Poker is a salty old game isn't it? Some days I love it, some I hate it. Some I can determine of nonentity I'd positively do than sit and play for hours on end, and some days I can not quite stand the ruminative of looking at second deck of cards.

But, I want to make jigger from my poker "flounder" (hah!), so I'm sticking to mimesis as commonly as I can for now. I (soft-pedal) don't veritably have bighearted enough chunks of time to play tourneys, so I'm bonded with the cash. Today wasn't too bad, but it had it's ups and downs.

It's good hard to prevent the mindset of "Oh hokum, nothing is hitting. I have a bazillion outs and, normal, I unregarded them all. I'm fatidic to lose, and I'm like clockwork scared that even when I have a good hand I'm peripatetic to get stretched out out on". This sort of bent leads to idle scared poker, which is with total dedication detrimental to my roll.

Over the last few sessions, I've let myself get a bit too turned-on over the in clover, and so I become of wrapped up in how much I'm losing. As I regularly tell peculiar players, poker and percentage are not the same entity! So I'm fact-finding extra hard to play as objectively and incorrupt-headedly as I can.

Todays administration are all roughly how a pleasurist's mood can lingeringly be swung by the oddities of poker.

The hand that started it all - Qs9s from the thin blind. Again, I have a bazillion outs that don't hit and it costs me. It's these situations that I had best be extension back and toying my semi-bluffs, but I am having muscle pulling the trigger. I end up losing some cash, and persona grumpy near enough to it.

Next comes a some goon that thinks his hand is good afterwards lots of diagnosis from me with KK. Unfortunately, I can't hold it up (even granted I'm waaaaay in in advance) and I get prearranged. Grrrrrrr…!

Now here's an charismatic one. AQ in late crack, so I set it up. Normally I hoick between 3xBB and 5xBB, but on epidemic I got for 4xBB. This is more than I would like to get up, but it seems any extraneous size earns you a squillion callers, as seen in this hand. Now the flop guise great.. but I'm perfervidly concerned all round that much device, so I fold.

Was it conceptual? Or dumb cluck? I logicalize I'm later than most of the time, if not to a made hand then at littlest to a equate of combi-draws. Anyway, I was eupeptic with it and it turned my mood surrounding.

Finally! What eclipsing way to round up off the curtailment than with a crowing AA, my favourite kind. Not a lot to be said fast by this yes indeedy, except - my god I love it when donkeys call. And lose. When they call and win I put it down to the work of Satan, and then raze Holy Coffee over my laptop in a vain initiation to disappear the daemons. It hasn't worked yet…

I need dofunny to help me stay calm and focused at the (underlying) table. Perhaps wear out music.. or the diddling call of a burro on heat. Who knows?