al-Qaeda, No Poker

al-Qaeda is currently strapping demolition charges to the foundation of their own organization. In recent days, the organization has had two very large "whoops-a-daisies." The first one is dubious, but probably likely. al-Qaeda has both been blamed by Pakistan (which I question) and has accepted responsibility for the death of Benazir Bhutto (I doubt this less). I doubted the claims by Pakistan because both the United States and Pakistan would have a vested interest in blaming al-Qaeda for such an act. The assassination has had the reverse effect as was likely anticipated. I imagine that the motivation for such a killing would be to drive Pakistan into turmoil and divide the country so that the Taliban could have an easier time making a resurgence. They did pretty good on the turmoil part, but they likely didn't plan on the unified backlash against al-Qaeda itself. The second SNAFU that they have made came in bin Laden's latest tape. They haven't actually made the mistake, but I kind of hope this one happens. bin Laden said that al-Qaeda will take the fight to Israel. Good luck. Israel stirs up mixed emotions for me. I do NOT like the unconditional support that the US gives Israel as part of some lingering anti-Muslim sentiment that is LONG past its expiration date, but Israel is a badass country. Israel has a badass, ruthless military. Go ahead bin Laden, you fight the good fight in Israel. If you do, I'm sure Israel might give their Special Forces unit a break from offing Palestinians to go walk through Pakistan for a week or two. The reason I get so much enjoyment out of this is because the cowardice of terrorism is about to run into the does-not-fuck-aroundness of Israel. This ends poorly for the terrorists. I'll link the articles tomrrow.

Sick, Wii, Poker

I'm laying in bed waiting for a doctor's office to open so I can go in, have them tell me I have streptococcus tonsillitis, and then give me a prescription for the pink liquid that tastes like bubblegum. When I was younger they gave me this horrible chalky-tasting concoction that I could only choke down with milk, but sometime around the age of fifteen they switched me to the bubblegum stuff. Thank you Dr. Rude. I hate being sick. When I'm actually sick, beyond the normal cold or flu, I'm a huge baby. Yes, I do in fact want my mommy right now. I don't know what it is. Some people turn into surly a-holes when they are sick, I'm just docile and needy and apologetic.

If it is strep (it is) and I have to stay home from work (I will), at least I have a new toy to waste time with. Yes, I somehow procured a Wii. Every store in Omaha is entirely sold out of accessories and most of the better games, but I still have my one Wiimote with Nunchuk, Wii Sports, and Mario Galaxy. Mario Galaxy makes me feel drunk. You are Mario, and you are traveling through the galaxy to try and find Princess Peach who has been kidnapped. What makes me feel drunk is that you land on these tiny little comets and planets where you run all over the 3D surface, upside down, etc. It is very disorienting. I need to acquire Wii Play so I can play Tanks. Tanks is the best game ever. If you need to know why, search for it on YouTube.

I played a $10 HU match yesterday. I had been sitting and waiting for a game for quite some time now, but I've been giving up after about a half an hour at a table with no takers. I played a guy that I've played before. He lucksacked me bad two straight times previously (he was the guy that kept making gutshots, and the gutshot card would give me two pair), thus making him think that he's a lot better than I am. The jackass said "Good luck with your last $10" before the match started, and I proceeded to destroy him. I polished him off when I got him to call AI when I had a straight. He raised preflop, and I just called with KJdd. Normally, I would reraise this hand, but it is better to play this guy postflop than to have to make hero calls preflop with hands like KJ. The flop came out AxT with one diamond, and he min bet. This is almost always a sign of strength from him, but I took one off knowing that I get paid if I spike my gutterball. I did when a Q peeled on the turn and I bet pot for around 1k. He insta-called and we took a blank of the river which left me with the stone nuts. He started the hand with about 6k, so he still had 4.5k sitting behind with a pot of just over 3k. I decided just to move in and hope that he couldn't get away from hands like AK or AJ, and really hoping that he had 2 pair because he's never folding. I'm guessing he had AJ because he took a long time to call, but his cards insta-mucked and I left without saying anything. I resisted the urge to play another match because I had someplace to be, but I really wanted to throttle him in four or five straight matches just because he deserves it. Time to call a doctor.

