Sunday, April 30, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Pokerwise: Still trying to rebound from the back to back poker disasters of two weeks ago, I have re-focused my game, and am playing flawless poker. I played 90 minutes of live 1-2NL on Monday night, for +$276, and 2 hours last night, for +$467. In between, I crushed Jordan's homegame tourney, but settled for second place.
Puppywise: Oscar is the cutest fucking dog you've ever seen. He's such a stud it's absolutely incredible. Take a look:
Drinking straight from the bottle - Boone's Farms Style - only he's drinking a $40 bottle of Pinot Noir from Napa. I told you he was spoiled.
In other news, Mrs. Dynamite was making Matzoh Ball soup last night, from some leftover chicken I'd made the night before. Since we're on vacation this week, and we've been hanging out in town, we've been trying to take advantage of the free time to cook dinner. My wife would definitely win any "Shikza Matzoh Ball Soup Making Contest."
I peer over Mrs. Dynamite's shoulder and ask: "You like making the matzoh balls small eh?" I try to make them the size of your nuts," she replied instantly and honestly. Touche. Blogworthy. Lemme tell you though - when the matzoh balls were done, they were effing huge baby.
I'm off to Boston for the weekend with the Mrs. and the puppy. We're doing an annual canoe relay race on the Charles with our families. So far I'm 3 for 3 in "years getting poison ivey on my legs" even though I still haven't seen the fucking ivey.
I'll leave you with one more Oscar picture for the weekend...
until next time,
Monday, April 24, 2006
So this NEEDS to be addressed... The David Williams Story.
I first read about the David Williams Story on NeverWinPoker.com, but it seems that the story has been circulating for years throughout Williams' old circle: the Magic community. Basically the story is this: Williams needed cash, so he appeared in a porno in which he spends a significant chunk of time chomping on the poop chute of a washed up C-level porn star.
There is a blog, StarkNakedPoker, with all the details of the saga, including links to video clips.
Now I can't be sure this is actually David Williams - it certainly looks like him, but you can bet your hershey highway I'd use it to put DW on TILT if I ever sat with him... "Wow.. Bad beat.. that sucks ass... No offense David..." "Anyone want to order food? I'll have a tossed salad... Oops - Sorry David." The possibilities are endless.
But here's the bottom line: If it is indeed David Williams in that video - kudos to him. What's a better poker story than this:
Young aspiring poker star gets taken to the felt, broke, and has to raise a new playing stake. Instead of playing on someone else's money for a share of the profits, he pimps himself out in a low grade porno, eating the ass of some Skinimax reject from 1985. Young Star takes the porno profits and enters a satellite for the WSOP Main Event. Young Star wins the satellite, and parlays the entry into a 2nd place finish, $2MM + payday at the World Series of Poker. That's better than the Mikey McD story from Rounders. That's the American Dream: wake up broke, eat ass, parlay payment into millions. Boo Yah.
I mean seriously, who hasn't eaten a little ass on camera to raise a buy-in when they were down to the felt and the game was still good? I can't be the only one... Guys? Guys???
No shame David - just pop a piece of Dentyne before you talk to me.
(Disclaimer: KD has never tossed salad on camera)
Saturday, April 22, 2006
I went with two missions: to put Soxlover on TILT, and to try to have a good time. Soxlover foiled my plan by getting busted on the very first hand of the tourney - nice defense douchebag. I later tilted myself by mucking the NUT LOW (we were playing NL Holdem) after action was complete on the river, when it turned out my opponent had the same hand. I eventually got heads up with Jordan, our host, and managed to get him all-in with Friday in Vegas: JJ vs his QJ. He turned a gutshot straight, and I was all-in the next hand, again with Friday in Vegas. This time his Q-4 spiked a queen, and Jordan took down first place in his own tourney. Yeah - like that wasn't rigged. I settled for second, and along the way managed to put a few nice suckouts on Jordan's collection of internet young guns. These guys are SnG specialists, but I looked into their souls Hellmuth-style (minus all the douche-bagged-ness) and neutralized their lethal tourney skills.
Today me and 6 friends are going on on the Deep Banana Blackout concert cruise. One of my favorite bands (a horns infused jam band) has re-united for the Green Apple Festival - a NYC Earthday special. Major drunkenness is forecast, along with thunderstorms and 45 degree temperatures: I'm offering a bounty to the first person in my crew who pukes off the boat.
