GG LG

I'm a donk. Forgot the power chord to my desktop.

Will run to a store tomorrow and grab one.

I may do another 5 hour cash game session here soon.

The People's Bankroll:

Cash: $990.00 (-$210.00)

Tournaments: $580.00 (-$730.00)

My goal is to win enough at cash games over next 3 days to have both bankrolls back to even.

Bad news...

I sat down at $1/$2 around 11pm and withing the first orbit I was dealt KK against a $120 stack's $15 open.

I was in hj and flop came 2s 3s 4s and he shipped all in. I call.

Villain had AsQh and binked a spade.

Since my head was hurting and staring at computer or cell phone screens makes it hurt more...I didn't chart any more hands.

Good news...

I was able to prison rape a villain for his $180 stack when I raised $15 QQ and flop came J high, then he called down on all 3 streets. I obv overbet shove river.

I finished $30 up before head hurt too much and I had to quit.

Full 8 hour cash session guaranteed tomorrow.

Sleep now...just took two excedrin pms.

You are a slight dog to AQ on the flop. If you are going to prison rape anyone save it of Dane. He is all about being a victim.

I will pass on the $6 offer. Say hello to grandma for me! Just a heads up there is a staking rails forum so there is no need to constantly bump your thread with limped pot hand histories. GL.

Score one for the people....

Cashing out up $565.00 after a four hour 2/5 session.

Going to run to Office Depot to buy that chord, then play four hours of 1/2 and enjoy the Monday night game.

The People's Bankroll:

Cash: $1585.00 (+385.00)

Tournaments: $580.00 (-$730.00)

Good evening my friends,

I had to run to a Radio Shack, Wal-Mart, Target, and finally an Office Depot in order to find a power chord to set up my old desktop computer+monitor here in Cincinnati.

After parting with $16.95 USD, I finally have what I need to type more detailed reports for you all.

Some might wonder, why not just buy a laptop or iPad?

Well, when you're used to typing on one keyboard for so long, you fall in love with it and the thoughts of hammering my fingertips on any plastic letters just don't seem right.

So, I'll continue to hammer on this keyboard for you all and as long as I do I'll try my best to make it entertaining.

First things first, lets get to the two $365.00 tournaments I've played in.

It's my belief that the 2.5x-3x raise sizing standard shouldn't come into play until level 4 or level 5 of these tournaments when you're starting with a 10k stack and the blinds are 30 minutes.

I believe in the first 4 levels of these tournaments we should be doing 4x or 5x raise sizes, then potting flop, potting turn, and potting river or overbet shipping river if we are in the hand against a call station villain.

These tournaments are littered with low level $1/$2 NLHE players and my favorite betting line for $1/$2 NLHE is a $15 open, pot flop, pot turn, and overbet ship river line and I can often double through unsophisticated villains when they have top pair/good kick or top pair/good kick or best kick and I have an overpair. These unsophisticated villains will let you know they have two pair or better by spazz check/raising. Then you can fold your overpair or top pair/top kick easily.

So, when early in these tournaments and blinds are 25/50, I'm going to be raising to 250, if one caller, then 500 on flop, then 1500 on turn, and on river I'll be betting 3k- an overbet ship in all value hands.

Obviously, ANY sign of aggression from villain in hand like a lead out or c/r will mean we call off the dogs and play the hand more carefully.

I think the biggest weakness from villains in these smaller buy ins is that they call too light OOP and THEY CANT FOLD PAINT pre-flop and THEY CAN'T FOLD TOP PAIR or ANY PAIR WHEN THEIR ISN'T AN A OR K ON THE FLOP and these villains should be "PRISON RAPED" accordingly.

A "Prison Rape" is when you double through an opponent for 100+ bbs when all they have is a pair.

There is plenty of opportunity for that in these tourneys.

I think it's important not to be afraid to felt early because it's really about building your chip stack ASAP so you have enough chips to survive the coin flip situations you will surely be in by the time you get to the later levels.

I also think most of the villains at the table will not notice that you bet only 1/2 or 2/3 of the pot when you whiff the flop. Obviously as the levels go on, the more quality players there are at the table, and therefore, your lines will need to be adjusted.

