SICK marathon session w/ mega coolers
11-18-2012
, 07:38 PM
11-19-2012
, 07:32 PM
"is it on me?!" i say excitedly. "who's it on??" i say glaring at the dealer. before he can answer i look down and see the button in front of my hole cards. whipping my head around toward my opponent i say, "go ahead! it's on you."
the adderall is taking effect much sooner than i'd expected, my laser focus is now infused with mild amounts of hyper activity. before my opponent can decide what to do my left hand instinctively goes to my cheques and i'm practicing a few no-look chip tricks while staring him down. After a few moments of deliberation my opponent silently taps the felt twice while staring blankly at the board. Every muscle fiber in my body is stopping me from sliding my stack in the middle. Not wanting to give anything away I sit statuesque for a full minute. Thinking about every possible bet I can throw out I realize it's sfobv what i need to do. 100% o the time i'd just ship it, but this doesn't count. I got him sitting on AK at best and my tight image from the previous orbit will most certainly induce a turbo-muck. I can't phuck this up.
"check back" i say out of the corner of my mouth, minimizing any facial expression that might give away the strength of my hand.
Turn: 5
My opponent acting a little quicker this time checks over to me again. "what the phuckkkkk!" i think to myself, "how's he not stabbing at this??" fortunately my body hasn't moved an inch from the start of the hand and he has no idea of the rage that's coursing through my veins.
Calming myself down for a moment while the gears in my head work out how to get the monies in I suddenly proclaim, "wooooow you phuck, you probably have pocket 8's huh?" Sticking with my read I'm certain he's got no better than ace high and i have him draw stone cold steve austin dead. i'm just messin with him. getting back to business i come to the decision that it's time to bloat the pot up for a profitable shove on the river however. i need to give him delicious pot odds to stick around and if i'm lucky enough, let him pair up and take an all expense paid trip to brokesville.
"you really would be stupid enough to check pocket 8's here" i holler at him as i start to cut out my bet.
"Five" i say, letting out an audible sigh as I meekly toss in a single chip.
without saying anything, villain quickly goes to his stack and matches my bet.
River: Q
Grimacing a little at the river, he doesn't take long to check over a third time. This kid is an open book; his AK missed all three streets and i've manipulated him enough to get him to put in $22.25 drawing dead at every corner. Question is, how much more can I take him for. He doesn't have a whole lot left in his stack and I know he's never calling a shove with AK, the sign of a professional is being able to extract maximum value no matter what. There's only one option left, I gotta squeeze out $8 more and bring the pain.
Carelessly letting my chips slide in the middle i say, "8 bones."
Leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling it's obvious I've put him to the test. "this is so stupid" he says, as he irately goes to his stack. "you probably have me...i can't fold though..." he says to himself as I recounts his $8. Holding them in his left hand he pauses for a minute and re-checks the board. shaking his head in disappointment he says, "whatever....i call..". the moment his chips hit the middle he instantly looks into my eyes for my reaction. "you have two pair?" he asks.
"no..." i reply, "i got a pair."
"one pair!?" he says hopefully. "i got kings" he says as he throws his hand into the middle of the table.
Letting out a roar of anger because of my missed value i bellow out, "WOW, YOU ARE SO PHUCKIN BAD DUDE!"
"what do you got???" he says,
looking away from the table and shaking my head in disgust i say "nines...."
as his eyes are fixed on my cards i slowly roll them over and snap them on the felt. grinning up at him i say, "TRIPLE NINES!"
the adderall is taking effect much sooner than i'd expected, my laser focus is now infused with mild amounts of hyper activity. before my opponent can decide what to do my left hand instinctively goes to my cheques and i'm practicing a few no-look chip tricks while staring him down. After a few moments of deliberation my opponent silently taps the felt twice while staring blankly at the board. Every muscle fiber in my body is stopping me from sliding my stack in the middle. Not wanting to give anything away I sit statuesque for a full minute. Thinking about every possible bet I can throw out I realize it's sfobv what i need to do. 100% o the time i'd just ship it, but this doesn't count. I got him sitting on AK at best and my tight image from the previous orbit will most certainly induce a turbo-muck. I can't phuck this up.
"check back" i say out of the corner of my mouth, minimizing any facial expression that might give away the strength of my hand.
Turn: 5
My opponent acting a little quicker this time checks over to me again. "what the phuckkkkk!" i think to myself, "how's he not stabbing at this??" fortunately my body hasn't moved an inch from the start of the hand and he has no idea of the rage that's coursing through my veins.
Calming myself down for a moment while the gears in my head work out how to get the monies in I suddenly proclaim, "wooooow you phuck, you probably have pocket 8's huh?" Sticking with my read I'm certain he's got no better than ace high and i have him draw stone cold steve austin dead. i'm just messin with him. getting back to business i come to the decision that it's time to bloat the pot up for a profitable shove on the river however. i need to give him delicious pot odds to stick around and if i'm lucky enough, let him pair up and take an all expense paid trip to brokesville.