In the meantime, you must all check out NeverWinPoker.com, the home of internet pro's Dustin "NeverWin" Woolf, Todd "DanDruff" Whittles and Bryan Micon. They have a few stories on there which need to be addressed by me in future posts, but lets just say they involve
a) Gavin Griffin's hammer
b) (allegedly) David Williams in a porno.
That should keep you busy for a little while...
until next time,
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
I can only imagine the surprise on one douchebag's face when he searched for "barbershop hot lather shave gentlemen" and ended up with Dirty Dave's legendary guest post about a poop gone bad at Truefitt and Hill in Vegas on Six Sigma Sunday.
I also get a lot of hits from searches like "Phil Hellmuth Douchebag," "Sean Sheikhan," and "Peyton Manning's Wife."
I was going to write a post about Oscar's throbbing boner (uh oh, now I'll show up in some more totally fucked up searches), but as Bones noted, I don't have a good picture to go along with it, so I'll hold off for now. I'll throw in a bum-sniffing pic instead.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Today, I ground my stack up early, and then quickly got stacked by Chris on his first hand: I raised to $10 UTG with Friday in Vegas: JJ. Chris called, as did JD and one other, and we saw a 6-7-8 flop with two diamonds.
I bet $50 and was called by both players. On the turn, the jack of diamonds came. Aiyahh... speaking of cold decks. Chris has been playing ridiculously fast and loose lately, so I'm not planning to check-fold here. I bet $150, and he moves all-in for $180 more. Fuckin'A. I call and he has K-3 of diamonds. The board doesn't pair on the river.
Can I get away from this hand? Perhaps. This is one I can complain about all I want, but I didn't need to lose $330 more here on the turn. Indeed, the jack of diamonds was the worst card in the deck for me on the turn, but it's also conceivable I can give up on this pot against two opponents. The bottom line was, against these two opponents, in this game, I wasn't prepared to do so.
I rebought, and really focused. I played some of my best poker: managing to dodge bullets in difficult situations while fighting to stay afloat and maintain my discipline.
I raise to $15 in EP with KQ, and 5 players called me. I bet $75 into the flop of K-T-6, and Billy R on the button thought for 20 seconds before moving all-in. I had about $550 left, and he had me covered. Now, Billy was the one who stacked me a while back with AA vs. my KK, making a similar overbet which I called preflop. We've talked at length about that hand, and Billy knows that I'm a thinking player. So while I'd normally have to muck this KQ without hesitation, Billy is deep inside my head: I know that he knows that I know he's done this to me before... Does he put me on AK and expect me to call here? In any case, Billy is not the type of guy who puts his money in the pot in a situation like this drawing dead. At best I'm up against an open ender, or a flush draw. At worst I'm drawing almost dead to a set. I muck. Feel good about it KD.
I gained a lot of confidence when I beat my nemesis, Billy R, in the following pot:
Larry raised to $15, and Billy called. I was in the SB with JJ again, and made it $55 to go. Both players called. The flop came: 8-4-2. I checked. Larry checked. Billy bet $65, I called and Larry mucked. The turn was a nine, and I checked. Billy makes a comment about my subtle pinky finger check, and checks behind me. The river is a deuce, pairing the board. I check again. Billy bets $140 and I call, raking the pot when he shows 3-3. I like the way I played this hand: Billy is a very tough player, and I maximized my value here.
I was in for $1000, with about $950 in my stack, when I made the biggest mistake of the past two days - and it cost me. I can make all the excuses I want, and try justify my play, but the bottom line is, this was one of the worst calls I have made in recent memory. I can only hope this play is a lesson to someone reading this. Here's what happened:
I was in the SB with AA. There was a straddle, and two callers, before Ivan on the button made it $35. Now, Ivan is a big donater in the game: he's loose and wild, and will call down big bets with marginal hands. The strategy for beating Ivan is simple: make a hand and bet it.
I raised to $85, and everyone folded to Ivan, who said "You want $50 more of my money eh? Ok." and called.
The flop was Q-6-4 rainbow. I bet $100, Ivan called. This could mean he has a queen (he may frequently raise a queen here, but will also smooth call), or any pair between 6's and Q's.