But, in the early levels, omg... bum hunt and punish the weak/passive call station donks. Do not be upset if you value own yourself. It's going to happen sometimes.

As per my earlier posts....

I am learning ship "All In" against active/light openers when I have a 15x-25bb stack quite easily when I have a Kxs Ax, small pp type hand. It took me a while to realize that shipping all in over a light openers raise with A9 and him calling with an AQ isn't a mistake... it's just running into the top of his range because he's been opening with 89s+, Ax, Kxs, any pp broadways, etc....

This was hard for me before because in the cash games it's just so easy to wait for the donks to hang themselves, but in tournaments, these donks who are huge losers at cash games have to be battled and you have to play against their range/not be results oriented if you catch them at the top of their range.

These donks are raising, 3betting, and 4betting any AX because they know even if you have KK, they are still running 30% against you. I now understand the tourney donk mindset and will be adjusting my strategy accordingly.

I am no longer afraid to make a mistake.

In fact, I can't wait to 4bet ship an Ax rag all in one time against a tourney donk, catch him at the top of his range with KK, and felt his ass.

Hopefully, that will happen this Wednesday when I play the $580 entry.

Second things second,

The $1/$2 NLHE cash games at Horseshoe casinos are terrible. They're a $50-$200 buy in, usually 6-7 handed, and there's almost always at least two $50-$100 stacks at the table. The floor's mindset is lets open up as many $1/$2 games as possible, fill them at the start, then let them all die out slow. In order to confirm this I've walked the room many times and seen at least 6 games open and all of them have only 5-8 players.

The floor refuses to shut down games in order to keep all the $1/$2 tables full.

The $1/$2 games here are simply a cash grab and ran like **** unless it's prime time (Friday+Saturday night.)

In addition to the tables always being short, when they are short...

Average pot is like $10-$20.

Now that I've got the only negative out of the way, let me tell you what is good about the Horseshoe Cincinnati poker room.

The casino is smoke free, the poker room is well lit/beautiful, and usually has a lot of games running. The wait staff is well organized, friendly, and most of the females on the staff are quite attractive.

The $2/$5 game always has a must move, so the main games are never short handed.

You get a $1 a hour on comps and right across from the poker room there this Bobby's Burger place and the burgers, french fries, and milkshakes are the bomb+reasonably priced.

If your grind is $2/$5 plus, you're going to love this casino/poker room.

Anyway, at this time I'd like to thank you all for coming along on the ride.

There's plenty of proven horses in this forum you could put your money behind, but you chose a bull who hopes to run wild instead and trust that I am out here in Cincinnati trying my best for you all.

I won another $185.00 at $1/$2 tonight and that puts us up $570.00 at the cash games.

The People's Bankroll:

Cash: $1770.00 (+570.00)

Tournaments: $580.00 (-$730.00)

I know I said the only days I'd be playing cash games for you all was on the 19th, 20th, and 28th.

and...

I know I said nothing about make-up as far as cash games goes and know that I am not obligated to make up any funds if I were to lose.

But, I felt I didn't deserve to play at all on my own roll until at least got "The People's Bankroll" back to even on the cash game front.

I hope I didn't offend any investors playing the $2/$5 game, if I were to have lost and there were complaints, I'd have refunded your money.

I am going to play more $2/$5 on "The People's Bankroll" soon, so if you are having second thoughts, please im me ASAP and I'll refund you whatever is your % of the package as it stands right now.

It's my goal to have as impeccable of a reputation in the staking community as I do in my real life when it comes to being a man of my word.

Yes, I am the swine who will refuse to follow some of your stupid rules, regulations, traditions, laws, corporate guidelines, or employee handbooks.

But, I am not the swine who will rat someone out, refuse to pay his debts, try to steal good people's money, or turn his back on a friend when the going gets tough.

I consider all of those who invest in me and who have read my threads to be my friends and so I'd like to share a scene from a movie that's special to me tonight with you all.

This is a speech Al Pacino gives defending a youth (Charles) who saw some of his classmates (Harry, Jimmy, Trent, George) set up a prank on the Universities principal, but the youth (Charles) has refused to testify or admit that he knows who set up the prank.

