallest NL they spread is the same. Until now. Apparently sometime since I was there last, Truepoker, which is honestly a major lemur-farm, has started spreading lower-limit tables, including the ever-popular (at least in this house) 6-max $25 NL tables. And they offered me a 50% reload bonus, so I dropped a few bucks in.
God those players suck. Even more than me. And that's impressive. Table selection is tough, because there just aren't very many people on, but if you can find a good one, you're golden. I managed to triple my buyin at one table before dinner this evening. Then gave back all my profits on a tougher table after dinner. But even the losses are more rough beats and draws not coming through than actually getting outplayed (which certainly happens often enough for me to recognize). So go give it a look, it promises to be profitable. The reload bonus kinda sucks, because even though it's a 50% bonus, it's also a 20x raked hands bonus, and you gotta have at least $1 in rake. So it's gonna take forever for me to clear it, if I can manage at all. Good news is that it clears in $5 increments for every $100 in raked hands, so that helps a little.
And I updated the blogroll. Go to THG's blog for some fantastic cartoons!