The turn is a 3, and I bet $250. Ivan says "I'm all-in," and I jump up from the table. Fuck. The dealer burn a card and goes to deal the turn card and the whole table yells at him to stop - as I haven't acted yet.
Now, the easy reasoning is "It's Ivan - he could have anything, I call," but I'm smarter than that. More importantly, I know Ivan's smarter than that. Ivan is very difficult to put on a hand, but the bottom line is, he's extremely unlikely to raise me here with A-Q, K-Q a weaker Q, or any other hand I can beat. I don't think he has KK, but I do think he'd play KK like this. Ivan is not stupid - he usually has a hand like two pair or a bigger made hand here. I know this - it's an easy laydown.
I look at Ivan. "I have aces." I tell him. "That's not the hand I put you on," he responds. Muck. Muck!. Muck the hand KD - the voices in my head are screaming. You cannot be winning. But it's IVAN! I respond to the voices. He could have anything! You know that's not true - come on - you're plenty good enough to release these aces.
The table calls the clock on me. I ask Ivan "If I fold will you show me?" "No," he answers. If he says yes, I'm calling in a heartbeat. But he said "No" - of course he did - he has a monster and wants me to call! This is such and easy fold I can't believe it. I count and recount my chips. I stand up and scratch my head. The dealer counts down. 30 seconds left.
I stack my chips. I'm mucking. I shake my head. I look at Ivan. "Ten. nine. eight. seven..." and a last thought goes through my head, proving I've hit rock botton: If I win this pot, I could dig myself out of the hole I've been sliding into for the last two days. My hands, as if acting on their own, push my $550+ chips neatly into the pot, as I watch in horror.
Ivan turns of 6-6: he flopped a set. The river is a ten, and I shake my head. No excuses. Digging myself out of the hole? Come on... I just dug myself into a hole that I have no chance of getting out of. Bad call. "It's Ivan, he could have anything" simply doesn't work as an excuse for a good player, which I envision myself as. Despite my brilliant play over the session, this one mistake cost me about $1k. It wasn't bad luck. It wasn't a cold deck, it was a bad play.
I rebought, got ground down to $225, and lost my remaining stack with 2-2 in this cold-deck situation that typified the victim mindset I fell into: Ivan made it $20 preflop and 5 of us called. The flop came Q-Q-2 with two hearts. It was checked around. Turn: 8 of hearts. Bobby checked. Ivan bet $85. I moved all in for $205. Bobby called. Ivan called. I show my had to Sal, next to me, and he pats me on the arm, whispering "There you go!" "I am not winning this pot," I sigh to him, beaten.
River: Jack of hearts: Bobby bets $300 and Ivan mucks. Bobby turns over - I don't even need to see it - I know already: Q-8. Unreal. I toss my 2-2 on the felt, eliciting moans of worthless sympathy. Could I have bet the flop? Of course - but it wouldn't have made a difference. Bobby does not release a queen here. And my equity in letting the flush draws chase their heart drawing dead was more than worth it anyway, considering that a queen isn't folding. Cold Fucking Deck.
I walk out into the rain without an umbrella, and manage to laugh at the situation. More bad fucking luck. More cold fucking decks. Then I think back to the fact that the big pot I lost had nothing to do with luck - NO EXCUSES - it was my own stubbornness, TILT, and desperation that cost me an extra $550 with aces in a hopeless situation.
I hit "play" on my Ipod, forgetting where I had stopped the music. Pearl Jam: Alive. "Ohhhh, I'm still alive," Eddie Vedder wails, as I laugh again, and smile at the omen: yeah - I'm still alive. I'm shaking my head as I walk toward the subway in a slow, steady rain. The next song comes on: Why Go: with Vedder shrieking "Why go home? Why go home? Why go home?" Is someone trying to tell me something? I look for the hidden message... But I'm going home: I know why....
Cause it's not all about some bad calls and bad beats...
Live and learn.
Now, although I consider myself smarter than the average bear, and like Bobby Bracelet, I scorn the stupid, I have faith in the ability of the average NYC employee to effectively dispense a soft serve ice cream substitute into a cone or cup by pulling a lever on a machine. Where does the training come in? Hazing. That's all. The veteran Alpha-Tasti-D-Female in residence makes this pledge wear the TRAINEE badge to let her know: "Hey - you think you've got it all figured out, but I've been dispensing wafer cones since you were in diapers," even though the veteran has only been there 4 months. Always puts a smile on my face.