The other youth (George) on the stage was part of the group that set up the prank, but since his Father gives a lot of $$$ to the school, he's not going to be expelled or even disciplined.

The youth Al Pacino is defending, Charles is going to be expelled, tho...

This scene touched me at a young age as I was often involved in a lot of mischief and it made me never want to be known as a rat or a snitch when it came to meaningless pranks, trouble making, or crimes that may be illegal, but NOT immoral.

Even tho Charles doesn't like Harry, Jimmy, Trent, and George, he refuses to sell them out. The principal on the stage even offered Charles a full scholarship to rat them out he wanted to bust the kids so bad.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9Y_flM4ZNw

I thought about this scene a lot when I was holed up in Isabella County Jail and the police wanted me to rat on the people who gave me drugs, but I refused.

Ultimately, me refusing to be a snitch was what lead to me meeting a man by the name of Francisco Maldonado.

So, tonight....

I also bring you "The Legend Of Paco."

The Legend of Paco Volume I

The year was 2003, the location was Isabella County jail, and the most humiliating experience of my life occurred when the corrections officer who was responsible for checking prisoners into general population ordered me to strip down naked in front of him.

I still remember the righteous pig screaming, "Lets go mother****er. You think I like this? Your boxers to.. Ok! Now turn around, spread your ass, bend over, and give me two good coughs."

It still feels like worms are coming out of my ears and hundreds of small spiders are crawling all over my body every time I think about it.

It was worse than surfing some jailbait photos, looking for a girl that resembles your next door neighbor's daughter that just went to college, clicking a link, and next thing you know, you're looking at some underdeveloped teen in a bikini that's much too tight for her parents to have taken the picture.

Eww. Wtf.

Seriously, ****ing gross man.

I feel so dirty, disgusted, and ashamed with myself when that happens.

I would say having to strip stark naked, bend over, and spread your ass cheeks wide as the gap in a Michael Strahan's teeth for another man is even worse, though. I knew right after I had to do that I was never going to go back to jail again.

I had hit rock bottom and learned my lesson.

There was no where to go but up from there.

I even thought about writing D.A.R.E...(Drug Abuse Resistance Education)...and letting them know that they got it all wrong trying to spread lies and misinformation about drugs such as marijuana, lsd, mushrooms, mdma, etc...

Why lie to the kids?

What's wrong with the truth?

You do drugs or sell drugs, you severely increase the chances of having to spread your ass for another man.

Now that's something that will grip the kids with fear...all that other $hit about brain damage or drug addiction they're just going to tune out.

Anyway, after I was done proving I had no contraband stuck up my *******, the officer gave me a pair of blue pants, a blue t-shirt, and a gray plastic tub that was to be used to keep all my belongings. I was then escorted to my jail pod where there was a private shower, bathroom, and one row of six red steel bunk beds. So, this pod was made to house twelve prisoners. When I walked in, it was late. So, most were sleeping.

As I approached the bunk bed that was going to be mine a heavy set black man with a beard yelled, "What ya in fo, criminal?"

I replied, "Drugs."

Then I proceeded to slide my gray plastic tub underneath the lower bunk where I'd be sleeping and as I looked up I saw a menacing looking Mexican man with his long black hair drooped down leaning over the top of the bunk staring at me.

It was hard to determine what was more intense. His mustache, his squinted eyed stare, or the uncomfortable silence as I was waiting for my bunk mate to introduce himself.

After a few moments I decided I should just break the ice, so I said, "What's up?"

I received nothing in return but a continuation of the mean mugging.

So, I went ahead with setting up my mattress, pillow, and blanket before I popped the next question...

"Do you speak English?"

This only made the man look more upset, so I said the only thing I remembered from my Trenton High School Spanish class...

"Me no habla espanol."

Which meant, "I don't speak Spanish."

The angry man quickly sat up, hopped off the top of the bunk, approached me and stared deep into my eyes.

We were face to face, chest to chest, and I thought I was about to get into a fistfight on the first night I was transferred to general population.

Then the man smiled, took the T.V. remote that he held in his hand, pointed it at my mouth and said, "Power!"

All the prisoners in the pod that had woke up to see the confrontation started laughing.

