Did I really want to go out though? I mean I had just handed over two weeks rent to play a poker tournament – a feat that some would already describe as borderline insane – and I also felt like a lukewarm Death sitting at the table so it pained me (even more) to think about how I’d feel if I was making shapes on the dance floor. I still had a gigantic hickey on my neck which I wasn’t all to pushed about displaying for all to see and even at the poker tables, despite my best efforts to cover it up, the players were asking did I get hit by a sliotar in the neck. How I wondered if anyone would have believed me earlier on in the week if I had told them that rather than the by now tired excuse of an allergic reaction to aftershave. Anyway, I’m kind of going off on a tangent. This post is about the homosexuality of poker and that’s what I intend on talking about!

The tournament itself got off to a duck arse start. We got a 20k starting stack and 30 minute blinds with all the levels included which meant that nobody was in any rush to go anywhere. I lost 2k at my first table when I missed a few combo draws but changed gears on my next table to build up to close to 30k. This was without getting any massive hands but I was able to value bet effectively and managed to induce the odd bluff here and there. My first big hand of note came when I had just been moved back to my initial table after a few levels. We had just sat down after a break and the table was half empty. I called a raise with A8 and flopped two pair. I called a bet on the flop and raised the turn and river with the river falling another ace, giving me a house. I seemed to have a very rocky image at this table which was proven when I had someone fold Kings to me preflop for the very first time ever! Half of me is still in disbelief that someone could possibly fold Kings preflop but when Dave Tutty raised to 1600 and had another player push in for 4.8, I grabbed my bundle of green 5k chips and reraised to 24k. Dave thought about it for seemingly an age before folding what I assumed to be something like TT or JJ. The guy who pushed had been tilting with a bag of spanners, all I remember is that I hit my set on the flop and he was drawing dead by the turn! Even just thinking back on this hand has me shaking my head in either disgust or disappointment – I can’t quite figure out which and at whom it’s directed! Maybe Dave can shed some light on this sometime?

I continued to accumulate over the next two hours until I lost half my stack by calling a river bet on a straightened board in the hope of chopping it only to be shown a gutshot that had got there. Suddenly I was below average and the possibility of going out in Waterford was once again reignited. I really did feel like shit though. I was shivering like mad in a room that everyone else was complaining was a sweat box and my eyes felt like needles were being probed into them when I looked at anything that resembled light. Even in my lethargic, nigh-on comatosed state, it didn’t take me long to surmise that strobe lights and pints wouldn’t be the solution to all of my problems. Although in saying that, it hasn’t stopped me in the past! I realised that even if I did get knocked out and got the last bus into town, I’d probably just collapse onto a bed, sofa or any surface that could possibly support my weight and not stir for a good twelve hours. So, given that I had now got it into my head that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Forum, I decided to dig deep and try bring what little A-game I have to the table.

I went relatively card dead for a while, and managed to keep my head afloat by raising anything remotely connected from late position as I tried to use my tight image to pilfer the blinds. It was working quite well until Colm Reville was moved into my buttons big blind. His blind is stubborn enough to attack on a normal day but it gets even trickier when there’s 20 pints thrown into the mix and when he has the perfect reshove stack of 15BB’s. So I practically postponed the pillaging of the blinds exclusively from late position and started stealing from other areas of the table, targeting some of the other tighter blinds sitting at the table. A big hand for me came when I found QQ under the gun and raised it up to 3.5 times the big blind only to have Ray Kent reshove from late position for what was about 15BB’s. I made the call and he had JJ which didn’t improve meaning I was now up to 97k, just above average!

Not long later, Billy Fitz opened in early position to 14k and I found AK and reraised to 40k. Action went back to him and he shoved for not a whole lot more. Even if he had enough to make an effective 4bet shove, I’m always snap calling Billy in this spot as I’m always a run and jump ahead of his range. He had A8, which (I hope) is the very lower part of his range here. My AK held and I was now one of the chipleaders as we approached the bubble for the final table. The Fox really came into his own here and subtly played up this fact. He was hovering below average himself but urged everyone not to go crazy on the bubble – while stealing left, right and centre of course . He was directly to my right so I was really losing out as he was always getting into the pots first and my small blind also found its way over to him on a few occasions. I did manage to get most of them back though when I got two streets of value from second pair against him.

