Three times in one night? I'm going to be sore tomorrow.

Ah fuck it. If there's a better place than their own blog for someone to brag about their skills at the poker table I haven't heard of it. Dejected and tired, and somewhat fed up of reading the same shit over and over and over again, I decided to fire up a single table sit n go. One last roll of the dice for the night. That and after the annoyance of going out ninth (top six paid) in the last game and the horrendous drunk session I had last Thursday, my bankroll seriously needed a kick in the right direction. And it got just that. Woo hoo! Back up to the major league level that is $100, I can feel a degree of pride for having a three figure bankroll again.

Notes to self for future reference: Don't play like a twat. Play the game to win it, not to try and win as many hands as possible. Don't play drunk. Don't play tired. Don't play games unless you've got time to commit to the end. Don't lose concentration at the final stages. And don't cry like a baby when you make a stupid move and luck doesn't go your way (re: last post to some extent).

Right, time to sleep. Too much to do tomorrow to be on here all night. Ah fuck, half three? I can be up and at my 'desk' for twelve. Easy.

Eye off the ball. I took my eye off the fucking ball for two seconds and just threw away an hour's work. The poker hand mentioned in the last post came from a 45 player tournament. I had just made it to the final table, mainly by playing tight and aggressive and paying more attention to my text book (and this blog of course). But final table time, time to switch on. I turned open my book and got all of thre sentences in to a new chapter. I look up. Pocket eights. Middle position I raise (blinds: 200/400) to 1800. One caller. The flop comes J-2-6 rainbow. I think about it for a minute. He wouldn't have just called with Aces/Kings/Queens. Jacks highly unlikely, that would warrent a reraise to avoid a danger flop. A-K, A-Q, A-J or a pair lower than 10s. I shove, he calls and has me covered by about 1,000 with KING FUCKING JACK. What the fuck is he calling big pre flop raises with that shit? I don't hit either of my two outs and I'm out. Incensed, enraged, but I've learned a lesson. And they're worth cash. If not a currency.

Over a week without a post? Yes, my life has got increasingly boring in these past few days. (Phew, Jacks held up against A-K all in pre flop.) Anyway, I write this post lying in bed with the window wide open to allow the smoke to drift into the cool night air. I don't want my room smelling of smoke now do I?

I'm reading the joyous subject of gender politics for my dissertation and acting out the role of the 'masculine' in one form or another (there are many forms of masculinity that negotiate with each other and blah, blah, blah) by playing poker (a very manly past time) and smoking Marlboro reds (real Cowboy killers). Plus I'm eating what is possibly my first ever cuisine creation (not that manly a thing depending on your social circles), the 'Triple Cream'. It's basically a Jacob's cream cracker with double cream smeared on top (one and two is three, get it?). Hardly a snack that the girls will be running for. Running from more like. And if anyone's asking, no I'm not stoned, there's just nothing in my kitchen. Barre some cream and some crackers.

Skipping to the point as to why I decided to get my sorry ass to Blogger: I've just come straight (via the intro blurb) from my Hotmail where I've just emailed one of my tutors. What caught my attention was the user specific advertisements that appeared on the page. Now having written to my tutor about my dissertation (on poker in a roundabout way), I wasn't surprised to see an ad for William Hill's casino website. The matter of the source of how they know I'm a sick sad gambler is another thing. Did they read my email? Did they check my cookies? Do they know that I've got Full Tilt Poker running? Either way they've got me hook, line and sinker as a target demographic. Nice one internet for invading my personal information and selling it to the highest bidder. Too bad that information on me you got (male, twenties, gambler...) also applies to the other ad you threw upon me. Too bad I've already got a fucking TV License!