"What?" I replied.

"Power!" He yelled this time as he continued to point the remote control at my mouth.

"Power! Power! Power!" He kept yelling.

More and more laughter broke out, until a mile wide grin spread across the Mexican's face as he hopped up back up into his bed.

I mumbled, "What the hell was that," under my breath as I sat down on the bed I just prepared to collect my thoughts.

Shortly after, the same black guy who asked why I was in jail walked over and said, "When Paco do that, that means he wants you to shut the **** up so he can sleep. My man doesn't talk much English. But, he knows that red button on the remote says power and when he presses it he knows it makes the T.V. go off. So, he figure pointing it at your mouth and clicking the button gonna do the same. Oh, and by the way, my name is Craig man. What's yours?"

"Justin," I replied and then I asked, "Is there any way to get on his good side?"

"Sure is, Paco like lemonade. But no one give him none. So, when you order from the commissary, get some of that lemonade and he be all coming up to you saying.. 'Lemon'..'Lemon'..'Lemon'... that means he want lemonade. My man is poor, don't no one send him no money, he gets no letters, no nothing. So, he always in a bad mood. It's best to just let him be."

"Why doesn't anyone hook him up with some lemonade?" I inquired.

"You'll see." Said Craig as he walked back over to his bed.

Then after a few hours of tossing and turning and staring up at all the writing on the bottom of the bunk above me I fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I would learn Paco's real name....

The Legend Of Paco Volume II

"Francisco Maldonado," was the name first shouted into my jail pod after the short stocky guard opened the door and stood in front of our bunk beds holding a clipboard.

To his left was our private shower, bathroom, and drinking fountain. To his right was our television, dinner table, and an unbreakable 2 foot by 12 foot glass window that looked out into the jail hallway. As the pig stood scanning the pod to make sure no prisoners were wondering, you could tell he was beginning to get frustrated by the lack of response.

That's when he screamed, "Common. I ain't got all damn day! Get your sorry ass up Paco or I'll feed you to the motherfukking worms!"

Finally, I heard some movement in the bunk above me that was followed by a one word response, "Present!"

The next names the guard shouted were, "Craig Henderson, Quincey Jones, Scott Thigpen, Brian Griggs, Joshua James," and after six others that I can't really remember....

The officer shouted my own, "Justin Vitale."

To which, I responded, "Present."

After that, the officer looked down at me and said, "You can go on back to sleep now son, breakfast ain't going to be here for another two hours, enjoy your stay in Isabella County jail."

As the officer turned his back and started to walk away, Paco leaned his head over the top of the bunk again. This time he had a big grin on his face and playfully started to laugh, "EEEE HEEEE," "EEEE HEEEE," and finished with, "Stupido."

I rolled my eyes, shook my head, and got up to use the bathroom. When I finished taking my morning $hit, a fat old man with short gray hair and a mustache that needed trimming was sitting at the table reading the bible. As I was lurching across the floor back to my bed he said, "Good Morning, I'm Josh, but you can call me J.J."

"Good morning. I'm Justin." I replied.

"So, what kind of drugs are you in here for?" J.J. asked.

"Crack," I joked.

But, this was obviously no joke to the man named Scott who rose from his bed like "The Undertaker" or "Kane" used to sit up from the mat in a WWE match when you thought he was knocked out cold.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TBWcLSD3kM

Scott had long brown hair, a fine assortment of tattoos, and when he took a seat next to me at the table and smiled, I could see he had rotted out teeth. Then he asked me, "Do you like crack?"

As I was about to answer, another prisoner rose from his bunk bed in much the same fashion, and said, "I love crack."

After that, another.

It seemed I had set off some sort of chain reaction within the pod and before I could tell these four guys I was joking, they were all at the table talking about crack, wanting me to chime in with some stories of my own. I was right smack dab in the middle of some sort of crack convention. Sadly, I wasn't going to be able to contribute.

They all seemed really let down that I was in for possession with intent to distribute a methamphetamine commonly known as "Ecstasy." But, before I left the table, they explained that I haven't lived until I tried crack. Then went on trying to sell me on the features and benefits of crack use. I listened intently more for the comedic value of the conversation, rather than having any real thoughts of ever trying the drug.

