Y'know what the best thing about poker isn't? Gather round, i'll tell you a story. It's almost funny.
I go into this tournament, it's called the US Daily. There's 119 compeditors. If you dont know what the daily is, you needn't concern yourself.
First hand, i'm small blind, and i get 59 off-suited. I fold it. Everything is going according to plan.
Second hand, i'm on the button. And i get pocket rockets, the ol' Ace Ace. Following the blinds, there's one caller, and another guy bets 150. It swings around the corner, and there's one call. It gets to me, and i'm thinking that i dont want to lose all my money on one hand, so i play it cool. Or at least as cool as rockets should be played. I bet 700.
The blinds fold, natch, and the innitial 150 bet goes all in. At this point, i'm hoping for the fold on the part of the other guy, cause i dont want to be battling more then one person here. The less people, the safer i'll be. The guy at the corner folds. It's all gravy. I call the all in.
He's got cowboys. KK, the second best hand in hold'em. Luckily my aces are lining up as the first best hand in poker. Flop comes up Q97, and after a small startle with seeing the face card, i gather myself, cause i'm still okay. Turn is a 10. River is a Jack. He's got a king high strait, and i take a seat finishing 118th.
Heh, and as if i'm supposed to finish this post on a high note, i just got an email from pokerroom.com. I've lost enough money to earn myself the $10 signup bonus. Maybe i'll go play some 25-50 NL.
Some people think poker is a disease, but i'd say only as much as obesity, and sometimes it's really fun to eat.
8. I just dont get it.
Do we find it easy to count in base 10 cause we have ten fingers? That would be odd reasoning. But it's really one of the only things around working with a ten. Time has alot of twelves.
8 sideways is infinity.
man is 5, the devil is 6, god is 7.
Two Perfectly.
Big shout out to dave, he's the new gay hairdresser in town, and he's damn good at it. If you play your cards right, you might be able to enjoy a rye and water while the work is being done.
Happy Birthday Aine. May you always jitterbug to your heart's content.
I had a very poetic thought at work this afternoon. I was moving some bags of black earth, and my hands got quite dirty. I thought to myself, "I want my arms stained from the sun, and my hands stained from the soil."
Live the love of the now, and let forever take care of itself.
I thought of something somewhat poetic at work today. I was moving a bunch of black earth, and my hands became dirty with the soil, such that my fingerprints were outlined in dirt. And i thought to myself, "I want my arms stained by the sun, and my hands stained by the earth"
Live the love of the now, and let forever take care of itself.
I thought of something somewhat poetic at work today. I was moving a bunch of black earth, and my hands got fairly dirty, such that i could see the dirt tracing my fingerprints. And i thought to myself, "i want my arms stained from the sun, and my hands stained from the soil."
Live the love in the now, and forever will take care of itself.
I possess both pencil and brush.
This is not a recording.
Something sort of related, which i like, is that the earth kinda goes through that color cycle from the inside out. Lava is red, soil is a transition from red through brown and yellow, some things, like wheat, and deadish grass, grow yellow, while more healthy grass grows green. Trees have brown trunks, and grow up into green leaves. And of course, our sky is a delightful blue. We're dealing with the whole spectrum here.
One day, i'd like to get sort of a color bar, which goes through the ol' roygbiv, and i'd like it to be fairly long, and i'd like to hold it up to guitar frets, and try and decide where i think it belongs, in terms of what color the notes are. All cultures of music have the octave in them, and they also have certain notes within the octave that are significant to that culture, in north america, we separate things by half notes, but in some places music is played with quarternotes and such. I think notes get more 'solid' and acoustically pleasing when they reach different full notes, and i'd like to see whether or not colors will matchup right on schedule. Like when a red both brightens and fades and finds itself rounded into a perfect orange. Maybe that's the same ratio of change from an A to a C.
The only thing holding me back is gravity.
by the way, party on saturday. That's tomorrow. My house.
I bought sketches for my sweetheart the drunk. It's the recordings that would've made up Jeff Buckley's second album, which was to be called "my sweetheart the drunk". But due to his life being cut short it's sort of in pieces of unfinished works. Sketches, if you will.
In the album cover, there are a bunch of writings by jeff, shown in his hand writing. And whether it be my pride's fault or not, i imagine my writings being similarly enjoyed as i've enjoyed jeff's. I'm going to throw a couple of these writings down now, both mine and his. Most of mine are not linear, i should note. His are.
"They will accuse me of stealing from my father. They already stand in baited judgement, waiting for my first move, waiting to dump their loads of garbage upon me. I face them like the man he never was and say "The only thing i ever stole from my father was a fleeting glimpse!!"
- Jeff Buckley
"Numb to the sounds and smells of yesterday, witness to the trial of hope vs. destiny." "In the day when all prayers are entirely selfish, will my God still chose to help?"