Fast forward 15 minutes and we were on the final table with 5 players going to get paid. I was third in chips. We lose a player on the very first hand with blind on blind action. AQ for the small blind and AA the big blind who was about to become a monstrous chipleader. I steal a few hands with Ace-rag before picking up AK and having a shortstacked big blind shove over my raise. I call and am racing against 22 but I never get off the line as the flop falls 2-3-3. I build my stack up once again over the next hour as the entire table seems to have died until my good mate Ollie St John limps his button, even though he’s shortstacked. The small blind, who’d been playing very well, decides to pounce on this and shoves. I’m lucky enough to look down at KK and snap it. Ollie passes Ace-8 face up and the small blind sheepishly turns over T-4o. It’s all about timing in this game and he was just extremely unlucky to run into the card rack that I was becoming! I hold and knock him out.

Play continues at a snails pace until I pick up QQ in mid position and make my standard raise which is just under 3 times the big blind. The Big Blind is the same player who shoved with the deuces earlier and he once again shoves. He’s even shorter than the last time we tangled after losing a big pot a few hands earlier and his shove doesn’t even cover my raise! He has A4 and once again my big hands hold. We’re now down to 7 players and I have around 200k. Two hands later and I look down at AA for the first time in the tournament. The chipleader raises from early position to 20k. I reraise to 80k and then the small blind shoves for 128k! I nearly jizzed in my pants Lonely Island style when the chipleader announces that he too is all-in! I fist-pump-jizz call but little do I realise that absolute carnage is lurking around the corner!

So I’m all-in, in a three way pot that makes up over 60% of all the chips in play, with aces! The small blind has JJ, the chipleader has KK. Paul Warren then says that he folded KJ! It’s then that I make the mistake of thinking about the money – €2.2k for the winner, €1500 for second. With 60% of the chips, I could comfortably blind out to second and still ought to be castrated as punishment for not taking it down. I’d been running extremely well all day and apart from the one brainfart where I called off half my stack over three streets in the hope of chopping a pot, I’d also been playing well. I honestly can’t remember the flop. What I will remember though, and I swear I’ll have it with me for life, is the pre-pubescent screeches of delight and the pounding of the table from Vinny as it came down Jack-shit-shit fuckity fuck fuck! FUUUUUUUCCCCCCK!!!! If there was any consolation to be had from this it’s that of the only two fucking outs in the deck, it was the one that didn’t force me to run down Main St and dive off the pier that did indeed fall. So I suppose I can be thankful for that at least. This hand just encapsulated Poker’s homosexuality for me. No game should be allowed to be so gay. It’s just wrong.

I was still left with 120k in chips though and with blinds at 5k/10k, I still had room to play. As a tournament blogger, I witness bad beats for a living so at this stage I just shrug them off and comment on their sickness before getting back to business. I chipped back up to 220k without much difficulty as play had slowed to a complete crawl. It was then that it was suggested that we just break the bubble there and then. There were 7 players left and only 5 due to get paid. We were playing for 10 hours at this stage so we agreed on taking a total of €400 off 1st and 2nd and giving €200 to 6th and 7th. The game was suddenly on steroids and two players were eliminated in quick succession. I then knocked out Ollie in 5th when he shoved from the small blind into my big blind. I saw an Ace which made the call easy and a Ten along with it which made it even easier. Ollie had actually picked up 77 so was unlucky for me to actually have a legitimate hand as I was probably calling there with a whole lot worse. Needless to say I hit my Ace and Ollie exited in 5th.

