I’m not a tourney report writer. Grubby is good at that. So is Pauly. Me, I’m a trip report writer, which sucks when I’ve just taken second place in a True Poker multi-table tournament. I didn’t take a trip. I sat here for hours while my back slothoki turned into a giant monkey fist and I let some chump (actually, he was a helluva player) take first place. Now I’m all jacked up on adrenaline and testosterone. It’s almost 2am. I have to get up in five hours for a very important court hearing. And I can’t move fro this chair.
It’s at this point that I quite seriously asked myself, “What would Pauly do?”
Unfortunately, I have no frame of reference. I’m southern (by marriage anyway), he’s city. He just went to Vegas, I haven’t been in seven months. He would have something interesting to say here. Damn it.
The True host wouldn’t let me and my opponent chop. I didn’t belabor the point because I was trying to keep up with a flurry of raises, check-raises, and the ever-feared check-yo-mama-raises. Note to all opponents: I always fold to the check-yo-mama-raise.
Now, I’m a few hundred bucks richer than I planned to be before bedtime. My manparts are screaming, “Parlay, my good man. Good show! Parlay it!”
But, I’ve seen and experienced the folly of Parlay Penis. It always ends up with a better part of my manhood on the felt and a giant Lorena Bobbit avatar looming over it with the Hammer.
Still, I just sat down at a $4-8 (6max). The Parlay Penis assured me it will be for just a couple orbits.
Hand 1–56o. (checked pre-flop, folded to one bet from SB)
Hand 2–45o (did not complete)
Hand 3–K6o (folded pre-flop)
This sure doesn’t feel like a parlay attitude.
Hand 4–Q4h (folded pre-flop) A Q and 4 come on the flop. Parlay Penis slaps me in the stomach and calls me a wus.
Hand 5–26o (fold pre-flop)
Hand 6–86o (fold pre-flop)
Hand 7–96s in unraised BB, flop open ended straight. Miss it, but catch pair on the river for the win.
Hand 8–TT runs into an ace and flush on the board. I have to fold.
Hand 9–AT on the button, raise to three callers and miss.
Hand 12–AT UTG…um…call. Three clubs hit the board, my ace is a club which completes the flush on the club turn. I, the damned chaser, win.
That’s two orbits and I’m nearing the point of having to go to bed and the wife is threatening to cut off my parlay attitude.
Sure wish this had been a trip.