"Collars Pop, Panties Drop!"
08-19-2014
, 07:39 PM
You'll see! 
This made my brain hurt.. clarify please.
Thanks boss sauce, it'll get better!
This made my brain hurt.. clarify please.
Thanks boss sauce, it'll get better!
08-19-2014
, 08:24 PM
08-20-2014
, 01:00 AM
08-20-2014
, 07:35 AM
08-20-2014
, 07:52 AM
08-21-2014
, 04:00 AM
Quote:
It gets way better past the first two pages! Welcome aboard, thanks for the respect it means a lot! I definitely try to make it as visual as possible.
08-26-2014
, 02:46 AM
"Guts over fear"
An angry mans power will shut you up
Trip wires in this house will cut our love
Run out of excuses with every word
So here I am and I will not run
Guts over fear
The time is here
Guts over fear
I shall not tear
For all the times I let you push me around
And push me down
Guts over fear
Guts over fear
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2pYNk-Gxxk
It's so damn humid out. Why is it this humid out? I think to myself, as I blare my music whilst simultaneously zooming down the interstate clocking 80. The breeze coming in off the sunroof mixed with the crackling voice screaming the chorus puts me at peace with the night. It's humid, but there's a crisp refreshment in the air this evening, and the stars look amazing above. The positives in life. If you search, they'll appear.
"5 rumple-mints shots please", I say to the bartender who's previously turned me down once before. Don't even think for a minute it was a flaw in my game, she's one of those "I have a boyfriend and I'm actually loyal" types that are an endangered species, but still roaming around there, somewhere. It's nice to see, and I'm all for it, keep on good girl'in, good girl.
"Are these all for you?" She asks, in a giggling manner.
"No, I'm taking them to my friends, although, two are for me".
"Rough day", she spews
"Rough week, actually", I take one there, nod my farewell and walk off, not in the mood to banter with Bartender Girl. I'm exhausted and don't really have the patience to get bumped into while I shout out a minuscule conversation with a girl I'm not sleeping with later.
I've had a great last month, which included some of the best soul reads/calls/bets/plays of my career. I'm only getting sharper, studying alot more than usual and I feel it. BUT, as the world turns slowly, the cards turn quicker. For the first time in my career, I think, I've been stacked back to back first hands of my sessions. I open my first hand at the table when I'm dealt Q
K behind the button to 65 after 3 limpers call the button's 10 dollar straddle, button calls, one other calls.
Q
Q
5
First to act checks, I neatly place out 275, button calls.
7
I bet 480, buttons shoves for another 1100, I snap with about 2k behind, and he gladly flips over Q10 before the river flows-
10
Poker is easy. Reload.
I hit the podium to exchange some USD for the coveted circular black pieces of clay, and I see a familiar face. Wild Bill. Oh, Wild Bill. The only man I've ever witnessed play for two days straight because he's so stuck in the quick sand and still trying to sober up from the previous night, which usually blends into one long day for him. My night's aiming for a swift turn of events, I hope.
I tell the floor to put me on the new 2/5 once they start one and they inform me to pick up and go now because it's launching. I take the 2 seat to Wild Bill's left, with a healthy 2k+ stack at a table full of minnows in designer gear, and a few unfamiliar faces. Fish with resources, and long haired male who resembles a younger Randy Savage/Kenny Powers hybrid who buys in deep, and later asks me if A2345 makes a straight after spewing half his stack with 10 J to my set of 10's. "So the ace goes both ways for the straight, right?" I'm concerned with the "too good to be true" possibility of his question, but I hope it's sincere, and nonetheless I will treat him with the utmost respect unlike a few of the other stuck up pros who don't understand that without the bad players they have no living. Seriously, I'm the youngest player at this table and I can't understand how some can be so naive. If he's in fact this new to the game, he's here for entertainment, and the only way he's staying/coming back is if he enjoys himself. So take off you're hideous sunglasses and lighten up because you're horrible anyway. Anywho, between the two, the game is looking promising and I'm the phucking promise ring.
I return to our booth with the shots, and interrupt my groups contemplation of where to go next. To be honest, I'm not feeling it tonight. I'm sore from sitting in a chair for so long and I just want to relax, have a few drinks and not have to bother entertaining a female with the same short talk/ bar chatter, that nowadays seems nearly scripted. I catch a case of autopilot to which my friends prescribe the new age cure of "drink more", and I agree with the prescription as we finish our first round. I look up, and over, towards the bar to which I'm met with bartender girl's fierce stare. This is odd. My first thought was coincidence. My next? Rebound. As I just mentioned though, I'm not really in the mood for the social who/ what/ when/ wheres/ this evening, but I'm always up for a little prodding. I approach the bar, to order more drinks, sure, but more so to test the depths of the salty lake that is the bartender's intentions this evening. Test, taste, we'll see.