- Simon
"Our suffering is peeling off and revealing a brand new skin, a new power. Love heals all wounds and not just time alone."
- Jeff Buckley
"Every once in a while for some glorious moment everything makes sense and I understand. Lucky for me, the feeling always quickly goes away, or else I'd have nothing left to search for. I feel sorry for those who think they know what's going on day in & day out."
- Simon
"My imagination was left to science. Poetry and passion turns to rhyme and reason, with no breadcrumbs to lead them back. I wish the clouds didn't look like clouds anymore. With eyes of a child I see love, but when i look for love I just see empty space. I've got to believe that it's just music, that it's just rock and roll."
- Simon
"I dont write my music for Sony. I write it for the people who are screaming down the road crying to a full blast stereo. There is also music I'll make that will never-ever-ever be for sale. This is my music alone, this is my true home; from which all things are born and from which all my life will spring untainted and unworried, fully of my own body."
- Jeff Buckley
"Your eyes are the window into your soul, and your face the most beautiful curtains i know."
- Simon (i wish i wrote this about someone. "spoken with the devil's insincerity." - Simon)
I'm having a party on Saturday. I haven't done the best job spreading word, but i'm certainly expecting that i'll have a good time. I work till 5, i'm going to be drinking from about 7, maybe alone, maybe with others. A large crowd is certainly welcome, although not entirely expected. So everyone who reads this should come, and should invite people. But lets keep our expectations low or non existant, so we can together rise above them.
See you saturday. Bells. Bells. Bells?
So, another eventful saturday night spent playing cards online. I've lost $14, went all in with a pair of johnnys, got called by an AK, flop showed AKQ, turn was an ace. Clearly the last card didn't matter.
Still up 5 on the original investment though, so i can't complain too loudly.
I'd rather be sad then bored. I'd rather be in pain, then feeling nothing. I'd rather get my heart crushed then simply exchange smiles with another billion girls this week. I'd rather be lying in the hospital bed next to an injured friend then showing up during visiting hours. I have not suffered enough. Real pain cannot be self inflicted. I have not suffered enough.
On friday i stood in the water at brackley beach and when i wasn't moving my feet i could not feel the water. I could feel the separation of the air and the water, but there was no difference in the sensations on either side of the water level.
I dont know whether i'm living or dying, rising or falling, unfolding or fading away.
I spend too much time trying to figure out God's intentions. Things happen, and i have some desire to know why. Slave to thought or love's embrace. Slave to thought. slave lave live love lie.
Wouldn't it be weird if life was ending? What would you think if life was over soon? Is it wrong to look forward to the end? Look forward to the day when we can be judged, the day when we can see what we are? Ideas of the Is. We are ideas of the Is.
I am an idea. I am a color and a shade. I am a density and a position. I am a face and a time. I am a sound and an instrument. I am two hands and a heart. Unfold.
If ignorance is bliss, then does heaven leave us in a state of complete ignorance? Would we even know we're in a good place? Would we know anything but a constant state of euphoria? A constant state of blissful passionate flow? I mean, it's heaven, i'm sure it's not bad, but i dont know what i think about never having a thought again. Maybe rocks are blissfully ignorant. I dont envy rocks.
I see three dimensions of truth.
I dont know how many i can feel.
I am going to sleep on it.
I think learning from your mistakes as opposed to your successes is pretty ideal. If you can stop your mistakes from fucking with your confidence, then you're pretty much set.
It seems like there's some situations that i walk away from thinking that there's something more i could've done. I'd never be happy for taking the steps i did take, rather, i'd be disapointed in the situation that i chose to leave myself in. Go farther. Go farther. Go farther.
Fight the short attention span.
I go into this tournament, it's called the US Daily. There's 119 compeditors. If you dont know what the daily is, you needn't concern yourself.
First hand, i'm small blind, and i get 59 off-suited. I fold it. Everything is going according to plan.
Second hand, i'm on the button. And i get pocket rockets, the ol' Ace Ace. Following the blinds, there's one caller, and another guy bets 150. It swings around the corner, and there's one call. It gets to me, and i'm thinking that i dont want to lose all my money on one hand, so i play it cool. Or at least as cool as rockets should be played. I bet 700.
The blinds fold, natch, and the innitial 150 bet goes all in. At this point, i'm hoping for the fold on the part of the other guy, cause i dont want to be battling more then one person here. The less people, the safer i'll be. The guy at the corner folds. It's all gravy. I call the all in.
He's got cowboys. KK, the second best hand in hold'em. Luckily my aces are lining up as the first best hand in poker. Flop comes up Q97, and after a small startle with seeing the face card, i gather myself, cause i'm still okay. Turn is a 10. River is a Jack. He's got a king high strait, and i take a seat finishing 118th.