And while I'm ranting: lemme talk about this New Jersey smoking ban. New Jersey has banned smoking in indoor places: bars, restaurants, etc, following in the footsteps of New York, Massachusetts, and several other states. Great stuff - I applaud them - but there is one major problem: the ban doesn't apply on the floor of Atlantic City casinos!
What? Now in NYC, when bars complained that they would lose business to the smoking ban, they were full of shit: every bar and nightspot was on equal footing: unless smokers ceased going out entirely, which did not happen, business would go on. In New Jersey, however, even though casinos already have the most addictive product on the market: the allure of easy money, their lobbyists somehow convinced the legislature to give them a monopoly on the second most addictive product: nicotine. That is a big load of crap - and local NJ business have every right to be pissed.
That is all.
I'm going to get a haircut today - very exciting - and then I will make my Ali-like return to the felt for some live NL play.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
I played 4 hours of live 1-2NL today. The game was wild: loose action and huge pots. I bided my time, patiently mucking my trash hands and my missed flops, until, 90 minutes into the session, I played the pot I was waiting for against an action player. Two players limped, and the cutoff, Bobby, raised to $15. I called with 4-4 in the small blind, and $600 in my stack (Bobby had me covered). Two other came along.
flop: 2-4-Q rainbow. I bet out $40, and a limper called, as did Bobby.
The turn brought a jack, and Bobby flinched visibly. I bet $100, and with little hesitation, he raised it to $300. I counted down my chips: I had $460 left, which I pushed in. He called the last $160, and Eddie dealt the river:
Queen. I tabled my 4-4, and Bobby showed Q-J. Aiyahh! Railed in the backdoor for a $1300 pot - and I took it like a man. Right in the poop chute. "Chips."
Unfortunately, the rest of the session didn't get any better. I got stacked with AJ suited in diamonds after this action: I raise UTG to $10, and get 5 callers. Larry in the SB bumps it to $20 - a strange move: he's kinda on tilt, but he doesn't make this move without a hand he wants to play a big pot with. The BB calls in between us, and I debate a raise, but settle on a call. Everyone comes along. We see the flop:
2-3-Q with two diamonds. Larry checks, the BB bets out $55, and I raise to $255. It's folded to Sal who moves all-in - he clearly has a set, and I call my remaining $150 to see his set of threes. The turn brings an ace, and the river is the 7 of clubs: I'm left digging into my pocket again.
Sal took another few hundred from me when he flopped a set of sixes vs. my QJ on a A-J-6 board, and called my $25 bet.. The turn brought a jack - the only card in the deck that would get me to put more money in, as it was clear I was previously behind. I checkraised his $50 bet to $200, and he came over the top all-in, but prematurely turned his cards over! I mucked, saving my last $160 - which I lost a few hands later when my TT ran into Will's QQ.
Net for the session: -$1400. Ouch. One of my worst ever.
random thought: Have you seen Jeremy Piven's travel show? Lemme put it this way: I don't want to watch Jeremy Piven travel to India unless he's doing it in character as Ari the Agent from Entourage. 'Nuff Said.
until next time,
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
For my birthday wish, I can only hope that poker players all over the world will make 2006 the year of the Phil Hellmuth song, which they will sing whenever they stack an opponent... "You don't... wanna mess with Hellmuth - Why? 'Cause Hellmuth... will freakin' bust you." (sung in a douche-baggish Hellmuth sing-song voice)
A poster (The_Groove) on Paul's journal said is best: "If I had to devise a formula to create the prototypical jackass, the end result would be very close to Phil Hellmuth."
As a Red Sox fan in New York, it comes from all sides: Big MO and H0nus send the good messages, words of Sox support ("Another 1-2-3 inning for Beckett," "Pap is a stud"). Zray represents the dark side: blasting me on AIM to tell me that Johnny "Judas" Damon doubled in his first at bat in Yankee Stadium. I retaliate by hitting Yankee fan EddieHilz with a screenshot of the AL East standings, and a simple message: Suck It. He ignores me.
