Yesterday was rough on the old ticker, as the Astros managed to piss away another game, and I managed to donated 1/2 a buy-in to my fellow gamblers of the world on Interpoker. First poker. I was 2-tabling on Interpoker for about an hour. I felt pretty good to start out as I was treading water for the first 20 minutes. Then I won a huge 16BB pot heads up when I turned the nut straight. But, as Ms. Variance loves to do, she slapped me silly and I left torn and shattered.
I did manage to have a guy "flirt" with me while I was playing. You see, on all but one of the sites I play on, I have a female name. It's a pretty cute name though. So I think that this guy was feeling sorry for me as I kept loosing pot after pot. I feel flattered and also slightly dirty. Does that make me gay? No dude, it's that you sleep with men that makes you gay. Ah, I see. By the way, I AM NOT GAY, so don't get any bright ideas Cameltoes.
And now to a brighter thing about yesterday: Bud Selig. I just have one word to say: #$%hole. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Making the Astros open the roof is freaking ridiculous. You don't think the fact that he's a LIFELONG White Sox fan had anything to do with it, do you? Nah. Couldn't be.
I came really close to shedding tears watching Game 3 last night. The Astros are trying really hard to gift wrap this Series. I'm almost numb to it now. As I was moping about this morning, my phone rings. It's my sister saying that she knows somebody with a ticket. I liven up a little bit at the prospect of going to the World Series. I'm still waiting for the deal to go through. I feel like a drug addict, waiting to get his fix. Good grief.
Well, wish me luck. And wish the Astros for a miracle, cuz they need it. Keep on keepin on.
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