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The Big Show came to town this weekend. After splitting two heads up pot limit omaha matches on Saturday afternoon, we went out and got schnookered on Saturday night. Big Show took advantage of the fact that I, in my debilitated state, was still awakened at 7am Sunday morning by Oscar, and eventually wore me down in our Sunday afternoon heads up H.O.R.S.E round robin. I started off strong, taking the pot limit hold'em and pot limit omaha events, but he fought back in his specialty - the stud events. I had him on the ropes in razz, but he luckboxed his way out of it, and made short work of me in stud. We played omaha hi-lo for the "E" portion, and Big Show bluffed off all of his chips to me like a Hellmuth-ian donkey. Unfortunately, his meager hand held up, and he claimed the H.O.R.S.E. title on my home turf, sending me into Sunday evening mega-TILT. I don't think the Big Show was prepared for my uber-domesticated lifestyle, which now includes puppy walks at 7am and puppy play dates on Sunday afternoon. Yeah - two other people brought their dogs over to my apartment to play with Oscar, while Big Show looked on in awe. Who knew Kid Dynamite was such a softie. Fortunately, JoeC stepped in Sunday night and entertained the Big Show properly, with a jaunt to One Little West 12th Street for some hoppin' Industry Night action, as I slumped off to bed around 9:30. Oy vey. until next time, -KD

Tags: big, show, sunday, omaha, afternoon

This morning I dreamt I had pocket aces. I was sitting in a NL Hold'em game, first orbit at the table, with $1000 in front of me. Blinds were $5-$10. In early position, I raised to $30, and was called twice, before the SB min-raised to $60. I popped it again, making it $250 to go, and all three opponents called. At this point, I realized that I was not playing hold'em - I was playing Omaha - I had 4 cards, not two: A-A-T-T. I used to have the dream that I got involved in a big pot, and on the river my cards would change for the worse. I'm told this is a common degenerate poker player's dream, and this morning's dream was an interesting Freudian variation. So, I'm significantly less excited about my A-A-T-T Omaha high hand, compared to my AA hold'em hand, but I am temporarily pacified by the flop of T-9-3 with two hearts. I do not have a heart draw. The SB checks, and I shuffle my chips, which the dealer interprets as a check. One player checks behind me before I object: "I haven't acted yet. I'm all-in. I'm all-in." I said it twice - I remember this clearly. and then the alarm went off.... I need to play some poker... -KD

Tags: dream, check, em, hold, hand

" I've got the biggest dick in the world. Twelve inches of thick black cock . " 6:20am and this is the first thing I hear when I walk out of my apartment. My immediate thought is, "Dad? Is that you?" But alas, it's not my long lost father. It's some dude who looks like he could be normal, ranting at no one in particular. I'm in front of him, walking the same direction as he is, and we pass a woman loading luggage into a town car, like she's going to the airport. Johnny BigDick leers at her "Oh yeah Sistah - work that trunk, " and I can hardly contain my laughter. Unfortunately the next words out of his mouth, I fear, are directed at me: "I love sucking white boys' cocks." Normally this may be a good thing to hear, but in my neighborhood, and this time, it is usually not music to my ears. The chances of these words coming from neighbors Liv Tyler, Famke Jansen or Gisele are somewhere between slim and none (akin to catching perfect-perfect to scoop a pot - only much much worse), while the chances of them coming from a 5 foot 6 inch gay black man are pretty fuckin' good (like having a super wrap straight draw + flush draw with overcards in an Omaha pot that makes you a big favorite). I make it to work, and in the afternoon I fire off an email to Chris asking him if he's played at our club lately. He replies that not only is the club still going, but he played last night, and there were at least four BIG TIME action players splashing around, issuing brutal beats. I quickly shoot off another email to The Vortex, imploring him "You have to go play live - I hear the game is sick. I can't play because I have to take care of Oscar after work." Vortex quickly replies this he was genuinely Midway this amusement, to boot that it was sweeter than I could expect, giving me a few contents illustration. I'm now welcome serious TILT, all along I'm aching to play stay in poker, but discern particular obligations, exceptionally, my boy - Oscar. Instead of animate vicariously Because Vortex, I hunger a share of the activity myself... oh thoughtlessly. twin term, another dollar. -KD

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