The Joint

"Did you hear Paris's sentence got cut in half?" I asked Mrs. Dynamite.

"Yeah - she gets to stay in some segregated 12 person unit," Mrs. D confirmed, but was clearly pondering something deeper...

"I wonder if she has to poop in front of other people?" Mrs. Dynamite asked me with an intrigued look on her face.

I returned a blank stare.

"Because that's probably the most humiliating thing in prison," she explained her logic to me.

"Umm, I'm pretty sure being forced to eat someones ass is worse," I lobbied.

"Fine - the worst system imposed thing," Mrs. Dynamite settled on.

That's my girl.

We watched The Departed last night. Awesome movie. Never mind the fact that any movie which showcases Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg's Boston accents will automatically be good (cases in point: Perfect Storm, Good Will Hunting); I think I can safely put The Departed in the top 5 movies of all time - brilliant plot, brilliant acting, brilliant directing.

-KD

Donkey

Warning: ACTUAL POKER CONTENT

So I fucked up, but I raked a huge pot... here's what went down.

2-5NL, $485 effective stacks. I've been at the table for 20 minutes, and haven't really played a hand.

After 2 limpers, I make it $40 to go from the cutoff with A-K. Lou cold calls me on the button, and both limpers call.

Flop: K-4-2, with two spades. I have the ace of spades.

I'm somewhat confused when the second limper (I'll call him Jerry) bets $350, to which the dealer responds "Raise." I'm thinking "that's a bet you fuckin' idiot - not a raise," and trying to figure out how to react to this massive overbet. Jerry is left with about $100 behind, basically the same stack size as me.

I decide there is no way he's open overbetting like this with a set - the only hand that makes any sense that beats me is 2-4. After 45 seconds, I move all in. Now Lou shakes his head and says "Now I'm priced in." He pushes all in for $550.

It's at this point that I realize Eric is still in the hand - and had bet out $150 to start this action! I turn to Lou, who I know, and mutter "I didn't realize he was in the hand!"

"Don't worry - he's mucking," Lou whispers.

"Lou, you don't get it - I thought I was reacting to a $350 open overbet - not a bet and a raise!" I whisper.

Lou laughs, and Eric, across the table, CALLS! He has me and Lou covered.

The turn is a red nine, and the river is an ace. Lou and Eric both have 2-4 for flopped bottom two pair, and Jerry had the flush draw that never got there. River suckout! SHIP IT!

Only Jerry seemed to understand the irony of the situation, in that I somehow completely missed Eric's opening bet. The other doucheballs at the table were like "yeah - top pair top kicker - you're committed."

I played one other hand of note - where TVEAK (TV educated Asian Kid) limps, I make it $40 with KK, Jerry calls, and TVEAK calls.

TVEAK bets out $60 on the flop of A-A-3 with two spades (I have the king of spades). I've played enough live NYC poker to know that it's about a 4 sigma event for the average player to bet out trip aces in this spot. I call. Jerry folds. The turn is the nine of spades. TVEAK checks his hole cards and bets $100 - leaving himself $225 behind.

I briefly consider raising, but realize he's not folding a better hand, and if I'm ahead, he's probably dead to one out. I call.

The river is a non-spade jack, and he again bets $100.

I throw my $100 call in, acknowledging "If you have an ace, you played it really well."

He tables eights and is SHOCKED when I turn over KK.

"How can you call me down with that?"

Well, because I'm a pro, and you're a donkey. That's how.

Pass the Sugar!

until next time,

KD

Home Again

Yesterday the Vortex and I made our triumphant return to the large scale NYC live poker scene. Using my 7 year old original Acepoint 3-6 limit connections, we gained entry to a new berry patch, and were tearing up a 2-5NL game before 4pm.

There was one guy at the table who thought he was the Captain, sitting directly to the Vortex's right, who was sitting directly to my right. Poor doucheball had never even realized he had the two toughest players in the room to his immediate left, even after I checkraised him off the best hand from out of position, and the Vortex made him lay down time after time. We let him steal the $20 pots, and raised/reraised him in the larger ones.

In one pot, after 5 limpers, I made it $40 on the button with AQ, aka, the NUTS. The small blind INSTA-called me, and set off a wave of callers - everyone came along for the ride.

