43 Minutes

I busted at 10:54. I wanted to tell everyone in the poker room they were a joke. I wanted to break cards, break chips (if I only had any). I left my soft as hell game because, as I remember Daniel Negreneu telling Mike Matusow one time a million years ago, “You can’t play with napkins.”

Fuck you, Daniel. You lucky, lucky, hard-working self-promoting, seemingly OK dude…

I Smallville blurred my way to my car, almost hit a skinny little gangster kid on my way out of the parking lot- almost pulled over and helped him grow up when he looked at me like a tough guy, floored my way onto the 5 South, thought not seriously about smashing into the semi in front of me, got to the house I’m staying at, heated up some delicious leftovers of chicken and rice- devoured them, tried to fire up my laptop so I could spew my venom to the world, realized the battery in my mouse was toast, searched like a tweaker and found a AAA battery in a kitchen drawer, fired up my laptop, glanced at some new emails-

And at 11:37 I was over it. I had perspective again. I knew I’d be all right- despite losing when I really needed wanted to win. I was insanely grateful for my super small and super fucking amazing circle, for my kids, etc.

Not bad. Progress. Now let’s watch a movie, have a beer, sleep good and come out swinging tomorrow…

Much love to those who hated reading this. I’ll be fine though. Promise Watch.


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Categories Poker Life

4 thoughts on “43 Minutes

  1. Two years. That’s my prediction. Two years from now you’re going to be at the height of your powers – poker and life. Like Ali vs. Cleveland Williams


    1. Thanks man. I really hope to be a rec player by then (or not play at all), but I appreciate the spiritual lift for sure. Cheers.


    2. 2 years, is that how long it takes to truly break free?


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