Gettin Beat Like A Smoka Fool...

...cuz it's Friday. And if it's Friday, it must be another Friday post. This is almost becoming a Cheating At Solitaire tradition. Well, except for last Friday I suppose. But then, breaking tradition is also a Cheating At Solitaire tradition.

The last week has been something of a blur, with little time for poker and even less time for writing. Last weekend we finally opened The Mansion up for a housewarming party, which served double-duty as it was less than a week after my roommate Meg's birthday. It was a reasonably small and quiet affair, nothing like the kind of party I've been hoping for considering the size of the new place, but hopefully "housewarming" means we're just warming the house up for a bigger party. Of course, nothing got broken, nothing got stolen, and the whole thing was virtually messless, so I can't really complain. I spent most of my evening making sure that everyone was imbibing spirits at an appropriate rate. Especially Big Red, who was matching my Cherry Bombs (mmmm, RedBull and Three Olives) drink for drink all night. Apparently I was somewhat too effective in the case of my wife, who ended up praying at the porcelain altar for a few hours before reappearing briefly in her PJs. Apparently she couldn't even hold down water the next morning. I need to quit making her drink all the extra shots that no one else wants.

This week was Anniversary Week at the Mansion as well. Today is the roommates', so congrats to Chris and Meg on five years of putting up with each other. That's two years longer than I could have put up with my wife. Of course, that's mostly because three years (and a couple days) ago, Alice and I capped off three months of wading through Catholic red tape by kneeling in front of a senile priest in front of dozens of our closest friends and hundreds of her unremembered kin. For me, there are three Golden Moments that stand out from that day. First was my father-in-law-to-be and his favorite priest asking me if we could cut the music short and get straight to the ceremony. (My answer, to the strains of "A Tear For Eddie": "I had to take three months of classes to satisfy your requirements. You need to listen to three more minutes of Ween to satisfy mine.") Second was the glowing happiness on my wife's face when The Beach Boys' "Wouldn't It Be Nice?" started up and we realized that not only were we now married, but we could also finally get out of the church. The third is the image of Alice walking across Tower Grove Park (where we were having all the traditional photo crap done) in her wedding white so she could ask the Harley riders convention if one of them would let her sit on his hog in her dress for a picture. It's a great shot of her, I'll have to see if I can dig it up and post it.

Approximately twelve hours after that moment, we woke up hung over, under-rested, and late for our flight to Florida, prompting our first fight as a married couple. The good times have not stopped since. The third anniversary is apparently the Leather Anniversary. For those of you wishing to purchase us gifts, Alice requests restraints, a corset, or a riding crop. For my safety, it's probably best to get her the corset.

This weekend I have yet another excuse to keep myself inebri-wired, as I'll be across the river staying in a Holiday Inn with about 2500 assorted geeks, freaks, and Vampire Lust Bunnies. I've been going to Archon since I was a 16-year-old virgin with a Dr. Who fetish (I had it bad for Nyssa). These days, I can mostly do without the whole SF-fandom scene, but Archon remains a tradition amongst a good portion of my friends. Even if I don't feel the need to wear a rubber forehead or a 17-foot-long scarf (anymore), it's still a great excuse to go party at a hotel, and there's comfort in the fact that no matter what you do, you cannot be the most ridiculous-looking person at the party.

As for the obligatory poker content, we will be running the 160 Zillion Dollar Challenge (Special Con Edition) Saturday afternoon in the game room (at least until they kick us out and we have to finish up in the room). I'd like to get some pics and a brief report posted from the con, but I'm not sure how realistic that is.

And, since it will almost certainly be October before I post again, I should probably post an end-of-month recap. So, to be brief: September sucked for poker. Not as bad as August, in that I didn't drop 100+ BB or anything. In fact, I believe that I stayed just about even for the month, building back a bit of the bankroll with some bonuses but otherwise hanging even. However, the month sucked in that I didn't play nearly as many hands as I'd have liked, and those that I did play I didn't play well. I'm okay with my preflop game, but I've been making lots of rookie mistakes post-flop that I simply can't afford. I probably need to spend a few hours with PokerTracker analysing my results before I determine exactly what changes I need to make, but I suspect that I'm calling down too often with TPTK and not dropping pocket pairs fast enough.

In our next episode: Goal-setting for October, possibly some soul-searching on the subject of bonus whoring, and (maybe, finally) the long-awaited Big Announcement. Unless something more interesting comes up before I have a chance to write about that stuff. But really, what are the odds of that happening?

posted by Captain Freeman @ 3:55 PM