When we were four handed, Fox was in an ideal position. He had a complete weak-tight nit to his left who was opting to play Mafia Wars on a laptop across the room instead of playing hands and he also had direct position on me and Fox isn’t afraid of the resteal if he smells a rat. Despite Fox being to my direct left or right for the entire tournament, we had avoided a clash thus far. That was until he raised the 5th hand in a row. He raises to 35k under the gun with blinds at 6k/12k and I make it 105k with A7 in the big blind. Fox’s raising range was incredibly wide at this point of the tournament and I hadn’t defended my big blind in a long time. I’m playing a stack of just over 215k so I realise that I’ve committed myself to this pot. And I’m not very happy about it. I also realise that I’m behind in this hand when he starts asking for counts. I try talking Fox out of it saying that I think I’m ahead and point out that I’ve already committed myself to the hand. After thinking for a while he just flat calls. I shove the flop in the dark for a half pot bet and it comes Q58 with a flush draw. He isn’t all that happy but calls with AQ and I fail to improve. I’m not sure if I’m happy with how I played this hand or not. I’m pretty sure he folds out all his better aces on the flop (AT+) and I think I did just enough preflop to make him think I held a pair. I’m not sure if he folds underpairs on the flop though or even if he just flat calls with them preflop. I finish 4th anyway for €520. I tip the €20 and am offered a lift back into town which I jump at.

It’s 3am and I’m hoping that I can meet up with people from The Forum who I assume are meandering back towards town at this time. They’re nowhere to be found though and the forum is deserted with the exception of some poor soul who’s slouched over a railing getting sick all over themselves, something which isn’t all that distant of a memory for me! I make my way back into town and find a few people but the majority are already gone. If only I had a phone that worked. I think I may as well put that €520 into my yearly phone fund just to be safe!

I had tonnes of drink left from a small house party earlier in the week and found a website called WebTender, where you simply select what “ingredients” you have and it lists all the possible drinks you can make! Some experimentation was in order and the ensuing hours consisted of me knocking back all manner of magical concoctions! I felt fine when we (thought it was imperative to point out I wasn’t drinking alone!) left the house, well, certainly better than I would have felt had I been drinking cans!

Cocktails have a way of making you forget though. They make you forget just how many you’ve had to drink and they make it all to easy to forget that they’re absolutely laced with alcohol!! One of the nicest ones I “sampled” had double shots of Vodka and Southern Comfort and was topped off with milk! It tasted like those old Mily Ice Lollies that were around years a go. So when I arrived at the forum, I was under the illusion that I didn’t have much to drink! So in what originally started as a way to save some money and try new drinks, quickly turned into a one-tonne night!

Pizza and Vomit. The only two things I remember after the forum closed. I remember the pizza because there was evidence of the meal deal I had bought beside my bed when I woke up… and stood in it! I remember the vomit because I tried to login and blog. Trying to focus your vision on something when all it wants to do is make everything blurry and distorted isn’t a smart thing to do. Even in my dunken stupor, it only took two visits to my good friend, the toilet bowl, to realise that blogging wasn’t happening.

Yesterday morning was one of those days where I vowed never to touch a drop of alcohol again. I’ll see you out next week!

Despite complaining to everyone who would listen that I was stuck behind a bar all day, it wasn’t all that bad! While being stuck making lattes, cappuccinos and frapamachiattes (okay, I made that one up) for customers soon lost it’s charm, I was able to make enough money in tips to pay for my nights out in the Forum on Friday, Saturday and Sunday! I was working all three days of the festival and managed to go out as well… for free! I like free!

All this fun comes at a price though! Whenever I go out, I have a horrible habit of waking up at 10am the following morning. While it’s sometimes nice to savour the beautiful morning air, it’s pretty annoying when you had just stumbled into bed in a sorry state a mere 3 hours beforehand! Going into work on Sunday, I was already knackered. I was due to stay on until 2am, but decided against taking a break during the shift so I could leave half an hour early and go to the forum. A great idea you might be thinking, but I can assure you that any idea or plan that involves not taking a break during the busiest day of the year and going out and getting hammered is not recommended, especially when you’re due in at 9am the following day!

Despite getting to the forum at 1:45, I managed to drink myself silly thanks of course to the generosity of the Waterford public (oh how I love them!). Crawling into bed at 6am meant I didn’t have much time to sleep! In fact, I managed to get an hour of sleep before 1 of my 6 alarms I had set started going off! I somehow got into work on time to find that I was stocktaking for the morning which involved counting every single bottle of beer in the bar. Just what I needed at 9 in the morning with the eyes popping out of my head!