"Who are you, what do you know, what do you do and what do you think? I lead into a a spicy blonde with a strawberry tint chatting up bartender girl and possibly ordering a drink. Who cares.
"I'm (insert name I forgot)", we'll call her strawbaby. Yeah, strawbaby.
"She's taken, spurts sarcastic Bartender Girl while I decipher the body language of the target. Little does she know, the fake opener was just a test, and the implied target is actually her. She's failed, and more importantly she's available. I continuation bet.
"So are you, I smirk, or am I mistaken? (PIERCE THE EYES GENTS, THIS IS YOUR IN. FOCUS)
She flips her hair to the right, and slightly postures to the left.
"That's none of your business, she semi-bluffs.
"You know what, you're right", I shove.
"You're mistaken."
I tilt my head up and to the right, slightly, which to you body language noobs, makes you appear more mysterious/confident/attractive/intriguing.
"I am single.. now. You're mistaken".
"Hm" (LESS IS MORE GENTS, LESS IS MORE, HERE)
"HM? What's Hmm?"
"Can I have 4 more shots?" I smirk, knowing she was expecting something more. Or are you not a bartender anymore either?"
"Hmm" She's unsatisfied with the exchange, but prepares the shots. I'm stalling, she's off at 3, and I'll let her do the searching. After all, I'm just trying to enjoy my night tonight. I'm not in the mood for busy work, so she'll have to earn it if she wants it.
Wild Bill, Wild Bill, Wild Bill. You love raising your draws don't you? And I love re-raising them, I do, but damn it Bill, you make it too easy sometimes.
I isolate Wild Bill from LP after he open's UTG+2 to 65. I make it 210 to go, all others fold, he calls.
A 10 7
WB checks, I make it 380, he calls.
6
WB checks again, I make it 560, he shoves, I snap
J
WB gladly flips up KQ for the rivered straight, to which I show 89
"Damn it! You guys want to bump this up to 5/10 or what?" Wild Bill inquires, whilst pulling out a couple 1k chips with his tattooed arm that hilariously says, "Wild Bill" in Spanish. Yes Wild Bill, yes we do. I cash out +3800 later, after a slow start to the 13 hour session, and as the universe beholds, Wild Bill was still there when I left, trying to get unstuck like a moth in honey as if it were some type of folk tale titled "Wild Bill and the never ending grind".
"Do you need another round for last call?" our waitress offers as we finish up our drinks. We order a few more, and I look up to Bartender Girl who's once again, looking back. Coincidence? Not anymore.
Our drinks return, and our waitress hands me my tanq and tonic with a note that reads
"meet me at 3"
I look up and over, once again, this time to a inviting, yet seductive smile.
Cheers
-B
An angry mans power will shut you up
Trip wires in this house will cut our love
Run out of excuses with every word
So here I am and I will not run
Guts over fear
The time is here
Guts over fear
I shall not tear
For all the times I let you push me around
And push me down
Guts over fear
Guts over fear
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2pYNk-Gxxk
It's so damn humid out. Why is it this humid out? I think to myself, as I blare my music whilst simultaneously zooming down the interstate clocking 80. The breeze coming in off the sunroof mixed with the crackling voice screaming the chorus puts me at peace with the night. It's humid, but there's a crisp refreshment in the air this evening, and the stars look amazing above. The positives in life. If you search, they'll appear.
"5 rumple-mints shots please", I say to the bartender who's previously turned me down once before. Don't even think for a minute it was a flaw in my game, she's one of those "I have a boyfriend and I'm actually loyal" types that are an endangered species, but still roaming around there, somewhere. It's nice to see, and I'm all for it, keep on good girl'in, good girl.
"Are these all for you?" She asks, in a giggling manner.
"No, I'm taking them to my friends, although, two are for me".
"Rough day", she spews
"Rough week, actually", I take one there, nod my farewell and walk off, not in the mood to banter with Bartender Girl. I'm exhausted and don't really have the patience to get bumped into while I shout out a minuscule conversation with a girl I'm not sleeping with later.
I've had a great last month, which included some of the best soul reads/calls/bets/plays of my career. I'm only getting sharper, studying alot more than usual and I feel it. BUT, as the world turns slowly, the cards turn quicker. For the first time in my career, I think, I've been stacked back to back first hands of my sessions. I open my first hand at the table when I'm dealt Q
K behind the button to 65 after 3 limpers call the button's 10 dollar straddle, button calls, one other calls. Q
Q 5 First to act checks, I neatly place out 275, button calls.
7
I bet 480, buttons shoves for another 1100, I snap with about 2k behind, and he gladly flips over Q
10 before the river flows-10
Poker is easy. Reload.