Reading/Listening, Internet, Girl, No Poker

Reading: Sixty Stories. Still. I'm in a reading downswing right now. It happens. I'm only getting through maybe one short story a week, and then I'm distracted by various shiny things. I'll get back into it heavy probably in the first week of January.

Listening: It was split this week. I listened to both The Train off of the Idlewild soundtrack and Runnin' by the Pharcyde. Both songs are amazing. For the non-hip-hop-junkies (all of you who read this), Pharcyde is an underground group that was big in the nineties. They really pushed the boundaries of hip-hop with their odd style. This song, however, has a great overall feel to it that makes it "nearly" ageless (they say 1995 in the song). People who don't like hip-hop will like this song. As for The Train, it is perfect for those who like stoner music. There's a lot going on musically, and it blends into this awesome soundscape that I could get lost in for days. Outkast has really branched out in recent years, and songs like this are the direct result of them trying to be the best at their craft.

I haven't posted in a week because my Internet on my desktop has simply decided that it doesn't want to work anymore. I busted out the laptop which had previously been having some issues, but it seems to be working fine. I need to backup everything on it before it ignites into a fireball like it probably will. I don't want to shell out ANOTHER $40 for a different wireless card, as that is obviously the problem. With my laptop on my desk, I get excellent signal from three different connections. My desktop can't get a usable signal from anywhere. I hate technology.

Things are going smashingly with Virginia. We click. I'm going out to see her in Las Vegas in February, and hopefully she will be coming here a week or two before that. Any of you that know me should know that something is up when I go to LAS VEGAS to see a girl and NOT to gamble. I'll probably gamble while I'm there. Just a tiny bit. It's fucking Vegas. What sucks about our situation is that there are sooooo many things to worry about. Things that don't exist in an actual relationship. For instance, she is going to have to rank her favorite residency programs soon (she's going to be a surgeon, I don't know how much I've talked about her on here). I don't want to influence her in any way. I told her that today. It was awkward because I don't know if I HAVE any influence, or should have, or potentially might have. Also, we discussed my trip out to see her. I've decided to stay in a hotel room because it seems like the thing to do. In reality, we've spent three days together. We've never kissed. I don't like the idea of shacking up at her sister's house. "Hi, I'm the guy that your sister met for three days. Where do I sleep?" This conversation skirted around another awkward conversation about "intentions." She has been absolutely amazing about the whole ordeal. I think we both realize that we're walking through a minefield, and we both want to make it through, but it's still a minefield. I'm sure some of you understand. I guess I keep poking the ground with this stick because now I'm in the middle of a minefield. It's a lot more fun than you would imagine ;-). Yep, I made an emoticon. Women ruin me.

Reading/Listening, Harryette Mullen, Relationship, Poker

Reading: Sixty Stories by Donald Barthelme. I'm only fifty or so pages in as I didn't touch it for much of the week, but I love it. In the introduction, Barthelme was quoted as saying that there isn't any emotion in his stories. I think he's wrong. I think all of his stories have a sentimentality to them, it is just hard to access at times because it is presented in such a strange, unfamiliar way. I look forward to plowing through it.

Listening: Monster by Matchbook Romance. I heard it on the loop at Journeys over the weekend while shopping with my parents and couldn't get it out of my head. After an intense search, I found it on iTunes (I didn't know its name) and have listened to it eight times today. I like the creepy chimes and the transitions to the more traditional rock-like chorus. The words are pretty sweet too.

Harryette Mullen was awesome. I love the way she twists language and dwells on sounds. Several of the poems in the book play with word combinations that sound similar to other word combinations. Certain poems are very difficult to read as you have to first read it on face, then go through and figure out what she is trying to sound like, and then reread it with the alternate words substituted. Very, very cool stuff.

So my infatuation has grown into a full on phone romance. It sucks that we have to get to know each other over the phone, but it adds an odd intensity to it for me. Her willingness to stick with this makes me feel indescribably awesome. Jeff and Mike are kind of sick of me, which is annoying, but if it were one of them I would probably be giving me shit as well. Lesson for the women who read this blog: Men may advance in age, but they stop maturing at around thirteen. No exceptions.

