Tuesday, August 16, 2005

My autobiography will start out "Call Me Doyle Brunson"

Just because I haven't shaved in 9 days, it don't mean that I don't know enough to play the Deuce Six suited. Every time baby. Every time.

I am in the small Blind with no callers back to me, so I limp in making a point to announce my weak status. Prick to the left of me raises. Just try and steal my blind. Now I am gonna let you get 6 bucks instead of three by calling you. (He could have at least let me seen the flop and then raised I would have folded almost anything due to his kindness.)

Now the Flop:

Five. Four. Jack. Now your in trouble bitch, cuz I got me a drawing hand.

"I check." I say.
"I bet you do." The plumpy prick retorts. "Raiser her up!"

To the Turn:

Something insignificant like a 9. He raises and I call like an idiot with 3 WSOP braclets.

Old Man River--( if only I could do sound effects.)

I need a three. And lo Jesus spoketh and the lord provideth a three.

I check. He raises. I re-raise. And then without bothering to check the board..he stammers out..

"I call."

He seems rather pleased with himself. That is until I flip over the 2,6. Then he is beside himself. He goes off on me like Courtney Love... Three days into Rehab.

"Just keep playing that 2..6 all day man." d

"Uh...I think I used up all my 2..Sixes for this year, but thanks." He says a few other things and I mention he might have seen it coming with my check raise, since the guy to his right shouted at my raise (as he called) "you got the straight?"

Kid Shark

1 comment:

foxxxylove said...

Why are your poker stories way better than the Card Sharks? Of course, he'd never play a 2,6 unless . . . uh . . . well . . . I take that shit back.