Let's take a second to talk about tiny lil' azn girls in porn. You know when they sneeze and they get mucus all over the elephant's penis, and then the necromancer comes out and casts Unmerciful Bloodlust on your entire party? And then your video card overheats and your roommate comes in and tells you about his blog and asks you to crosslink him, and you're sighboxin' everywhere and wondering why no one has posted any comments on your recently posted Facebook album? Yeah, me neither.
...
Meh, I never was very good at mad libs (Shoulda picked watermelon instead of necromancer, ldo, what was I thinking?....). Anyways, short update: poker-wise, June sucked so hard that my computer chair got stuck up my ass. Even so, still a pretty solid month and a lot of knowledge acquired. Perhaps I will finally level up and be able to teleport to and from Quizno's. Life-wise, the weather has been shitty, but overall, everything seems to be okay. I'm probably gonna buy some new shit since I withdrew some monetary funds from Stars a week or so ago. Maybe I'll buy an Ovechkin jersey like I've always wanted.
I've decided that this blog is not personal enough. So, next update, I'm gonna post pictures of me from eight different angles, and I'll put up home videos of me and my friends.
Oh wait, no I'm not, fuckers. Why would I do that?
Yeah, that's right, reader, take that verbal abuse.
Anyways, I'll update this week with some baller-ass anecdotes and maybe some other shit like some replayed hands. Pop me with some feedback to let me know what you want to see.
That's a little ghetto gospel for you.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
"It is said that once an entire army marched against him. A real army."
Brag: The iPod I ordered from the PokerStars VIP store is finally here after a little over four weeks.
Beat: I didn't realize that I got a terrible FPP conversion rate on it.
Brag: Celtics won the NBA championship. Ship ship ship. (Ship.)
Brag: Russia into the quarters of Euro 08 over Sweden.
Beat: When I went to piss, my dick flipped up and hit me across the face and loosened a tooth.
Beat: I still don't have a million dollars.
Variance: I run multiple thousands of dollars below equity at flips lifetime.
Variance: I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch.
Other news:
Today I was sitting on a train and looking out the window. Shit was baller, I almost saw a blue car. Then the tides turned imo, and the train went underground, so I couldn't look at anything outside of the train when looking out of the window; I could only see the reflection of other shit inside the train. And so I saw this fat woman with a kid. I was like LOL bitch where'd you steal that kid, it's obv. not your kid, no one would fuck you. Except I didn't say to her, I said it to her reflection, so she didn't react. After this, the conductor (I generally refer to him as the master of the transportational arts) announced that the train would not be stopping at one of the normally scheduled stops due to construction or some BS he probably made up. Immediately, fatty's reflection starts freaking out. I look over, and fatty is freaking out as well. I'm sighin hardcore cause she opens her mouth and her voice sounds like speaker distortion (Shoulda gotten the warranty on your voicebox bitch!). She's throwing a fit because she supposedly needs to get off at the stop the trains not stopping at (Stippedy-doo-wop-stop-pop-pop). She's like "What am I going to do imo!" I resist the urge to say "What, what, in your butt." and recommend that she pull the emergency brake on the train right when it passes by that stop and kick out the emergency window and climb the fuck out. She seriously considers it for a moment and then decides (that she's too fat to fit outside the emergency window and...) that she will get off one stop prior to her original destination. I'm fistpumpin' all over the place because that means less time spent near fatty. Crucial victory afaik, thoughts on flop play?
Beat: I didn't realize that I got a terrible FPP conversion rate on it.
Brag: Celtics won the NBA championship. Ship ship ship. (Ship.)
Brag: Russia into the quarters of Euro 08 over Sweden.
Beat: When I went to piss, my dick flipped up and hit me across the face and loosened a tooth.
Beat: I still don't have a million dollars.
Variance: I run multiple thousands of dollars below equity at flips lifetime.
Variance: I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch.
Other news:
Today I was sitting on a train and looking out the window. Shit was baller, I almost saw a blue car. Then the tides turned imo, and the train went underground, so I couldn't look at anything outside of the train when looking out of the window; I could only see the reflection of other shit inside the train. And so I saw this fat woman with a kid. I was like LOL bitch where'd you steal that kid, it's obv. not your kid, no one would fuck you. Except I didn't say to her, I said it to her reflection, so she didn't react. After this, the conductor (I generally refer to him as the master of the transportational arts) announced that the train would not be stopping at one of the normally scheduled stops due to construction or some BS he probably made up. Immediately, fatty's reflection starts freaking out. I look over, and fatty is freaking out as well. I'm sighin hardcore cause she opens her mouth and her voice sounds like speaker distortion (Shoulda gotten the warranty on your voicebox bitch!). She's throwing a fit because she supposedly needs to get off at the stop the trains not stopping at (Stippedy-doo-wop-stop-pop-pop). She's like "What am I going to do imo!" I resist the urge to say "What, what, in your butt." and recommend that she pull the emergency brake on the train right when it passes by that stop and kick out the emergency window and climb the fuck out. She seriously considers it for a moment and then decides (that she's too fat to fit outside the emergency window and...) that she will get off one stop prior to her original destination. I'm fistpumpin' all over the place because that means less time spent near fatty. Crucial victory afaik, thoughts on flop play?
Friday, June 13, 2008
Guess who's back?
You do not know how lucky you are. I was so close (read: not very close) to quitting poker altogether. I had serious (completely serious) plans of becoming a chef so I could be exactly like that Ralph Pagano guy (except for the being from New York part. Fuck New York. I hate New York.). That guy is a fucking badass. Anyways, to avoid going off on a tangent*, I'm going to focus your attention on me. I'm awesome. I play poker, too, as you will see in future posts. As for now, just remember this: the man who thinks he can, and the man who thinks he can't are both right. Which one are you, son? Which one are you? (That's from a Nike commercial btw.)
If you are new to reading my blog posts (or if you have the Down's), I will be ranting about a lot of shit. I will also use naughty language. If you have a 13 year old daughter, do not let her read this blog (18 year old daughter = ship the phone number plz imo). I will rant about things that seem irrelevant. I will use vernacular unbeknownst to 98% of English speakers. I will seem ridiculous and insane at times. You will see flashes of my personal life, of my poker "career,"and of titties. (QFTitties.)
Prepare yourselves, suckas.
Vanq out for now.
*tangent = sin/cos
If you are new to reading my blog posts (or if you have the Down's), I will be ranting about a lot of shit. I will also use naughty language. If you have a 13 year old daughter, do not let her read this blog (18 year old daughter = ship the phone number plz imo). I will rant about things that seem irrelevant. I will use vernacular unbeknownst to 98% of English speakers. I will seem ridiculous and insane at times. You will see flashes of my personal life, of my poker "career,"and of titties. (QFTitties.)
Prepare yourselves, suckas.
Vanq out for now.
*tangent = sin/cos
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