However, I didn't want to be rude, so before I left to go back to my bunk I said, "Seems like there's a lot of misinformation about crack on the streets. The drug doesn't seem that bad to me. When I get out of here it sounds like something I'm going to have to get myself into."

"That a boy, home skillet!" Said Scott as he slapped me on the back. "Go on now and get you some rest, we'll wake you up when it's chow time."

As I drifted back off to sleep, all I could hear was four grown men rehashing stories about crack use like four washed up high school athletes would about their football games. I thought about writing Bruce Springsteen to see if he'd consider adding another verse to "Glory Days" to pay tribute to all of those out there who've never been able to slay the dragon. But, like many ideas I've had in the past, this one never came to fruition.

Anyway, we get to breakfast time and this would be where I learn what everyone is in jail for.....

Craig was in his thirties and had been sentenced to jail for weapons charges. He told me that where he was from, "You'd rather be caught with one, than without one," and as I learned more and more about the impoverished sectors of Detroit from him I understood what he was saying.

Scott, a.k.a "Home Skillet" was an obvious biker guy in his forties that got himself caught up using crack. When he was arrested, he was initially booked on a drunk driving charge. However, Scott would go on to tell the police officers that were transporting him to the station that he had just swallowed a gram of crack cocaine. Luckily, the officers took him serious, sped him to the hospital, and thanks to the low quality of the crack cocaine Scott bought, his heart didn't explode.

Scott ended up taking a simple possession of cocaine plea bargain that allowed him to only have to do one year in jail. If he had been charged with simple possession of crack cocaine, Scott may have had to do five. Craig told me this is because white lawmakers specifically design the cocaine laws to be easier than the crack laws because they don't want young white males who make a mistake at college to be in jail for as long as young black males who make a mistake in the hood.

Quincey was pale, small in stature, soft spoken, and you could tell by his inability to look anyone in the eye that he was also insecure. One might wonder, how could this kid be guilty of rape? Well, in Michigan, if you're 18 and have sex with a fifteen year old, that's 3rd degree statutory rape. Which Quincey was convicted of and sentenced to jail.

To this day, I believe that was a wrongful conviction. Not because Quincey didn't violate the law, but because Quincey loved the girl and from the letters she wrote him that he showed me, she loved him as well. Now Quincey has to register as a sex offender everywhere he goes for the rest of his life. Just because kids were being kids.

J.J. was a fat jolly old drunk with a bit of a temper who was in for drunk driving. You could tell by his earlier conversation with the crackheads he had a penchant for using drugs as well. The guy was obviously a lifelong substance abuser who had never gotten any help that worked for him.

Brian was a tall, white, gumpy, middle aged man with bugged out eyes that wore saucer glasses. It was no wonder that everyone called him "Beetle." Brian would often talk about all the money he made, drugs he sold, rules of the drug trade, and how he hated snitches. But, lots of his stories just didn't add up and he seemed like more of a drug abuser than dealer. Still, he was in on possession with intent to distribute marijuana charges, how much marijuana he sold...we'll never know.

Finally, we got to talking about Paco. Who was the only person who would never join us at the table for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Paco had chose to eat his food alone on his bunk since he was placed in general population two weeks ago, but was never welcomed to the table due to the charges he had pending against him. Word was that Paco had molested a judge's daughter as well as assaulted+battered the judge when he came home and saw what was going on.

On top of all that, Paco had assaulted+battered the only Spanish speaking public attorney in the county when he tried to convince Paco to plea guilty in exchange for a more lenient sentence. When I asked, "Are you guys sure he did it?"

Everyone laughed and Craig said, "Look at him. He know he guilty. He don't try to talk to none of us, no nothing. Man, he know he going to jail for a long time. Ain't no one write him letters. He can't speak no English. Guarantee he was mowing a lawn or some $hit and he do what the police say he do. Fukk, ain't none of us innocent in here. Are you?"

"No," I replied as I laughed, "Guilty as charged."

Still, I knew there was something more to this story.

When Paco stared deep into my eyes the night before, it wasn't a stare filled with anger, hate, rage, or disgust. I had learned what that stare looked like a long time ago from my Mother.