I haven't been getting good sleep lately so I've intentionally avoided playing poker. With the elimination of the lowest tier of SnG's to get into the Round 2 I can't play as many satellites as I was before. Further, my perpetual sleepiness always strains my HU game and makes me more likely to tilt, so I've been avoiding all poker. The bug finally bit me a day or two ago and I sat at a micro Omaha H/L table. I dumped $5 in about an hour because I played nearly every hand. Hopefully I'll get decent sleep this week and be able to put in a few hours on Thursday or Friday night.

Reading/Listening, Robber, No Poker

Reading: Sixty Stories by Donald Barthelme. The dude is hilarious. I've previously read The Dead Father which is amazing. The premise of that book is that a son is leading his giant dead father to his burial. It has one of the best last lines of any story ever. I've only read one story out of the book so far, but I'm full of anticipation.

Listening: The entire CD Soul Food by Goodie Mob. Goodie Mob started out in the Atlanta underground scene with Outkast. Soul Food is amazing, but they started to fall apart after the album. I don't know the history and time line well enough, but all I need to know is that Soul Food is awesome. It has a really simple old school flavor to every track, and furthermore it has a good message on several tracks. Think Rage Against the Machine meets old school hip-hop in the lyrics.

I'll write about Harryette Mullen tomorrow when I have half the day off.

While I was in training today I got an e-mail that a bank in Lincoln got robbed today. It was the same dude that robbed me. If you see a dude driving around in a dark colored jacket with a tan fur lining around the face hole call the cops because he's either on his way to rob a bank or has just done so. I'll put up the picture tomorrow.

Wow

I've been in a funk for awhile now. I've wrapped my fists inside the reigns of my life but the horses have still been running where they please. They've taken me to a great spot. I know how this most likely turns out but I don't care because I'm enjoying the moment. I've met a girl that is unbelievable. I hope she never reads this. She's the type of person that's sparked up my passion for life again; the type of person that makes me better solely because I've met her. I think she knows, but I don't care if she doesn't. Part of my inward nature is that I can take a moment and turn it into a lifetime in my own head and people never understand the peculiar smile that I get at random moments. Thank you for giving that back to me, whatever comes of it.

Hockey, Poker

Jeff, Mike, and I met a girl named Virginia at the UNO hockey game last night. Virginia is another fourth year med student that is in town interviewing with both Creighton and UNO. Mike met her at the UNO interviews and found out that she was going to be in town until Tuesday, so we've been showing her around Omaha. It's been fun. Tomorrow night they are coming over for dinner. I will be making enchiladas. I make awesome enchiladas.