We watch not only our own box scores, but those of The Enemy. Sox win... "How'd the Yanks do?" It's reflex. It's all that matters. Never mind that several baseball minds picked Toronto to win the AL East this year (I'd take the Sox/Yanks over Toronto any day.) The Yankees are the competition.
The season is young, but now that the Red Sox have finally proved to be more than the little brother who sits there and takes his beating, the rivalry here in New York is better than ever. Now the Sox have a hope. Now it's a fair fight. Well, almost fair...
But the best tidbit of the young season: Pitcher Bronson Arroyo - who the Red Sox traded to Cincinnati for Willy Mo Pena (who let a ball bounce off his glove into the bullpen for a homer today), is 2-0 with a 1.98 ERA... and TWO HOME RUNS! Yes - Bronson has HIT two home runs! Unreal.
Meanwhile, back in Red Sox Nation, Coco Crisp has a broken finger, Trot Nixon has a pulled groin, and Keith Foulke is a shell of his former self (note: Keith Foulke almost singlehandedly won the Red Sox the World Series in 2004 with impeccable pitching in zero margin of error situations time after time and inning after inning - it's essential that people remember this). On the flip side, Big Papi has a new contract, Manny is happy for the moment, and Schilling is throwing 96 mph on his 110th pitch. Papelbon has the entire town talking, and Beckett is getting fired up.
It's gonna be another wild ride.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
The Stones played Shanghai, China last night, the culmination of an arduous road that resulted in the Chinese Ministry of Culture barring them from performing 5 songs ("Brown Sugar," "Beast of Burden," "Let's Spend the Night Together," "Honky Tonk Women" and "Rough Justice" ) which are, I suppose, the tool of the White Devil. The funny thing is, the ticket prices ranged from the equivalent of about $40 to $500, which meant that very few Chinese citizens could afford them, and prompted Mick's sarcastic quote above.
-I played 3 hours of live NL Hold'em last night, and finished down $235, thanks to a poor decision which resulted in my inability to release a hand that was clearly not best. I also played a few pots in fine form, which was a positive, at least.
-Bobby Bracelet is raising funds in memory of a friend's battle with cancer. If you'd like to support him, you can find the details on his web page.
-Oscar is recovering from Colitis - an infection of the colon, and he's got a bunch of new toys. Here's a picture of him pouncing on his cousin Gustav.
-A few precious days remain until I'm officially "Old." Tonight's forecast calls for "Severe drunkenness, with an 80% chance of feeling like crap tomorrow."
Thursday, April 06, 2006
If you aren't watching High Stakes Poker on GSN, you should be. Last week, Phil Hellmuth joined the game, prompting Danny Negreanu, stuck 700k, to cheer up visibly in his chair, as he exclaimed "I didn't think I'd have a chance to get even, but I didn't know you were coming - how much money did you bring?" Danny later explains that Phil is what's known as a "yum-yum" - a player they LOVE to have in the game.
So, why do these pros love having Phil "NINE TIME WSOP bracelet winner" Hellmuth in their game? Because he's a pussy! If you're going to play high stakes no limit poker, you cannot be a pussy.
In one particular hand, Phil, holding 6-8 (the Vortex!) gets all in against Barry Greenstein (holding K-T) on a T-6-6 board. Phil asks the dealer to hold on for a second, as he counts his chips. Danny, eager to try to get out of his $700k hole, says "What are we waiting for?"
Phil replies, "I was told I could get insurance."
"You can run it twice" Todd Brunson chimes in.
"Insurance from WHO?" Danny is practically laughing now, in shock.
"Barry will insure me." Phil replies.
"Sure," Barry is quick to grab free EV when he sees it.
Now Sheik chimes in something, and Phil retorts, "I'm rich Kid, I want to stay that way."
Now let me explain: Phil was a 90-10 favorite. He knew this and Barry knew this. Phil proposed 10% insurance on $100k of the $160k pot, which means he pays a 10% vig, and locks up his reduced equity on a portion of the pot. In this case, they basically take $100k out of the pot, and Phil gets $80k, giving Barry $20k. They then deal the turn and river for the balance of the pot. So, long story short, Phil gave Barry $10k in EV to reduce his variance. And he wonders why he gets no respect in the game?