No, this stare was different....

It was empty, but full of an infinite sadness all at the same time.

I decided to write my Grandmother Marge and asked her to overnight mail me a book that would help me teach Paco how to read and write English.

I needed to find out for myself if what they said about Paco was true.

The Legend Of Paco Volume III

As the days passed while I waited for my Grandmother to send a book that would help Paco learn to read and write English, I noticed the jail pod was segregated into a few distinct groups.

First, there was the group of black guys who would play Spades every day. They were loud, obnoxious, but also fun and seemed to have control of the television. Craig was definitely the leader of this group and if anyone else in the pod was to watch what they wanted on TV, they'd have to ask Craig for permission to use the remote control first.

Second, there was the group of crackheads that had become bible thumpers. They were often quiet, more reserved, and quite a bore to converse with. When they weren't rehashing stories about their youth or drug use, they were sure to be talking about Jesus and made an effort to ask everyone in the pod if they'd been saved. Most of these guys liked to play checkers or monopoly amongst themselves, but every now and then Scott would decide to play Craig in a game of chess.

Those matches would often end with Craig shouting, "Now I am going to do what I've loved to do my whole life, there's nothing like taking a white man's bitch, give me your queen again you dumb motherfukker."

This would send Scott into a violent rage, then he'd smack the remaining pieces off the board and refuse to finish the game. As the pieces scattered all over the floor, the pod would erupt with vast amounts of laughter. Paco's laugh was annoying, but the most animated. Therefore, it was my favorite.

"EEEE HEEEE"..."EEEE HEEE"...."STUPIDO," he would shout until Craig or Scott told him to shut the fukk up.

The third group, the one I was a part of, wasn't really a group at all. We were just guys that decided to keep to ourselves. We passed the time by reading books, writing letters, making collect calls on the jail phone to friends+family, and watching TV when Craig decided to relinquish control of the television.

One thing I noticed about Paco was that he was actually the best at getting the remote control from Craig. For some reason, he was able to playfully hop around the table like an ape shouting, "OHHH OHH AHH AHH"..."MONKEY"...."MONKEY"....."OHHH OHHH AHH AHH"..."MONKEY MONKEY...," until Craig would say, "Man. Paco. Shut the **** up with that monkey **** before you go on and get ya ass beat. Here, take the control motherfukker and go watch TV."

After this, Paco would take the remote control to whoever he thought looked the most dejected in the jail pod and say one word, "Lemon." This meant that Paco was willing to give up control of the remote for a glass of Lemonade. As soon as Paco found a willing participant for the trade, he'd run over to his gray plastic tub and pull out his old Kool-Aid container which was what prisoners used for their cups.

http://c4.soap.com/images/products/p...ft-285b_2z.jpg

What you would do is purchase the ready made Kool-Aid, then dump the powder into a plastic bag, and that would leave you with an empty Kool-Aid container with the screw on cap. Then, when you wanted a glass of Kool-Aid, you would dump in a small amount of the powder, fill the container with water from the drinking fountain, screw on the cap, and shake the container for ten to twenty seconds. After that, you'd remove the cap and you'd have yourself a glass of Kool-Aid.

Paco's favorite flavor was obviously Lemonade.

It would often be Quincey that Paco gave the remote control to because Quincey was too shy and insecure to ask anyone for anything. Therefore, any time Quincey had food left over, he would always give it to Paco. Although they couldn't communicate, it seemed these two had a mutual respect and looked out for one another. Craig said that was because they were both child molesters and even though I saw the pain that comment caused Quincey, he was too afraid to ever say a word.

The strangest thing about Paco's obsession with lemonade was that he always chose to drink it alone, in isolation, on the top of his bunk bed facing the wall. In fact, Paco would look over his right shoulder repeatedly to make sure no one was near him. Then, he would sit there for what felt like an eternity. cherishing every sip of the lemonade like each one was taking him back to the place where he was most happy and free.

Craig would always say something like, "Look at his lawn mowin ass drinking that lemonade. I bet his momma used to dress him real nice, pack his lunch, and give him some that Country Time. Ain't that right Paco?"

