I've been spurred on by Daddy's last "Love what you're doing over here" comment, so I figured, hey, what the hell, I'll write a little something about how I've been doing in the poker world.

Poker can eat shit and die.

Though succinct, that sums it perfectly. But, before I can get to why I think that way, let me back up a bit.

From January through April of 'O7, I played 23,000 hands, with a winrate of 3.53BB/100. Not a huge amount of money, but enough to give me something resembling a bankroll for the levels I was playing. The only level I was in the red was 1-2NL, and I wasn't even down a full buy-in. Also, this is without adding the rakeback from months of February and March, which were easily 5 times as high as they've ever been before, and probably will ever be again.

Since April of '07, I've played 10,000 hands, with a winrate of 1.17BB/100. Still in the green, but when you're counting big blinds in quarters, it doesn't add up. Well, technically it adds up to $39, total, but who's really counting? Oh, right, me.

It could be said that with the first set of hands, I was playing more, therefore getting more practice in, which should, in theory, make me a better player. In theory, sleeping with a hot young coed sounds like a good idea, until I realize that when I was in high-school, she was still wallowing in her own feces-filled diaper. Of course, some of you may be into that. I'm not judging, I'm just stating a fact. Yeah, theories can blow me.

Now I'm all depressed about getting older. Thanks, me!

Anyhow, what happened way back in February of last year, I think, was that I went on a heater and got over that hump in regards to playing over my bankroll, and wasn't worried about going "broke". I don't usually deposit a shit-ton of money and grind from there; try to start out with a small ($50-$100) deposit and hopefully be luckier than I am unlucky. There's not an awful lot of room for error there, though.

After April, though, the whole getting lucky right after a deposit hasn't been happening. I'm not losing money, but it's still very frustrating to get up to a certain dollar level and then completely shit the bed. I'm not even talking about trying to squeeze out a little fart and getting wet underwear, oh no. We're talking painful, explosive diarrhea on the ceiling. That happened this weekend. Again. Metaphorically

The funny thing, though, is that when I wasn't playing, I didn't really miss it. No, wait, what I didn't miss was how bitter I could become after losing a big(to me, at least) pot. But, after playing for the last few weeks, I realized that I did miss the way my heart would jump after get it all-in, even when way ahead, and the relief I felt after the pot was pushed my way. Fucking adrenaline, man--damned if I do. That's it; damned if I do.

From the time we all started playing poker, we've been told no emotional ties to the turn of the cards, but you know what? Complete and utter bullshit. If you don't feel anything, what's the point in playing? I still read people's blog, and I know most of you would would agree with me. You're all pissed, filled with indignation towards the guy that called with 10-Jo for half of his stack. I read it every damn day, and yet, we all still play. WHY?

Also, I read about these poker players--nay, kids, because that's what they are--shipping hundreds and thousands of dollars across the table, having million dollar months and I'd really like to know how they got there. Where'd they start? What do they have that I don't? Besides the natural skills, correct bankroll management strategy, analytical mindset, and the desire to sit on the couch and do something other than look at Redtube all day, of course.

But what else? There's got to be more to it than that, right? Of course I'm right. By the very definition of my name, I'm right.

(Thus concludes my quarterly update. See you in April!)