Down in a Hole

Before we get to the impending bacchanalia and my pre-Vegas angst, an announcement:

I suck.

Oh wait, that wasn't what I was gonna write there. Pauly has the May issue of Truckin' up. I am again humbled to have a story included.

I know what you're all thinking, that I am somehow blackmailing The Good Doctor. A valid stance, but Not True. Seriously, who could extort Pauly? Do you think, with his copious output that there is something he's NOT telling us? I shudder to think.

Your favorite Michigan poker blogging brothers are also featured. All thanks to Pauly for his continued committment and support.

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I have always been of the firm belief that attitude matters. In all things, but especially in regard to gambling. When I'm white-knuckling, my world hanging on the turn of a card, the roll of the dice, my results are poor.

When I'm partying it up, immune to the inevitable swings, I usually do quite well.

PMA my high school Econ teacher called it. Positive Mental Attitude.

I don't have one right now. And goddamn if I just can't get rid of this cloud hanging over me.

Poker results have been for shit. Soul-sucking and constant. Bad beats, rotten decision-making, general suckery.

Which is how, incredibly, I find myself downcast, kicking at stones, even while on the cusp of this awesome fucking trip.

I feel like I just sat at a blackjack table and dropped $500 in an hour. The literal and figurative "kicked in the junk" all wrapped up into one.

The good news is, I HAVE dropped $500 at a black jack table in an hour. And I recovered. Forty-eight hours should be plenty of time to make a comeback. Not gonna play any poker in the interim though. Every time I try to get the vibe back, it just gets worse. More good news is that I likely won't be facing off with 87s if I make a big pre-flop raise on Friday.

You know what? I feel better already. This bloggy stuff is neato.

Gentlemen (and ladies), Start Your Livers.