If 8 hours of counting bottles wasn’t bad enough, I then had to face another 7 hours dealing cards in Dungarvan. I can tell you that it took a lot of Red Bull just to be able to remain concious and it took every bit of mental strength I had left to be able to do my job! By time I got home at 6am, I collapsed into my bed and pretty much fell asleep straight away. I woke up one hour later to the sound of the postman at the door who wanted me to sign for some DVDs that I ordered online about two months a go! Now that I was awake I decided to watch Eyes Wide Shut, an appropriate film for the state I was in but I don’t think I understood what was going on as I was so tired. The only thing I remember is that there are a lot of boobs in it!

So here I am, laying on my bed complaining about needing sleep! You’d think I’d just put down the laptop and rest my eyes and drift into slumber land, but it’s not that easy as I’m so tired, it hurts to close my eyes! If I stay away much longer I’ll soon lose what little sanity I have left!

First I think I’d better clarify what I mean by the title. You’ll be glad to know (or perhaps you aren’t) that I’m not calling you a fudge packer and I don’t want you to suck my cock but instead I’m alluding to a little altercation I found myself caught up in when I was out last week that involved myself, my friends and some random drunk who whipped his lad out in front of me in the middle of town at 4am! What happened next was a fusion of homophobia and double vodkas!

We first met Mr X on our way back into town from the Forum, the alternative nightclub in Waterford. We were a little bit later than usual because I insisted on us waiting behind for a girl I had met that night only to discover that she had actually left in a taxi to only God knows where about a half an hour before the place closed! I didn’t even get her first name which goes to show how good I am at pulling!!! Mr X made the assumption that because one of the guys I was with on the way back had long hair, that we were all gay. I’m not quite certain whether or not he was gay himself, but he did demand that we all suck his cock!

I managed to ignore him for the best part of twenty minutes as he followed us all the way shouting at us like the prick he was, in part I’d like to say that I have great self-control, but in actual fact it was because I was eating chicken and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let HillBilly’s finest chicken go to waste over some fucktard. Finding out that I had ate all my chicken in record time pissed me off enough, but then I look over and find this guy coming over, pulling down his pants!

Now I’m not sure if it’s because I was annoyed that I had ran out of chicken, or because I didn’t want some guy whipping his cock out in front of us but I dropped what little food I had left onto the ground, put my head down and speared him to the ground! That’ll teach that knob not to whip it out in public! Unfortunately for me, as I was doing it, I remember that I’m in the middle of town and look up to see a squad car speeding towards me, and around 7 Gardaí sprinting up to us! I attempt to flee – well, walk away – but I’m called back by one of them!

I look across and tardo is being bundled into a Paddy Wagon and driven off into the distance and I’m almost certain that I’ll suffer a similar fate! To my surprise, I’m merely quizzed for a few minutes about what happened before being told that I was lucky that they saw what was happening and was asked to give my name and number… not even an address! I’m given a warning and am send on my way. My friends can’t believe what just happened – I attack someone to the ground, in what would have looked like an unprovoked attack to anyone else and instead it’s the guy who found himself on the wrong end of a shoulder charge that’s taken away to the station! Of course I’m not complaining!

I got home only to find myself locked out so I had to resort to sleeping in the garden. I then woke up a few hours later with my head spinning and puked up an entire chicken fillet burger with a lovely garnish of bile and vodka! If that wasn’t bad enough, I woke up a few hours after that with rain pissing down on me! Karma works in strange ways though!

Anyway, while I was “dancing”, my almost brand new Atom Life phone slipped out of my pocket while I was in midair and came back down to earth with a crunch! For those of you who aren’t familiar with this phone, think of it as the perfect portable media player, the perfect texting tool and the perfect mobile internet surfer.. it’s a pretty decent phone too! The stylus (pull out tool for the touch screen) went flying across the dancefloor, but I didn’t give a crap about the worthless piece of metal and only cared for the €320 phone which upon closer inspection I found had its TFT screen turned into an illegible black and white mess! Sick!

I’ve sent off an email to the manufacturer saying that the screen slowly stopped working properly. Hopefully they’ll believe me, or feel sorry for me and will repair it free of charge. It’s well within warranty after all, but I suppose the warranty doesn’t cover me for it falling from about 6ft onto the ground! I’ll just have to wait and see!