Or you’re out in the 'hood, scoring some weed and—never mind, I’ve said too much.

The Madcity No-Limit Poker Invitational is taking place again this
coming Saturday. If you played at the last one, call me on my cell to
reserve a spot.

I’m not some unschooled savage, so I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I take a breath, try to become one with the universe, and…go for it.

Yeah, I know this bad boy is a little over two weeks late, but I was in Las Vegas, taking care of my poker business, the week after the game, and I’m typing this while I’m sitting in Blenz, a Vancouver, B.C. coffee shop, coming down from a day that started in a scary-ass SeaTac motel, went through Seattle [props to the Emerald City, currently my third-favorite city in the world], and ended up with my walking for what felt like at least fifteen miles, but which I was informed was probably closer to five. Whatever; it felt like ten.

It was probably one of my worst performances ever at a poker table. In fact, Bert, inventor of the Bert Death Spiral and the meatball sub, and Jesse commented that I wasn’t playing like myself. Great, you know you're really sucking when your competitors are worried about you.

Updated 10 July 2005! 

Complete Results!
Commentary!
Lame Jokes!
Exclamation Points! 

Then I meet up with Bert, inventor of the Bert Death Spiral and String Theory, and check into the Excalibur, where I do all of my poker playing and where I'll be staying through Saturday morning. Look for me, I'll be the one full of existential despair.

It’s Here If You Want It: My thinking on the situation is this: If you can’t hang with the varsity, then, by all means, go play with the junior varsity. That’s what the j.v. is for. If you're scared of the deep end of the pool, then have fun splashing around in the kiddy pool, but don’t talk shit about our game.

Thank you, Gorgeous Man With the Actor Voice Who I Wanted to Dislike But Couldn’t, for being classy and for commenting on the nature of my testicles.

Cloutier hit a nearly miracle flop for a gut shot straight draw and
then, when he was almost dead, he got the gut shot straight on the
river. Zoine looks like he wants to vomit, wet himself, cry, have a
heart attack followed by a stroke, all at the same time. He has
suffered a motherfucker of a bad beat, and at the worst time.