Heh, and as if i'm supposed to finish this post on a high note, i just got an email from pokerroom.com. I've lost enough money to earn myself the $10 signup bonus. Maybe i'll go play some 25-50 NL.
Some people think poker is a disease, but i'd say only as much as obesity, and sometimes it's really fun to eat.
I dont like when i type up some things, then i read them and realize they're not worth saying. It kinda makes me wonder if most of my posts are like that. It kinda makes me think. And when i'm busy thinking, it's not hard to realize that i've been better off. Not like in years or months or days prior, just back to whenever it was that i last didn't think.
8. I just dont get it.
Do we find it easy to count in base 10 cause we have ten fingers? That would be odd reasoning. But it's really one of the only things around working with a ten. Time has alot of twelves.
8 sideways is infinity.
man is 5, the devil is 6, god is 7.
Two Perfectly.
Your hair... your tuff, tuff hair...
Big shout out to dave, he's the new gay hairdresser in town, and he's damn good at it. If you play your cards right, you might be able to enjoy a rye and water while the work is being done.
Happy Birthday Aine. May you always jitterbug to your heart's content.
I respect the choices of vegetarians. That said, i believe that i am worthy of having the fruits of the earth sacrificed for my tasting pleasure. Also, that was the best fucking steak i've ever eaten.
I had a very poetic thought at work this afternoon. I was moving some bags of black earth, and my hands got quite dirty. I thought to myself, "I want my arms stained from the sun, and my hands stained from the soil."
Live the love of the now, and let forever take care of itself.
I respect the beliefs of vegetarians. On the other hand, i believe that i am worthy of having the fruits of the earth sacrificed for my tasting pleasure. And on top of that, this is the best fucking steak i have ever eaten.
I thought of something somewhat poetic at work today. I was moving a bunch of black earth, and my hands became dirty with the soil, such that my fingerprints were outlined in dirt. And i thought to myself, "I want my arms stained by the sun, and my hands stained by the earth"
Live the love of the now, and let forever take care of itself.
I respect those who are vegetarians. On the other hand, however, i believe that i am worthy of having the fruits of the earth sacrificed for my tasting pleasure. On top of that, this is the best fucking steak i've ever eaten.
I thought of something somewhat poetic at work today. I was moving a bunch of black earth, and my hands got fairly dirty, such that i could see the dirt tracing my fingerprints. And i thought to myself, "i want my arms stained from the sun, and my hands stained from the soil."
Live the love in the now, and forever will take care of itself.
I am not just an interpreter. I am a creator.
I possess both pencil and brush.
This is not a recording.
I'd say that loud and quiet is the same as bright and dark. I was talking to dave the other day and i said that we can only see one cycle of color. When we hear, there's notes that would make up an A, 440Hz, for example. And another A woulc exist at 880Hz, or 220Hz. But with sight, it's not like you can see green another octave higher. When i was talking, it really just slipped off my tongue, and it almost slipped by me that it was the first time i came to that conclusion.
Something sort of related, which i like, is that the earth kinda goes through that color cycle from the inside out. Lava is red, soil is a transition from red through brown and yellow, some things, like wheat, and deadish grass, grow yellow, while more healthy grass grows green. Trees have brown trunks, and grow up into green leaves. And of course, our sky is a delightful blue. We're dealing with the whole spectrum here.
One day, i'd like to get sort of a color bar, which goes through the ol' roygbiv, and i'd like it to be fairly long, and i'd like to hold it up to guitar frets, and try and decide where i think it belongs, in terms of what color the notes are. All cultures of music have the octave in them, and they also have certain notes within the octave that are significant to that culture, in north america, we separate things by half notes, but in some places music is played with quarternotes and such. I think notes get more 'solid' and acoustically pleasing when they reach different full notes, and i'd like to see whether or not colors will matchup right on schedule. Like when a red both brightens and fades and finds itself rounded into a perfect orange. Maybe that's the same ratio of change from an A to a C.
The only thing holding me back is gravity.
Would anyone be interested in cutting my hair? I decided i'd giver 'er a chop, and i thought i'd just ask if anyone wanted to cut it, rather then making a trip to first choice. Previous experience would be prefered, although not all together necessary. I could deal with the scizzors and comb bit, but if it doesn't seem to be working that way, i might be willing to go with a frightfully short razor with a clip on it method. I figure if i do get a volenteer, i'll get it cut off at the party on saturday. Should be good for a shocker.
by the way, party on saturday. That's tomorrow. My house.
I've been writing things down at work alot. And i really enjoy doing so, it makes me feel like wherever i am, the creative juices have no need to stop flowing.
