I'm not dead yet.
Nope, I'm still here, still drinking, and still playing [very little] poker over the last week. I hit the figurative wall. I played and played and played and...you get the picture. And then I got to a point where I'd sit in front of my computer, pull up a few tables like I've done hundreds of times before, and then not pay attention to the games. It bored me. And that's not a mindset I need to sit down with anymore.
Now, don't go thinking that I'm going quit the game, because we all know that's exactly the Addict In Denial's defense. I know better. And I'm not about to go on any hiaatus. Nope, that's because I'm just returning from one that was a few days long. See, I tell you all after I've already returned so that you don't have to worry about me. It's all about you.
What do you mean you didn't even know I was gone? Bite me!
The little poker I have been playing has been of the PLO variety, and I realize now that I have no clue how to play. I do know that two pair isn't that good of a hand, and that bottom set can be tossed more often than not, but there are so many other situations that I just have no clue about. Like, what do I do when holding JJ66 double suited and it's been potted before me? Is that pretty much a trash hand when it's been raised? I don't know! I fold my fair share of what are probable decent hands because I'm completely unsure what I'm supposed to do with them.
Sometime in the next few days I'm going to pull out Super System II and read Lyle Berman's chapter on PLO. Hopefully that will clear some things up for me. If not, I'll just continue playing like a po-tard. That's the abbreviated version of "poker retard", in case you were wondering.
And oh man, can I ever play the part of the po-tard, and sometimes without even trying! Talent, I tells ya. T-a-l-e-n-t.
Oh yeah, I think I've found the key that releases the writer inside me. Want to know where I found it? Of course you do.
All you have to do to get me to write, a lot, is this: introduce me to one of your [female] friends, have her date me for a few weeks, and at the end of that time, tell her to uncerimoniously dump me. Works like a charm.
It's true, Trim is my writing kryptonite. I am powerless against the poon.
Now that I no longer have what some people out there a "girlfriend"(I don't call them that, but some do)I can't stop writing. No, no, it's ok. I'm fine. This was bound to happen, so it's not as if I'm crushed. But if you did want to buy me the gift of beer, who am I to stop you?
You heard what I said; beer me.