Keeping it together

I won't lie, I was literally LMAO when I read fellow poker blogger Stump's tweet last night.

Is that all you got?

Though they may temporarily sting me, they are the lifeblood of my upward sloping equity curve. I am referring to the never-ending array of inferior local wannabe players like the young sweet-looking bitch sitting in the 4 seat last night at Caesars who, while inflicting some initial damage to my stack with a ridiculous play meant more to impress a nearby friend than anything else, eventually left the table broke.

Freezeout at the Aria

Last night, the actual measured temperature in the Aria poker room was lower than the outdoor sub-freezing Las Vegas Valley. 6 dealers and 23 players were treated for frostbite and hypothermia, while several elderly locals were medevaced onto a waiting helicopter ambulance. I was fortunate to survive the ordeal by huddling under table 18, and was found by an enterprising St. Bernard.

The engineering department is looking into the matter.

The gift that keeps on giving

Not having fully recovered from Sal's Xmas present, I have now developed a lingering dry hacking cough and am once again bed-ridden. The last time I measured my temperature, it was 101.8. The doctor has put me on Azithromycin and Phenergan. I am coughing non-stop and cannot get any decent semblance of sleep.

The next time I see a dealer sniffling and snorting, I will notify the shift supervisor. I'm not talking about the occasional sneeze or sniffle. I'm referring to dealers with bright red, runny noses - for everyone's sake take the day off. I understand that missing a day hurts the pocket, but I'll be fucked if I'm going to go through this shit again.

Chris the #@!%

We've all got our favorite dreaded dealer. You know, the one that consistently manages to fuck up a good session. Mine is Chris, a pimply-faced youngish-looking lad who, without fail, sends me packing every time he sits in the box.

Now despite his horrific track record, I always think that this time will be different and never bother to leave the table when he shows his ugly face. "Give the cunt a chance, this can't last forever," I say to myself.

So once again tonight, not 5 minutes after he starts dealing, the prick conjures up a queen-high flop which is enough to get my AQ felted by a set of 5's.

You would think I'd learn by now.