Poker has been going pretty terribly. I'm running into some awful beats again. I'm something like -3 in HU matches over the past three days, which isn't bad, but I've been playing really well and just getting bludgeoned with bad beats. An example: I just lost a match with KK vs 94o. We got all of the money in on a board of 2359, the river was a disgusting 9. I also just lost a monster pot in the rematch with my 99 vs his 92dd. I'm still fairly confident, and I haven't even had an ounce of tilt, but it just sucks that instead of building up again I have to wait out this cold streak. Cold streak is also the best way to describe the first semi final tournament yesterday. I'm not blaming my loss on it, but the structure of the tournament was horrible. People started with between 2k and 6k chips, despite the fact that we all paid the same amount to get in. I started with 2.5k and promptly ran my stack down to 900. My table was playing very nit, so I was in a lot of pots but just couldn't make anything happen. Then everything did start going right. I was quickly up to over 11k when I bought a couple of large pots and got paid off when I actually had hands. The average was somewhere near 4k and I was fourth overall in chips. I got moved to a very active table and sat out the first few hands. I got dealt Q4hh in middle position and a pot was finally unopened to me so I popped it. The button looked me up and we took an AJ7 flop with two clubs. This is a good flop for me because I'm pretty sure he's not flat calling with any ace on the button. I bet pot and he called. I put him on some sort of flush draw like a KTcc. The turn peeled a 6h and I bet pot again. He called for about half of his remaining chips and I was confused. I figured he would've pitched the draw on the turn, so now I changed my mind and decided he had some sort of bad suited ace. The river peeled a blank and we checked it down, with him winning the pot with KQcc. I was still in good shape with about 8k in chips, but then I got coolered. I limped a multi-hand pot with 95hh and then called a blind raise from a decent sized stack. The flop was a glorious 755 rainbow and I checked to set the trap. The turn peeled a 9 giving me the boat, and he led out half of his chips. I quickly moved him in and he quickly called with 77. Puke. That pot floored me to 2k and I hovered between 2k and 6k for awhile. I got lucky and hit 7 outs vs QQ with my A5hh on an 23J board, but then went bust in the following hand. I raised Q7cc in an unopened pot on the button. Both blinds called, and we took a K73 flop. I got checkraised by the SB and I called it. He had been very aggressive, so a K was out of the question, along with A7 because he would've reraised preflop. The only hand that scared me was 73, but I wasn't incredibly concerned about it. The turn was a harmless 9, and he threw out a tiny 375 bet into the 4k pot confirming that he had a 7. I flat called for value and the river was another sweet 7. He instantly moved in and I instantly called. He flipped the disgusting A7 and I'm out near midpack at like 130th. I still feel good about the whole tourney because the only mistake that I think that I made was not firing the third shell against KQcc. If I don't second guess myself there I have 15 or 16k in chips I don't look back. Oh well, next month will be better. UPDATE: I beat the dude because I had two hands actually hold up in a row.

Two Gunmen, No Poker

The first part of this blog is about the dumbass from yesterday. I harbor a lot of anger at him, and I push some of it off on society as well. I hate the kid because he thought he was the only person who has had a bad life. He might have had legitimate psychological issues, but I haven't heard anything about that. If he wasn't schizophrenic then I'll hate him for the few days I remember him. His feelings that everything were going wrong are simply stupid. Every person alive has dealt with hard times. I've never been estranged from my family, but I have had the chemicals in my brain conspire to try and get me to hurt myself. I have friends that have battled with drugs, abusive parents, poverty, everything, and yet, I don't know a single mass-murderer. Why? Because all of the people I know are strong. And realistic. They realize that only maybe 5% of people get to lead their life EXACTLY how they want to, and the rest of us have to make compromises. They realize that even though their life sucks right now, there are people out there who have it worse. To the dead murderer: get over yourself. I feel for his family and those of the victims, but I feel that we've gone far enough in this world. He wanted to go out in style? Publicly desecrate his body. Take the glamor out of it. See how many "my mommy didn't hug me enough" types want to go on shooting sprees when CNN devotes 24 hours to torturing their dead body. Feel nauseous at that thought? You should. Everyone should. That's the point. Or, if you don't like this idea, let's go 1984 on these people. I'm not talking a lack of news coverage, I'm saying let's wipe them off the planet like they never existed. It would be better for all of us if they didn't. I want guys in black swat gear covertly stealing year books. I want birth records burned. I want his McDonald's employee of the month nameplate replaced with the dude on the fry-o-lator who really deserved it. I'm tired of giving these assholes the news coverage that they want. I want to be famous too, so why do I have to try and use my brain to achieve this? For every mass-shooting we should have a special on teachers who have won teaching awards. Or community service awards. Stop glamorizing shitbags for a change and see where we end up. It has to be better than where we are.