This would be followed by a hellacious roar of laughter from the black guys and it was no wonder why they tolerated Paco's racist monkey act. Turn about was definitely fair play and they enjoyed poking fun at the mysterious Mexican who was a Rubik's Cube that I was determined to solve.

Finally, after a week, the book I asked my Grandmother to send as well as two letters from her arrived. The first, was obviously addressed to me. The second, was addressed to Francisco Maldonado and this marked the first time that Paco's name was ever called to receive a letter. He looked to be in shock as he sped to the dinner table to see who had reached out to him.

Inside was a letter from my Grandmother written in Spanish that read the following...

"Dear Paco,

I have sent you a book so you can teach my grandson how to speak Spanish and he can teach you how to speak English. I hope you're all doing as well as you can be and I also hope that you're all getting enough food. I have put $100.00 in Justin's commissary account and if you think he needs more please write me at the address below. I taught him to share, so I have no doubt he'll make sure everybody has enough food to eat! My Justin is a good person Paco and I am counting on you to look out for him. Please make sure to remind him to write his Grandma often and if you need someone to write, I have spaces in my heart for everyone, so you can write me to Paco!!!

With love,
- Marge"

As Paco crumpled to the floor crying and clutching the letter tightly it was clear that the first real correspondence he had with a human being in some time had opened a floodgate of emotion that he had held trapped deep inside his heart for much too long.

We all stared in disbelief at the grown man lying face down on the floor crying in front of us...

The Legend Of Paco Volume IV

Over the next few days Paco studied the Spanish to English translation book my Grandmother sent him and wrote several letters. The first person he decided to share one with was Quincey and I could tell from the expression on Quincey's face that it was a tough read. I wanted to offer my help, but it was clear that Paco was more comfortable learning from Quincey.

One night, while Paco was studying at the table, Craig was flicking through the channels and he decided to watch one of the "2003 World Series Of Poker" reruns on ESPN. This was the final episode where we all saw Chris Moneymaker defeat Sammy Farha. This spawned a conversation about the movie "Rounders" and within a few minutes Craig, Scott, and even Paco claimed to be the best poker player in the jail pod.

I still remember Paco yelling, "Paco bluff you all out of pot," followed by his annoying, but playful laugh, "EEE HEEE..EEE HEEE."

To which Craig responded, "Well too bad your broke lemonade sippin ass don't have no money to try bluffing me out of a pot. What you think about that Paco? Why don't you go on and get back to your ****** ass school work? Who you writing a letter to now Paco? You don't know how to play no poker, man. Shut the **** up."

This lead to Paco standing up and screaming, "Monkey. Monkey. Monkey. OHHH OHH AHH AHH...MONKEY....MONKEY.....OHHH OHHH AHH AHH..."MONKEY MONKEY."

Craig was in no mood to play this time and said, "Why don't your stand your wet ****ing ass up and say that **** to my face Paco?"

As Paco started to playfully act like a gorilla hopping around the table Craig tackled him to the floor in a fit of rage and a fight broke out. This is where I learned Paco had obviously had some training in street fighting because even though Craig was on top, every punch he meant to land on Paco's face went directly into the floor.

When it was all said and done Craig had two boxer's fractures, was screaming in pain, and Paco was still shouting, "Monkey. Monkey. Monkey. OHHH OHH AHH AHH...MONKEY....MONKEY.....OHHH OHHH AHH AHH..."MONKEY MONKEY."

Finally, the guards entered the jail cell and asked who had started the fight. Before anyone could speak, Paco said, "Me." Then he grabbed the book my Grandmother sent him from the table and was sent to solitary confinement. While he was away, I couldn't resist the urge to read some of the letters he had wrote that were stored in his gray plastic tub underneath our bunk.

To my surprise, Paco hadn't wrote anything more than one letter and each revision of the letter he wrote was to my Grandmother. Quincey was obviously correcting Paco's mistakes each day and Paco was re-writing the letter in order to get a better grasp of the English language. If you took a look at the first draft he wrote, then compared it to the last one, you would have noticed that Paco was a quick learner.

The contents of the letter confirmed what I had thought all along. Paco claimed to be an innocent man. Apparently the judges daughter was a senior in high school, one of the smartest in her class, and despite her beautiful looks, she had never been asked to a school dance.

