I played poker badly at Badblood’s last night. The drive down is getting easier and seemingly shorter. Blood introduced a great new set of clay chips. They played much better than I. On several occasions I was not thinking about who I was up against and/or not trusting my reads. It cost. I did get lucky late and finished up about $50.
Table conversations:
- Douchbag Marital Moves – aka bailing a friend out of jail.
- Boy parts? I need more Doritos!
- Having our own personal WSOP on-site reporter
- Darvin Moon is the worst player ever to make the final table – What? He’s still in?
- Stina with a winna
- Gary Gary the faux fairy
- Date night poker at Badblood’s
- The teller at the Sphinx convenience store touched my prostate.
My big lesson on the night: When you notice and admit that you’re playing like crap, there is really nothing to tilt at.
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