You = chump. Good times.

Haven't written anything in a while. I don't have much to say, but here's what is going on.

I just finished up my financially best week of poker so far (I keep track of my weeks from Wednesday to Tuesday), but I'm not playing enough hours. So I decided I'd take today off, and then play my ass off for the next 6 days.

But Erm, who decided to devote his 2 week recovery from back surgery to online poker, keeps making money in tournaments. So, inspired by his success, I decided to enter a $50+5 Pot Limit hold'em tournament on PokerStars. I ended up busting out 28th out of 178 after almost 2 hours. I needed to hit 18th to make the money, but I won my buy-in back in a NL cash game I played on the side.

As an amusing anecdote, Erm originally hurt his back in college when I made his 6'8" lurchy ass sit in the middle back seat of Heath's tiny Saturn for the ride from College Park to the Baltimore Arena for a Terps basketball game. He whined that I should let him have the front seat because he's too big for the back, but I had called shotgun (2 other guys called "not bitch") and I sure wasn't backing down. When we got to the game, painfully gimpy Erm got picked to shoot a half-court shot for some prize. He awkwardly chucked a weak airball with the form and strength of an 11 year old girl. I felt much worse in the second half sitting next to the pathetic airball guy than I do now about the fact that 6 years later, he's under the knife. Good times.

After busting out the tournament, I was going to revert to my original plan to take the rest of the day off, but Erm talked me into a $20+2 sit'n go on Paradise, which I won. So I played for 3 hours today and won $80. Good times.

Last night around 2am, I had a craving for a cold beer, but I didn't have any. So after I finished that tournament, I ran to pick up a couple 6 packs. As I'm paying for them, the dude behind the counter gets this excited look and asks "have you seen that new punk undercover magazine?!" or something like that. "Fat Mike is working on it. It JUST came out!"

"Oh, cool man. Later." Yeah... why is he telling me this? Then I realized that I was wearing a T-shirt that says "pastepunk.com" and shaved my head last week.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I bought the shirt to support a guy I knew in college who ran that website, and that I have no clue who "Fat Mike" is. Maybe before the rare occassions that I leave the house, I should check a mirror to see if I look like a guy who got out of bed at 1pm and played online poker all day. Good times.

In conclusion, Samuel Adams Double Bock is good, but doesn't really go well with leftover broiled salmon and potatoes and writing a boring blog entry. But you're the chump who just read the boring blog entry. Chump.