After playing in the wildest game I've ever seen, the Mirage Six Sigma Sunday game, I had numerous discussions with my poker peeps about the willingness that a poker player should have to seek out positive EV situations. My question was getting down to the essence of "If I have AT suited, and my maniacal opponent is moving all in every hand, shouldn't I be willing to call off my $1000 stack with this hand that figures to be way better than average. The answer was "not necessarily," as there are many other factors in play, such as a) there was a max buy-in at the table ($500), which meant that there was some value to the fact that I had a bigger stack, and could potentially find a HIGHER EV situation to apply it. b) This is not "the long run" - this game could end at any time.
Essentially, I felt that if I figured to be a 3-2 favorite, and I wanted to call myself a poker player, I should be willing to commit my stack in this spot. My colleagues argued that to be called a poker player does not mean you have to accept every potentially positive EV situation offered - you have to consider the likelihood that you'll be able to find a BETTER situation with more EV.
Now, back to Phil. He was already committed in the pot, and flat out gave away EV. That is not something a poker player does. Ever. Especially if he wants respect at the table, and doesn't want the other players to repeatedly take advantage of his puss-itude by running him over for the rest of his life. Ok, there is some point where I will concede that the size of the pot would dictate that it would be acceptable for a player to puss out and try to lock up some of it, but in this game, $160k was NOT that size.
Hellmuth tries to defend himself to the wide eyed Daniel Negreanu, who seems like he wants to reach across the table and grab Phil by the neck, shouting "I can't believe you are such a colossal fucking pussy - and you call yourself a poker player?!?!?." Phil says "Ivey was giving me insurance all day - 10%, 5% even. All I had to do was call him and explain the situation." What Hellmuth is saying, I think, is that Ivey agreed to take Hellmuth's variance in exchange for a vig - Ivey wasn't even at the table, Hellmuth just had to call him up and explain the situation to him! Fuckin'A!!!! Hey Hellmuth - if you're giving away EV, call ME! I'll insure your hands you pussy!
Negreanu responds: "Of course he (Ivey) was - he's a smart guy - he'll take free money if you're giving it away."
The bottom line is, if Phil Hellmuth is asking for insurance on a $160k pot here, he shouldn't be in the game. By all means: run it twice - run it three times, chop the pot based on EV... But don't pay a vig for your puss-itude. And seriously: when the table runs you the fuck over afterwards, don't raise your hands to the sky and wonder why.
In this week's episode, Phil repeatedly made bets in the neighborhood of 1/6th the pot size or less... He bet $3k into a $16k pot... He bet $1k into an $8k pot... and more. Every time he was run out of the pot. If Phil is trying to set up his opponents so that he traps them when he finally makes a big hand, I would suggest he come up with a new game plan. He's not fooling anyone at this table, and the one time last week he decided to slowplay his QQ, he checked his way right into Jen Harman making a 1 card straight with her 8-4 offsuit, and lost the pot.
Of course, Phil finally gets fed up with being run over, and takes a stand with 6-6 on a 2-5-8 board when Barry puts him all in. Barry has a set of deuces, and Phil is liquidated AGAIN.
Nice hand sir.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
"The ease of creating and updating webpages with Blogger has made it particularly prone to a form of behavior known as link spamming. Blogs engaged in this behavior are called spam blogs, and can be recognized by their irrelevant, repetitive, or nonsensical text, along with a large number of links, usually all pointing to a single site."
Wow - talk about a fuckin' insult.... Irrelevant, repetitive, nonsensical. That hurts. So, in true un-American fashion, Blogger declared me GUILTY until proven innocent, and took away my ability to post! The other problem is, they ignored my desperate emails pleas (insisting that although I may be irrelevant and repetitive, I am most certainly NOT Spam!) for four days. Now, however, one week shy of my 30th b'day, I'm back. Certified Unspamified. Whitelisted. Phew.
I guess I can't write "Do not fuck with Phil Ivey" three times in a row, or some process thinks I'm spam. And the patented Bobby Bracelet self link technique is also spam-escent. Even though I post a lot of pictures of my boy Oscar, I don't see how those could be read as SPAM...
Bones was just about to start an uprising at his French bank, out of RAGE at my being unable to post and fresh ramblings - and believe me - you do NOT want angry Frenchies raging against you Blogger!
So, Phil Hellmuth will get another day of reprieve, before I mercilessly tear him apart in a post soon to come.
until next time,