"you really would be stupid enough to check pocket 8's here" i holler at him as i start to cut out my bet.
"Five" i say, letting out an audible sigh as I meekly toss in a single chip.
without saying anything, villain quickly goes to his stack and matches my bet.
River: Q
Grimacing a little at the river, he doesn't take long to check over a third time. This kid is an open book; his AK missed all three streets and i've manipulated him enough to get him to put in $22.25 drawing dead at every corner. Question is, how much more can I take him for. He doesn't have a whole lot left in his stack and I know he's never calling a shove with AK, the sign of a professional is being able to extract maximum value no matter what. There's only one option left, I gotta squeeze out $8 more and bring the pain.
Carelessly letting my chips slide in the middle i say, "8 bones."
Leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling it's obvious I've put him to the test. "this is so stupid" he says, as he irately goes to his stack. "you probably have me...i can't fold though..." he says to himself as I recounts his $8. Holding them in his left hand he pauses for a minute and re-checks the board. shaking his head in disappointment he says, "whatever....i call..". the moment his chips hit the middle he instantly looks into my eyes for my reaction. "you have two pair?" he asks.
"no..." i reply, "i got a pair."
"one pair!?" he says hopefully. "i got kings" he says as he throws his hand into the middle of the table.
Letting out a roar of anger because of my missed value i bellow out, "WOW, YOU ARE SO PHUCKIN BAD DUDE!"
"what do you got???" he says,
looking away from the table and shaking my head in disgust i say "nines...."
as his eyes are fixed on my cards i slowly roll them over and snap them on the felt. grinning up at him i say, "TRIPLE NINES!"
11-19-2012
, 10:15 PM
11-19-2012
, 10:56 PM
11-20-2012
, 01:23 AM
Unable to conceal the wide smile on my face I stand up from the table as I cheerfully rake in my cheques. "i phuckin love this game!" i say to the table. Stacking my towers back up to their respectable heights I look up towards the dealer noticing the next hand has yet to be dealt.
Gripping the deck tightly in his hand, the proprietor has his eyes fixed on me. with a threatening look about him, he coldly says, "...if you slowroll one more time we're kicking you out and keeping your money."
"oh i'm sorry" i say, "...was that your boyfriend I just soul pwned??" i ask with an sarcastic, innocent tone.
"no, but if you do it again i'll kick the s*** out of you." he replies (as if i really did just soul pwn his bf.)
quietly laughing to myself i shoot back, "ha, sure thing boss."
After my big hand I'm content to sit back for a while and lock up my winnings for the time being. Close to an hour passes and the action is almost non existent as the night continues to creep into the early morning. I've managed to keep my stack around even until I pick up the A 10 in the SB. The proprietor of the game is in MP and opens it up for a raise to $2.25. Due to our recent history, coupled with him assaulting me in the early hours of our game, I'm lookin to bust him here. This guy acts like he's Taylor phuckin Lautner or something. He thinks he's so good looking, but he's not.
The entire table behind him calls. Lately the game flow has been crazy passive, I decide now is a great time to put an end to that. Assuming my position of table captain I look to isolate the owner and take him head up for his stack.
"oohhh buddy, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into here." i playfully say as I break off a quarter of one of my towers. Pushing in a stack of blues into the middle i verbalize my bet, "twenty." looking him dead in the eyes as I'm doing so.
Meeting my stare he pauses for a minute before his eyes glance back down at his chips. Giving it little thought he pops me right back, "Sixty.." he calmly says, taking back his original bet and exchanging it for 6 blacks.
Without much of any thought my instincts tell me to mini-raise him back to pick up some more info. "hundie" i coolly say as I match his 6 blacks and throw in 2 more of my own. Realizing I've acted slightly out of turn, the original flat callers all fold their hands without giving it much thought.
Rolling his eyes like he's ****** durrrr he looks up at the ceiling and monotonously says, "i'm all in." like he's bored out of his mind.
Insta-tilted by his complete gheyness I mimic his expressions and roll my eyes toward the ceiling while I monotonously reply, "i call." Not bothering to count down his stack. I see my opportunity to bust him and I must take it.
The energy in the room is contagious as suddenly everyone is on their feet in anticipation of the cards being turned over.
The proprietor wastes no time in tabling his J J
.
With fire in my eyes as I see pocket MF jakes again. i shout out, "IS THIS FOR REAL???" YOU MF SHOW UP WITH JAKES EVERY HAND!"