On the K-J-5 flop, they checked to me in slow succession. I took a free card, which was a blank - and the aggro guy bet out $75. I mucked, and the SB called. They both checked when a queen came on the river, and I was surprised to see the SB show down J-9 for the winner. Now, I'd been playing tight aggressive, and casually asked him a hand later "If I bet the flop, do you call?" His answer summed it all up:

"Well, if YOU bet the flop, I might call, because YOU were the preflop raiser."

"Sure. Seems reasonable." I looked at the Vortex with raised eyebrows, and I swear I caught him drooling. "You'll come home, home again" I hummed, the classic God Street Wine tune, as I shuffled my chips and daydreamed about my soon to be winnings.

"I once was lost, but now I'm found," Vortex preached - as we both realized we'd found a new poker home.

-KD

Sprung

Spring has sprung, and the Odog, after a hefty vet bill and a shot in the ass, is back in effect, recovered from his gastro-ills.

I came across this fantastic youtube clip of Colin Cowherd comparing Yankee radio announcer Suzyn Waldman to the Nature Boy Ric Flair.

Speaking of wrestling - there's this clip of the Iron Sheik going ballistic at an autograph signing for the Ultimate Warrior - from this week!

I'm still trying to figure out who's a bigger cockchugging whore - Roger Clemens, or the Yankee fans. Did the Yankee fans forget that Clemens totally fucked them a few years ago after they threw him a retirement party and he then signed with Houston? In any case, it will be good for the Sox-Yanks rivalry, as Rocket is the Evil Empire personified.

If you missed this week's Entourage - do whatever you can to see it. Best. Episode. Ever. It's about Ari trying to negotiate a last minute deal on Yom Kippur. Great stuff.

-KD

Happy Hour Hero

Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I just haven't had anything to say that was worthy of bumping the Dogs Playing Poker custom artwork from the top spot on my page.

So I'd already heard from Big Show, who was in Vegas for the perfect storm collision of NBA All-Star weekend, Chinese New Year, and Presidents' Day, that the city was an absolute shitshow that weekend. Now, MGM CEO Terry Lanni commented on Mirage missing their quarterly earnings estimates, "The gang-bangers and others who came for purposes other than attending the game, they weren't very good for Las Vegas." Great stuff. He added, "In talking to our casino hosts, a number of people stayed in their villas and suites. They felt uncomfortable."

In other words, the NBA entourages and fans created such a hostile atmosphere that the Asian high rollers were AFRAID to come out and gamble! FANNNNNNNtastic.

Yesterday, we had another similar perfect storm of events: Drinko de Mayo (a retarded holiday made up to give people who have no Mexican connection at all an excuse to drink margaritas at 10am,) the Kentucky Derby, and the Fight of the Year - Mayweather-DeLaHoya. My observations in New York, however, are that no one was afraid to go out and party.

Interestingly, walking through the uber-hot Meatpacking district on my way to dinner and my second consecutive moe. show, it seemed as though the City was strangely subdued - almost as if everyone had crashed and burned earlier - passed out in the wake of early afternoon Patron shots.

I had the opportunity to see moe. live this weekend. Twice. This was an aggressive proposal, considering that I'd never seen the band before, and had only limited exposure to a few live shows of theirs. They were playing a 6 night run to open a brand new venue within walking distance of my apartment - the Highline Ballroom - a 700 capacity general admission area, roughly 1/2 the size of Irving Plaza. My hopes were dimmed somewhat by a failed voyage several weeks earlier to check out Umprey's McGee for the first time. I felt like the crazy old dude at the concert, surrounded by a sea of kids aged mostly 16-23. Rony and I weren't standing there for 3 minutes before some plastered 17 year old asked us to buy him beer. No thanks. Umphrey's percussion-centric jams didn't do it for me, and I kept the faith that moe. would be better.

Friday night's show was awesome - but I had barely recovered sufficiently by Saturday night to properly pollute myself again. In any case, I recommend checking out moe. if they come to an area near you. And yes, the band's name is m-o-e-period, in case you were confused.

Mrs. Dynamite won the "best text message of the year so far" award, with last nights simple message: "Oscar just took a shit on the carpet in the bedroom!!!" I was at dinner when I got this message, and burst out laughing, immediately thinking that Oscar was exercising some defiance and protest over the bath we'd given him earlier that afternoon - but it turned out he was sick and undergoing some serious gastro-distress. He spent the rest of the evening following Mrs. Dynamite around and rolling over submissively onto his back whenever she looked at him - clearly upset at what he'd done. She even took pictures of the pile of crap on the rug - but I'll spare you those for now.

until next time,

KD