Stick To Championhoods and Take The Train Tracks

Commerce, USA

"Were you waiting for the bus today?"

I have some work to do on that fringe network I'm on. I literally have to push a few buttons. That seems too hard for me.

I feel spoiled, shallow, and unappreciative. I worked sixteen hour days cleaning fish guts off of a boat and cutting my hands up working on fishing nets, and sometimes all the 'cook' would have ready to eat was some mashed potatoes. Tonight I went to Denny's, ate a huge meal, and talked to a woman who was working a death shift, when she was understaffed. Nobody's getting paid their worth anymore. Too many people, not enough resources, not enough cash, sad.

It sucks when you bust a tournament. All the posters of past champions that were putting a smile on your face now seem mocking. The whole poker room seems hallow, a meeting place for retarded people to flip coins together and act masculine by proclaiming the sanity of their coin calling technique. And you can't beat them.

Just walk out slow in your hoodie, dazed, where am I?

I started the day playing really well. I squeezed over and over without the hand and just got people to fold. I've really worked hard since I've gotten sober to solidify the reasons I do everything in my game, hoping to justify how reckless I'd played for years. What I found was I was reckless not because I was attempting all those things, but because I implemented them far too roughly. Now that I know why one should squeeze and with what hands and with what frequency I find I can do it a stupid amount more than most regs.

I fourbet twice with air and was right both times. I managed to get some value from my hands. I doubled my chips without a showdown really in the first hour or two.

I had a hand come up where a real loose cannon opened from early position. I reraised small from the button with 10-8 suited. I didn't expect him to fold that often but I could induce more folds/more explosions having been the 3 bettor preflop. Mostly I wanted him isolated with me in position.

He asked how many chips I had. He'd made it 4.7k and I'd made it 10.2k. He had 120 and I had him covered. He looked pissed off. I'd seen him spaz 4bet earlier. He threw in a 4bet of 25k more. I really didn't want to 5bet but my gut feeling was he did not want action at all. I felt like he was angry. I figured that meant I could rule in most of his opening range, which was pretty much every ace. He opens A-2o there, and I was pretty sure he was pissed off 4betting all that. With all the BS suited connectors and what have you injected into his range I thought it was...hardy har har....an obvious 5bet with 10-high.

So I did. He said "call" really quickly and I was confused, I was so sure he didn't want action, he was pissed at me. Well turns out he really didn't want action (he explained this later)...with AK. Makes sense.

I stayed quiet and watched the board run out bad for me. Then the guy started berating me, talking about how he hated to see a play that stupid, wasting three days of play, yada yada. All the young guys at the table spoke up for me while I was counting out his chips. Then some other people got in on talking shit about me. I said, "yeah whisper about me" just kind of joking, annoyed, seemed rude. I know I'm kind of a psycho but if you think I'm bad just smile and take my money. I was saying "nice hand" and being nice to everyone.

The guy kept going as I counted out his money about how bad I was. It was hard counting out someone else's money while hearing about how stupid I was to give it to him. Literally I was losing count. I finally just had it and said, "eat my shit." The younger guys laughed. I didn't hear much from the guy after that. I wasn't very happy with myself. I'm trying to change my whole approach to life, and removing my hatred for all living things was numero uno on the list. I find I do enjoy poker a lot more on my meds, that help me not see ghosts and hear voices, but sometimes I can't help it. People really rub me the wrong way.

Like at this one live event recently I had a name pro who shall remain nameless essentially asserting I was too stupid to count a stack all day. I'd already gone off on John Phan, and well...I was a real prick, I made up things to go off on him more, and went off on him again for calling me an angle shooter. Call me an angle shooter, I fucking dare you, I will make your day at the table a living hell. I will be a prick, because you do not call a real professional a cheater. The only reason I didn't go off on big hot shit online celebrity is I can handle "you're stupid" since I hear that pretty much every day from someone, just not "you're a cheater", but when you keep going after I lose 80-20's for chip leads in the money and shit, and I'm supposed to act civil because I get one outted for my FTOPs jersey and you run 33 through AA...and I still stay quiet because it's not worth it to me...then you go talk shit behind my back about what a prick I am...when I let you go off all day and just laughed it off...who the fuck do these people think they are? Like WOW HOLY SHIT YOU ARE GOOD/HAVE RUN GOOD AT A CARD GAME, YOU NOW HAVE ACQUIRED THE CURRENCY OF A GOOD LAWYER, WHO GIVES A FUCK. Seriously, you, me, none of us are shit. We play cards for a living. We don't do anything for anyone, and you want to act like you're better than me?

Rawr! Me angry!

Going to bed, I'll finish up my thoughts later