Too much poker for one night. It's not often I'll allow myself to say that. In fact, if I didn't have to go downstairs to get the charger for my laptop I'd probably carry on playing. That's becuase despite the appauling run of bad beats (let me rant about them in due time) I've come out on top tonight.

Now I'm not one to moan, ah fuck it, of course I am. I'm a) a man, b) British and c) a good enough poker player to make himself look like a tit by saying things like "I can't believe he hit his up and down straight/flush/over pair" (although I don't think that many bad players could comprehend that possibility). I've just been feeling the wrath of the poker lords recently with lower kickers hitting, being out drawn by river chasers and my least favourite: having the board higher two pair to give me a shit kicker. And in the last game I just played, I lost count of the number of times three handed I'd get a walk with either A-A, K-K, A-K, Q-Q in the big blind, but find the guy under the gun raise me whenever I held junk. It was like playing on Absolute Poker or something. Really, the two guys I was up against just wouldn't go out. The blinds were at 250/500 and they held on to their stacks of 1/1500 for what seemed like an eternity.

But heaven forbid, I finished the job. It's made me feel good to know that despite the shit that gets thrown at me I can still get the job done. Hell, if my battery doesn't run out before I finish writing this I can check my progress on SharkScope. And I think that's a pretty good metaphor for life considering it's gone 4.30 in the morning. Fuck, I might have to re-read this whatever time I get up tomorrow afternoon to realise it's not all that bad. And sometimes in life I can do what I set out to do. Fuck, that red wine has got me all Disney!