Paco learned all of this over the summer of her junior year when he was working for a landscaping company. The judge's daughter was so kind she gave Paco an old iPod when she saw him mowing the lawn without headphones. She was fluent in Spanish, so she told Paco, "That no man should work that hard without music."

The iPod was filled with electronic music and she would always catch Paco playfully dancing while he was taking a break. Eventually, she started to bring Paco freshly squeezed lemonade every time he was tending to their lawn and that's when they became friends.

She told Paco that her Mother was murdered a long time ago.

She told Paco that her Father was cruel, over-protective, and did many things to her that she would rather not speak of for reasons best known to her.

She told Paco that it was impossible for her to find love because her Father would have any boys who tried to date her or take her out arrested.

The isolation, pain, and loneliness had caused grim construction to grow around her heart. There wasn't a day that went by where she wasn't depressed. So, every day Paco saw her he would try his best to take her away to another place with stories about love, music, concerts, street fighting, break dancing, music festivals, Mexico, and why so many immigrants flee to America in search of a better life.

She would listen intently and hang on his every word. After each story she would tell Paco that she wanted him to take her to her senior prom and wear the red+black suit and tie combo that he was known for in the break dancing underground. Paco said that he had officially retired the suit and tie combo after he lost a dance off at a music festival in 2002, but would wear it one last time to the prom with her if no other boy had asked her to go before then.

She assured Paco that their would be no other boy.

As their friendship grew, she told Paco more and more about her over-protective Father.

Each time Paco would tell her that when she meets the right boy, he will not care about her Father and nothing will stop him from trying to possess her heart.

These conversations only caused the tops she was wearing to be cut lower and the shorts she was wearing to be shorter each time she brought Paco the lemonade. Her blinds would also mysteriously be open each time she was changing or coming back to her room after taking a shower.

A month before her senior prom she told Paco that she didn't want to give her love to a boy, that she wanted to give her love to a man.

As she sat closer to Paco than she had ever sat before, surely there was only one song that could have been going through his head...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2vXr1bsV4U

Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes it's not so easy
To be the teacher's pet
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly
It's no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabakov

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

I'm good with you playing anything you please with that BR, GL in the tourney.

Thanks man.

What's a good website that offers videos or written advice on live tournaments... $365-$1675 buy ins?

Going to be paying to join some sites soon in order to improve my game.

so i clicked on this thread randomly read this reply to the other post about you whining, i dont even know the context or whatever, but i think i laughed a little too hard =)

Quite the gesture to get "The Peoples Bankroll" back! It shall only lead to good karma. You definitely weren't obligated to do so but it is a hell of generous move.

I like your thinking as far as the tourney strat goes as well.

Good Luck at 2/5 and the next tourney LG!

Thanks...

Guys been following my threads for last the last four months and contributes nothing of value.

Tournament Poker Edge

Ditto.

I trust your judgement LG. Keep crushing. Your recaps are impeccable, and as far as I'm concerned, so is your reputation.

May the rungood be with you.

Will check it out, seen a few guys who I follow on Twitter plug it...

Seen a guy in the poker room at Horseshoe Cincinnati wearing the American flag pants and thought to myself, "I wonder if that is the guy with the epic 2+2 thread" Sure enough, it had to be.

I walk into Radio Shack yesterday with that outfit on and inquire about a power chord for a desktop computer...

Kid tells me it's going to cost $47.00.

I say, "Do you really think you're going to pull one over on a man wearing American flag pants and a wolf shirt? Show me where the cheapest one is and stop trying to upsell me punk."

Kid starts loling and says he promises that is the only one they have and if his manager wasn't working he'd buy it himself with his employee discount and give it to me because I look so awesome.

He proceeds to ask where I got the pants and I said "Sorry man, I can't be giving out all my secrets."

I won $300 today playing $1/$2 on my own roll and bought a subscription to Tournament Poker Edge.

Been watching videos for last few hours and have learned a lot.

Locked and loaded for tomorrow.

lol you can get a power cord for like 5$ wtf

$580 just kicked off....

Will post proof of entry to all tournies tonight!!

Here we go....