The second part of this blog is about how I got robbed at work today. A guy walked in and pulled a gun on a girl and myself. It took exactly 45 seconds from the moment he walked in to the moment he walked out. I had weird thoughts when he pointed the gun at me. No "oh shit I'm going to die." I thought about how I jinxed myself because on Wednesday I was arguing with Jeff about how dangerous his brother's job really is. His brother John is a police officer in Plattesmouth. The exact phrase I used with Jeff was "We work in banks in Omaha, your brother works in Plattesmouth. We're twice as likely to get a gun pulled in our faces than he is." I hate being right sometimes. This thought passed through my brain while the robber was there. I wanted to laugh, however it seemed inappropriate. Another thought I had: when he pointed the gun at me, I looked at the opening at the end of the barrel and thought "At least it's small caliber." Apparently it makes a difference to me if I'm getting robbed with a .45 or a .22. I tried to give him all of my rolls of coin because he told me to give him everything. He told me he didn't want it and I was confused for a moment because I was wondering why he wouldn't just say "Give me all of the bills." I almost laughed when I realized that pretty much any bank robber doesn't want twenty pounds of rolled coin to lug with them when they're trying to get away. I almost laughed again when the girl tried to give him her rolls of coin too. Everybody in my bank is totally fine. The other three people there were out of sight and remained so during the robbery, which made everything go more smoothly. There are a couple of things that are still bothering me, the foremost of which is that it didn't really bother me. My hand shook for about two minutes after it happened, but then I was fine. I'm still fine. I took a nap when I got home because I haven't been getting much sleep, and I didn't have nightmares. I'm not any jumpier than normal. I am paying more attention to people's voices now because it's the only distinguishing thing that I had to go on. The robber, no, the douche bag was totally covered from head to foot in dark clothes with his face totally concealed. Aside from height and weight, I only heard his voice. I'm also sort of selfishly upset that it didn't make the news at all. I realize that in the aftermath of the mall shooting, nobody gives a shit that I got a gun stuck in my face, but it's big fucking news to me, thus I want to see it on the actual news. "Local bank robbed at gunpoint, nobody injured." I don't want my name in there, just an acknowledgment that I indeed did get robbed. Just so you all know, I can't tell you how much money got stolen, so don't ask. Suffice it to say it wasn't bad for 45 seconds work.

Reading Continued, Shooting, No Poker

Reading: Sleeping With The Dictionary by Harryette Mullen. I like her a lot, but I'll devote time to her next Monday, or this weekend after I've finished it. This will now be devoted to Kafka. My Kafka wrap up will be easy because the Barnes and Noble version that I read had a few questions that it asked at the end. I'll simply answer those.

Q: What can be said of his [Kafka's] notion of resolution? Is a satisfying ending possible in his fiction? How do you read the ending of "The Metamorphosis"? Does it strike you as particularly superior or inferior to the rest of the tale?

A: I'll tackle the first two together; no. I don't know much about Kafka except for the personal details mired in awfulness that made up the introduction (sixteen page introduction, get over yourself Jason Baker; Who is Jason Baker? Exactly), but I think that Kafka's writing, despite its bizarre details, mirrors Kafka's view of life. I think that Kafka felt that things just end and we interpret those as being bad or good as it simply depends on who you are. I could successfully argue either way for Gregor's happiness or sadness upon his own death (probably will in the comments if somebody is so inclined). The death of the main character gets totally brushed over in the end, however, and we are left with a vision of the nubile sister stretching because life went on. I think Kafka is open to a happy ending if a story actually ends that way. He probably also thought that life stories rarely did. I guess that answered the third question as well, and to answer the fourth, I wished for a different ending, but I'm not certain what yet as I haven't given it any thought until this sentence.

Q: [Paraphrased] Is Kafka's consciousness of mortality the reason he makes his characters succumb to death rather than try to overcome it? Is death itself transcendent in Kafka's work?

A: No. Again, as above, I could argue that Gregor and some of the other characters wanted death. In the end of "The Metamorphosis," Gregor doesn't quite understand how he lived as a bug at all. He feels impressed that he dealt with what he did when he wanted to just give up so early in the story. The officer in "The Penal Colony" chooses death in his own world rather than giving in to a world that he doesn't want or understand. It is a failure of a death, but the choice itself was the triumph. No matter how horrible, the officer still dies and the reader can't help but feel a sense of reverence or respect. Death transcended here. Gregor dies and is forgotten about. Death not transcended. That last question seems hit or miss.

Q: How is Kafka funny? Is Kafka's sense of humor so peculiar that it is inaccessible?

A: Kafka is funny because the shit that happens is hilarious. Gregor turns into a big ass bug that stuffs itself under the sofa every time his sister comes in. He gets killed by an apple. How is that not funny? His clean writing style (at least in translation) allows for a deadpan delivery that I think is hilarious at times. I can understand that some people don't find deadpan humor funny, but I call these people "idiots." These are the same people who don't think "poop" is a funny word. It is.