I bought sketches for my sweetheart the drunk. It's the recordings that would've made up Jeff Buckley's second album, which was to be called "my sweetheart the drunk". But due to his life being cut short it's sort of in pieces of unfinished works. Sketches, if you will.
In the album cover, there are a bunch of writings by jeff, shown in his hand writing. And whether it be my pride's fault or not, i imagine my writings being similarly enjoyed as i've enjoyed jeff's. I'm going to throw a couple of these writings down now, both mine and his. Most of mine are not linear, i should note. His are.
"They will accuse me of stealing from my father. They already stand in baited judgement, waiting for my first move, waiting to dump their loads of garbage upon me. I face them like the man he never was and say "The only thing i ever stole from my father was a fleeting glimpse!!"
- Jeff Buckley
"Numb to the sounds and smells of yesterday, witness to the trial of hope vs. destiny." "In the day when all prayers are entirely selfish, will my God still chose to help?"
- Simon
"Our suffering is peeling off and revealing a brand new skin, a new power. Love heals all wounds and not just time alone."
- Jeff Buckley
"Every once in a while for some glorious moment everything makes sense and I understand. Lucky for me, the feeling always quickly goes away, or else I'd have nothing left to search for. I feel sorry for those who think they know what's going on day in & day out."
- Simon
"My imagination was left to science. Poetry and passion turns to rhyme and reason, with no breadcrumbs to lead them back. I wish the clouds didn't look like clouds anymore. With eyes of a child I see love, but when i look for love I just see empty space. I've got to believe that it's just music, that it's just rock and roll."
- Simon
"I dont write my music for Sony. I write it for the people who are screaming down the road crying to a full blast stereo. There is also music I'll make that will never-ever-ever be for sale. This is my music alone, this is my true home; from which all things are born and from which all my life will spring untainted and unworried, fully of my own body."
- Jeff Buckley
"Your eyes are the window into your soul, and your face the most beautiful curtains i know."
- Simon (i wish i wrote this about someone. "spoken with the devil's insincerity." - Simon)
I'm having a party on Saturday. I haven't done the best job spreading word, but i'm certainly expecting that i'll have a good time. I work till 5, i'm going to be drinking from about 7, maybe alone, maybe with others. A large crowd is certainly welcome, although not entirely expected. So everyone who reads this should come, and should invite people. But lets keep our expectations low or non existant, so we can together rise above them.
See you saturday. Bells. Bells. Bells?
Blog this!
So, another eventful saturday night spent playing cards online. I've lost $14, went all in with a pair of johnnys, got called by an AK, flop showed AKQ, turn was an ace. Clearly the last card didn't matter.
Still up 5 on the original investment though, so i can't complain too loudly.
I'd rather be sad then bored. I'd rather be in pain, then feeling nothing. I'd rather get my heart crushed then simply exchange smiles with another billion girls this week. I'd rather be lying in the hospital bed next to an injured friend then showing up during visiting hours. I have not suffered enough. Real pain cannot be self inflicted. I have not suffered enough.
On friday i stood in the water at brackley beach and when i wasn't moving my feet i could not feel the water. I could feel the separation of the air and the water, but there was no difference in the sensations on either side of the water level.
I dont know whether i'm living or dying, rising or falling, unfolding or fading away.
I spend too much time trying to figure out God's intentions. Things happen, and i have some desire to know why. Slave to thought or love's embrace. Slave to thought. slave lave live love lie.
Wouldn't it be weird if life was ending? What would you think if life was over soon? Is it wrong to look forward to the end? Look forward to the day when we can be judged, the day when we can see what we are? Ideas of the Is. We are ideas of the Is.
I am an idea. I am a color and a shade. I am a density and a position. I am a face and a time. I am a sound and an instrument. I am two hands and a heart. Unfold.
If ignorance is bliss, then does heaven leave us in a state of complete ignorance? Would we even know we're in a good place? Would we know anything but a constant state of euphoria? A constant state of blissful passionate flow? I mean, it's heaven, i'm sure it's not bad, but i dont know what i think about never having a thought again. Maybe rocks are blissfully ignorant. I dont envy rocks.
I see three dimensions of truth.
I dont know how many i can feel.
I am going to sleep on it.
I find it somewhat interesting that there can be forty or so people in a small place like baba's, and they can all spend the same 2-3 hours there, and all have completely different experiences.
I think learning from your mistakes as opposed to your successes is pretty ideal. If you can stop your mistakes from fucking with your confidence, then you're pretty much set.
It seems like there's some situations that i walk away from thinking that there's something more i could've done. I'd never be happy for taking the steps i did take, rather, i'd be disapointed in the situation that i chose to leave myself in. Go farther. Go farther. Go farther.
Fight the short attention span.