Buggy

There is a scene in the film adaptation of Dicken's "A Christmas Carol" where Scrooge, played by Alister Sims, is just about to be visited my his old business partner's ghost. Hearing voices, bells ringing where none are rung, he tries to convince himself that a piece of uncooked potato may be the cause of his hallucinations. For me, it might be a fast-food burger and fries, because I was certain of ghosts at the home game last night. Or, it may just be too much time playing No Fold 'em on Stars. net. Despite more than doubling up, it was less than a stellar performance.

It has been a couple months since I have played live poker, let alone for cash. Money has been a little tight, or rather, with the prospect of replacing the truck in the near future, we are reassessing our cash flow. I drove to the game trying to shake off a little dread.

I was second to deal and forgot to burn a card before the flop.

I played 3c6c from early position, turned the idiot end with callers, slowed down but there was no showdown with my value bet.

Value bets ruled the night, not because I was playing correctly but because I was afraid of coolers.

AK > AQ on a KQx flop and I'm worrying the guy who led out preflop had KQ. I did manage to get it all in good but I had just lost a hand with a bad kicker, so I was down to 2/3 of my buy-in.

Crazy Pineapple hand and I flop Queens over Kings, and I'm worried someone has Kings. They don't. My chicken shit bet sizing worked perfectly to keep a guy in with his Broadway. Bully for me.

Pot-sized bet on a dry flop when I have KK.

Value my ass.

I'm yawning and I can't stop. The time is crawling. It takes forty-five minutes for us to orbit once in an eight-handed game. I blow another deal. All I want to do is go home.

So, I do.

Today I have been tired all day. More excessive yawning. All I want to do is sleep, and have done a fair amount of napping. I have the chills. I shit my brains out just a while ago.And now I remember: I turned the compost pile yesterday in order to bury a diseased raccoon I had to shoot. No, I didn't touch the animal. I turned the compost.

It's the same every time. There are organisms at work that make that pile of shit and grass steam.

And I sure the fuck don't want to play any poker right now.

I'll be fine in the morning.