Bad Ass

From the latest issue of Wired:

Shockingly Small Change
It unleashes 10,000 megawatts of instantaneous energy …. [Inventor] Basura … usually focuses all that juice on a US quarter. When he does, the coin doesn’t melt or vaporize. Instead, with an ear-shattering crack, its molecules rearrange and nuzzle closer, shrinking the coin’s circumference to that of a dime.

You New Yorkers might also be interested in this one: Destination: Manhattan, 1609

My road. My spot.

I pulled up to Flower and Exposition and spotted a parking spot just across the intersection. Then I noticed the blue Honda in the first right turn lane maneuver her vehicle into the second right turn lane. I knew she wanted to go straight. There was an outside chance she also wanted to steal my parking spot. Well, we’ll see about that.

As soon as the light changed I zipped forward and slid into the space. As I Austin Power’d the car into position, I noticed the Honda with its right turn indicator blinking hovering by my spot while blocking the through traffic. The driver was saying something out of her window to me. I got out of the car.

“You took my spot. I was in the right lane waiting for that spot! You were all the way over there.”

She pointed vaguely at the middle of the road behind her.

“I was in the right-most lane that goes straight. You were in the right turn lane. There are two right turn lanes.”

“I know, I didn’t see that and then I moved into the other lane as soon as I saw the spot.”

Uh-huh.

Blue arrow is me, green arrow is her. Red arrow is the disputed parking space.

Well, I had somewhere to be. So I wasn’t about to move, and I don’t usually feel sorry for people too stupid to get in the correct lane. In fact, I think those people should be given a lifetime bus pass and stay off my road.

“What a gentleman. Why don’t you go back to your own country?”

Ha! Not only stupid, but a racist besides! I hope she gets mugged walking back to her car parked in BFE.

But let’s get back to the broader point, here. She was in the right-turn lane and instead of dealing with her mistake and turning right, or waiting until it was safe to merge into the through lane, she decided to force a merge into oncoming traffic only to stop just across the way. That’s dangerous. She risked injury and at least one hour of her time just because of her stupidity. Definitely a prime bus pass candidate.

The Cave of Time

Lately poker has been a lot of blah. And when I say lately, I really mean the past week. Or maybe the past few weeks. Not sure. Anyway, it was great when it was a procrastination tool. Not only could I avoid doing my work, but I was making steady profits everyday. But more recently I feel like I’ve sort of lost focus and as a result have lost far too many chips. I keep jumping from NLHE SNGs to NLHE to Limit HE to Razz and back again. Worse yet, I find myself chasing lost money or a big score and turning a small positive tally into a negative one, or a small negative tally into a larger one.

The only bright spot has been a couple of SNGs where I felt like I was making some good plays against weaker opponents, making it to first and second. I wore away at smaller stacks through consistent stealing, mixing in some folds in the SB and on the button to keep my credibility.

Unfortunately these finishes have been the exception rather than the rule. This style of play clicks on when I have a stack to work with, otherwise I’m just sitting there and folding trash hand after trash hand waiting and hoping for a big hand to come along. With the short levels on the Full Tilt SNGs, this just isn’t possible. You have to accumulate chips and can’t just wait for aces or kings to save your weak-tight ass in level 6.

But at least these moments of above-average play exist. I’ve been thinking for a little while now that I really need to hone my tournament play. I tend to gravitate towards the cash games since they reward patience, but it really does get boring as hell sometimes. Tournaments can be more fulfilling not only because of the big score, but also because of the overarching narrative. It’s not just one damn hand after another, but a chain of hands that take you from beginning to middle to end, where any missteps could leave you on that dreaded page where you get eaten by a prehistoric carnivorous plant. But there is a goal, and that’s where all the money is.

And of course with the Poker Shelly (FTP), the Poker Bob (PS), the Poker Joe (PP), the Poker Geek (FTP), and the Poker Nerd (PS) all wending their ways successfully through several tournaments in the past couple weeks, I can’t help wanting to tag along.

At the very least, this way I only lose $10 or $20 at a time, and not my freaking buy-in when I monkey-play my overpair against a flopped set.

So. I’ve got my Harrington on Hold ’em. I’ve got my bankroll. And I’ve got lots of bookmarks in case I need to go back and follow the other path. Let’s go.

Taking the edge off

Some of us have decided that the only way to get through our Wednesday afternoon class is by drinking beforehand. That’s why I’m sitting alone at a bar/lounge across from campus with an empty glass of Glenlivet, my laptop, and my copy of Harrington on Hold’em, feeling like life is pretty good. So where are all the other degenerate grad students? I have no idea. I guess I’ll have to order another scotch to keep me company.

Where’s my food?