I hit the podium to exchange some USD for the coveted circular black pieces of clay, and I see a familiar face. Wild Bill. Oh, Wild Bill. The only man I've ever witnessed play for two days straight because he's so stuck in the quick sand and still trying to sober up from the previous night, which usually blends into one long day for him. My night's aiming for a swift turn of events, I hope.
I tell the floor to put me on the new 2/5 once they start one and they inform me to pick up and go now because it's launching. I take the 2 seat to Wild Bill's left, with a healthy 2k+ stack at a table full of minnows in designer gear, and a few unfamiliar faces. Fish with resources, and long haired male who resembles a younger Randy Savage/Kenny Powers hybrid who buys in deep, and later asks me if A2345 makes a straight after spewing half his stack with 10 J to my set of 10's. "So the ace goes both ways for the straight, right?" I'm concerned with the "too good to be true" possibility of his question, but I hope it's sincere, and nonetheless I will treat him with the utmost respect unlike a few of the other stuck up pros who don't understand that without the bad players they have no living. Seriously, I'm the youngest player at this table and I can't understand how some can be so naive. If he's in fact this new to the game, he's here for entertainment, and the only way he's staying/coming back is if he enjoys himself. So take off you're hideous sunglasses and lighten up because you're horrible anyway. Anywho, between the two, the game is looking promising and I'm the phucking promise ring.
I return to our booth with the shots, and interrupt my groups contemplation of where to go next. To be honest, I'm not feeling it tonight. I'm sore from sitting in a chair for so long and I just want to relax, have a few drinks and not have to bother entertaining a female with the same short talk/ bar chatter, that nowadays seems nearly scripted. I catch a case of autopilot to which my friends prescribe the new age cure of "drink more", and I agree with the prescription as we finish our first round. I look up, and over, towards the bar to which I'm met with bartender girl's fierce stare. This is odd. My first thought was coincidence. My next? Rebound. As I just mentioned though, I'm not really in the mood for the social who/ what/ when/ wheres/ this evening, but I'm always up for a little prodding. I approach the bar, to order more drinks, sure, but more so to test the depths of the salty lake that is the bartender's intentions this evening. Test, taste, we'll see.
"Who are you, what do you know, what do you do and what do you think? I lead into a a spicy blonde with a strawberry tint chatting up bartender girl and possibly ordering a drink. Who cares.
"I'm (insert name I forgot)", we'll call her strawbaby. Yeah, strawbaby.
"She's taken, spurts sarcastic Bartender Girl while I decipher the body language of the target. Little does she know, the fake opener was just a test, and the implied target is actually her. She's failed, and more importantly she's available. I continuation bet.
"So are you, I smirk, or am I mistaken? (PIERCE THE EYES GENTS, THIS IS YOUR IN. FOCUS)
She flips her hair to the right, and slightly postures to the left.
"That's none of your business, she semi-bluffs.
"You know what, you're right", I shove.
"You're mistaken."
I tilt my head up and to the right, slightly, which to you body language noobs, makes you appear more mysterious/confident/attractive/intriguing.
"I am single.. now. You're mistaken".
"Hm" (LESS IS MORE GENTS, LESS IS MORE, HERE)
"HM? What's Hmm?"
"Can I have 4 more shots?" I smirk, knowing she was expecting something more. Or are you not a bartender anymore either?"
"Hmm" She's unsatisfied with the exchange, but prepares the shots. I'm stalling, she's off at 3, and I'll let her do the searching. After all, I'm just trying to enjoy my night tonight. I'm not in the mood for busy work, so she'll have to earn it if she wants it.
Wild Bill, Wild Bill, Wild Bill. You love raising your draws don't you? And I love re-raising them, I do, but damn it Bill, you make it too easy sometimes.
I isolate Wild Bill from LP after he open's UTG+2 to 65. I make it 210 to go, all others fold, he calls.
A
10 7WB checks, I make it 380, he calls.
6
WB checks again, I make it 560, he shoves, I snap
J
WB gladly flips up KQ for the rivered straight, to which I show 8
9"Damn it! You guys want to bump this up to 5/10 or what?" Wild Bill inquires, whilst pulling out a couple 1k chips with his tattooed arm that hilariously says, "Wild Bill" in Spanish. Yes Wild Bill, yes we do. I cash out +3800 later, after a slow start to the 13 hour session, and as the universe beholds, Wild Bill was still there when I left, trying to get unstuck like a moth in honey as if it were some type of folk tale titled "Wild Bill and the never ending grind".
"Do you need another round for last call?" our waitress offers as we finish up our drinks. We order a few more, and I look up to Bartender Girl who's once again, looking back. Coincidence? Not anymore.
Our drinks return, and our waitress hands me my tanq and tonic with a note that reads
"meet me at 3"
I look up and over, once again, this time to a inviting, yet seductive smile.
Cheers
-B
Last edited by bobbycoconuts; 08-26-2014 at 02:59 AM.
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