Squeamishly I turn over my hand as the room seems to spin in circles. I can't take this s***, how many friggin coolers can go down in one game....let alone to the same guy??? It's so ***** ridiclous, this s*** never happens online, it's fuggin impossible.
Then it hits me. It is impossible. Think about it. Jakes, jakes, jakes, all damn day. All in and they have jakes everytime. These mf weseals are passing their jakes around to each other under the table. It's a phuckin set up!
As the board runs out dry I break off the remainder of what I owe ($10.75). Not worrying myself with minor details I bust out my phone and text up my homie.
"you phaggs care if my friend joins us?" I ask the table.
"that's fine" the proprietor says as he stacks up his winnings with a smile on his face.
Getting a reply back from my road dowg I see, "whattap! yea, i'll be there in 10!"
making sure to text him before he leaves his place i text back, "i'm getting cheated, we need to run the table bro."
"no doubt." he replies.
Moments later he's bustin through the door with phat stacks in his hand.
Jumping up to meet him i give him some skin and say, "Modus...whattap bro!!"
Gripping the deck tightly in his hand, the proprietor has his eyes fixed on me. with a threatening look about him, he coldly says, "...if you slowroll one more time we're kicking you out and keeping your money."
"oh i'm sorry" i say, "...was that your boyfriend I just soul pwned??" i ask with an sarcastic, innocent tone.
"no, but if you do it again i'll kick the s*** out of you." he replies (as if i really did just soul pwn his bf.)
quietly laughing to myself i shoot back, "ha, sure thing boss."
After my big hand I'm content to sit back for a while and lock up my winnings for the time being. Close to an hour passes and the action is almost non existent as the night continues to creep into the early morning. I've managed to keep my stack around even until I pick up the A
10 in the SB. The proprietor of the game is in MP and opens it up for a raise to $2.25. Due to our recent history, coupled with him assaulting me in the early hours of our game, I'm lookin to bust him here. This guy acts like he's Taylor phuckin Lautner or something. He thinks he's so good looking, but he's not.The entire table behind him calls. Lately the game flow has been crazy passive, I decide now is a great time to put an end to that. Assuming my position of table captain I look to isolate the owner and take him head up for his stack.
"oohhh buddy, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into here." i playfully say as I break off a quarter of one of my towers. Pushing in a stack of blues into the middle i verbalize my bet, "twenty." looking him dead in the eyes as I'm doing so.
Meeting my stare he pauses for a minute before his eyes glance back down at his chips. Giving it little thought he pops me right back, "Sixty.." he calmly says, taking back his original bet and exchanging it for 6 blacks.
Without much of any thought my instincts tell me to mini-raise him back to pick up some more info. "hundie" i coolly say as I match his 6 blacks and throw in 2 more of my own. Realizing I've acted slightly out of turn, the original flat callers all fold their hands without giving it much thought.
Rolling his eyes like he's ****** durrrr he looks up at the ceiling and monotonously says, "i'm all in." like he's bored out of his mind.
Insta-tilted by his complete gheyness I mimic his expressions and roll my eyes toward the ceiling while I monotonously reply, "i call." Not bothering to count down his stack. I see my opportunity to bust him and I must take it.
The energy in the room is contagious as suddenly everyone is on their feet in anticipation of the cards being turned over.
The proprietor wastes no time in tabling his J
J.With fire in my eyes as I see pocket MF jakes again. i shout out, "IS THIS FOR REAL???" YOU MF SHOW UP WITH JAKES EVERY HAND!"
Squeamishly I turn over my hand as the room seems to spin in circles. I can't take this s***, how many friggin coolers can go down in one game....let alone to the same guy??? It's so ***** ridiclous, this s*** never happens online, it's fuggin impossible.
Then it hits me. It is impossible. Think about it. Jakes, jakes, jakes, all damn day. All in and they have jakes everytime. These mf weseals are passing their jakes around to each other under the table. It's a phuckin set up!
As the board runs out dry I break off the remainder of what I owe ($10.75). Not worrying myself with minor details I bust out my phone and text up my homie.
"you phaggs care if my friend joins us?" I ask the table.
"that's fine" the proprietor says as he stacks up his winnings with a smile on his face.
Getting a reply back from my road dowg I see, "whattap! yea, i'll be there in 10!"
making sure to text him before he leaves his place i text back, "i'm getting cheated, we need to run the table bro."
"no doubt." he replies.
Moments later he's bustin through the door with phat stacks in his hand.
Jumping up to meet him i give him some skin and say, "Modus...whattap bro!!"
Last edited by HeyN8itsDan; 11-20-2012 at 01:35 AM.
11-20-2012
, 01:25 AM
11-20-2012
, 02:24 AM
this thread makes me happy
11-20-2012
, 11:16 AM
11-21-2012
, 02:41 PM
11-21-2012
, 09:26 PM