There are three more questions, but I'm tired of answering them, so ask in the comments if you are curious.

I imagine that all of you heard that there was a shooting in Omaha today. Nine people have died thus far. I was not one of them. I will write a diatribe tomorrow about the guy that did this, so if you like my angry ranting, stay tuned (Katie). As of now, I feel for anybody involved; witnesses, victims, family members. I have a friend who I think works at Von Maur. I would try to call her, but she never answers anyway. She always calls back a month later asking me what I wanted as if I would remember. I'm not going to call her now because she wouldn't answer and then I would just worry. I think she was quitting last I talked to her anyway. If something bad did happen to her, I will find out anyway. I keep telling the little voice in the back of my head that we can't change anything now anyway, but it keeps talking. I hope she's okay.

Call a family member tomorrow and tell them you love them. Not because of the shooting, because you should be doing it anyway.

Short Reading/Listening, Work, No Poker

Reading: Finished Kafka, moved on to Sleeping with the Dictionary by Harryette Mullen. I'm going to be a cheater and plow through a couple of poetry books to feel better about myself.

Listening: Nothing. My music tastes have been skipping along with my mood the past week, so I don't think I've listened to any song more than twice. I've had a range from down tempo techno by Kruder and Dorfmeister to frantic early Beastie Boys punk rock.

Short post tonight because of work. This kid that I work with that sucks has now called in sick four days in a row. He pre-called for tomorrow. He said he was sick on Friday. On Saturday, he said it was too icy to get to work, even though he literally lives six blocks away and nobody else had a problem getting there. Yesterday his back hurt so he left after an hour, he missed today because of his back, and he's going to miss tomorrow. He has Juvenile Disc Disease, which I'm not going to research so I can continue to call him a pussy about, but I'll butt it up against Sciatica any day. Plus, he went to get a pain shot yesterday. I get no pain shot for my Sciatica, I just get to walk like I'm 107 and have osteoporosis. Point of the story: he's a whiny little bitch. I hope he gets fired. That way, I'll still be working six days a week, but he'll be jobless.

Real post minus bitching tomorrow. Probably minus bitching. Maybe minus bitching. There will probably be a small amount of bitching.

Funk, Poker

I've had a little rain cloud following me the past couple days that I simply can't shake. I'm trying to stay positive but I just can't right now. The worst part about it is that there are some parts of my life going really well right now. My friends are great. I've got Jeff, Matt, and Mike that I've been spending a lot of time with. The downside is that I've HAD to spend a lot of time with them because I can't seem to make a friend here, male or female. I've been trying, but I will go hang out with somebody one time and then they're either always busy or just won't answer my calls. Which is awesome because it sort of feels like getting kicked in the balls. Work is going really well. My manager is really happy with my progress so far. The down side is that I make no money and am not going to for nearly another year. I'm having a hard time stomaching that. The source of a lot of this is that I'm not at all where I thought I would be. I sort of feel like I'm getting a "C" in Life Class and I'm not used to it because I typically get "A's." I know I'll figure it out, but I wish I could do it tomorrow.

Not helping the above situation is the fact that today is quite likely the worst day of poker I've ever had. I've lost more money and I've lost more important matches, but today is just one kick in the nuts after another. I've lost 11 straight coinflips. I went 27 straight hands without connecting with a flop. That streak was busted when I had TT and raised. I got called, the flop came KJx and the other guy moved in. I then missed the next 16 flops. In those hands, I only had a face card twice (A7, J6). I'm -2 in HU matches today, losing my first one by flopping a flush and getting him to push in with his 2 pair. He rivered a boat and I was crippled to 1.3k chips. I couldn't come back. The next match I made a hero call with A4 vs 43 preflop. The flop came 33J and I was again crippled to around 2k chips. This is pretty much how the day has gone. I'm finishing my last HU match right now and then I'm DONE for the night. I think I'll lick my wounds tomorrow as well before resuming play on Tuesday. I need to get prepped for the big round one tourney on Saturday at 2pm. I have this Saturday off, which worked out nicely for me. At least all of this bullshit is happening today and not Saturday, because I'm winning a seat to the $500k SnG and I'd like to just do it in the first one. I'm guessing there will be 400 entrants with first paying $5,200. Second pays $3,400, so if I get my seat I'll be treating everybody to a drunken Saturday night. Good night.

Priorities, DG, Poker

I was about halfway finished with a nice big post yesterday when my cell phone rang. It was my buddy Matt. I don't know if I've explained this but I'll do it again: Matt was one of my best friends in high school and sort of a mentor to me. He introduced me to reading and taught me what good music is (Hint: N'Sync). We lost touch when he moved to Arizona for college but I randomly ran into him in downtown Lincoln before a Husker game. He told me he moved to Omaha. A few weeks ago I was bored and looked him up on MySpace. Turns out he lives like four blocks from me. Anyway, he is currently car-less and called me asking if I could pick him up from work. I asked why and he said "My aunt's about to die." Response: "Well if you're aunt is bouncing by just get a ride from her." I went and picked him up and we played pinball. I had intended it to be an early night, but some things just aren't meant to be.

While we were playing pinball, something interesting happened. We were at the Crescent Moon which is our regular bar. The pinball machine in the Crescent Moon is located right near the bathroom hallway. This staggering girl came up and started talking to us. She had a red wing tattoo across the tops of her boobies. She started slurring a soliloquy to us about how it was her last day at work and she will miss her job doing something with fitness because she lost thirty-one pounds and now she's got this sexy body (meh). Matt was currently manning the pinball machine so I got the duty of making sure she didn't fall over. As she was rambling and I was holding her up, she elaborated on how sexy she felt. She had felt so sexy a few weeks ago that she got her nipples pierced. Apparently I looked like I doubted her because she showed me. Her nipples were pierced. Then she staggered into the bathroom. When she got out, I was manning the pinball machine and Matt had to help her stand. Matt likes to talk and has a big vocabulary, but sometimes he doesn't think ahead far enough. An example of this is when he said "Let me help you stay erect." I dropped my head laughing because I already generally knew what was about to happen. DG (Drunk Girl) says "ERECT?!?" and grabs Matt's penis. Matt almost falls over trying to remove her claw from his manhood and I'm laughing so hard that I lose my pinball. DG then apologizes because she can't help herself because we're so hot, and she's got this sexy body and she likes penis. Her husband loves her new body as much as she does. Oh don't worry, we're swingers.

Matt's Response: "Oh, you're a swinger? Well, at least I know you don't have VD then."
DG: "No I don't have DV, you wanna try out this sexy ass (extends ass)?"
Matt: "Sorry, I'm gay."
DG: "No way, you're too hot to be gay."
Matt: "Yep, I'm a hot gay guy."
DG: "Are you gay (pointing at me)?"
Me: "Nope."
DG: "You wanna try this ass (still extended)?"
Me: "Nope."
DG: "Ok then, well it was nice to meet you two."
Matt: "We didn't meet."
DG: "(puzzled look) What?"
Matt: "You never told us your name."

That doesn't happen every day.

I won an entry into the first big qualifier ticket. I won my $214 tournament token in a $24+2 MTT with three seats guaranteed. Only 11 people signed up, so I had a great shot. It was tougher than I thought because everybody was playing super nit, so when the blinds got high it became a shovefest. Fortunately, I took the chiplead with 7 people left and absolutely punished the table. With 5 left I had 70 of the 110k chips in play and was still raising every unraised pot regardless of my cards. I was still the leader with 4 left, but doubled a guy into the lead. I still had a healthy stack though, and avoided trouble until I made an easy call with A9o vs QTo against the short stack. Neither of us paired and I had my seat. Aside from that I've stalled slightly on my HU matches. I went 2-1 the night that I won my seat, however, the loss was a $15 match and the wins were both $10, so after rake I only profited $3.25. Combined with my $26 for the MTT, my roll is down to around $125, so I'll be sticking with $10 HU matches for a short while.