I wake up in the afternoon at my Grandmother's house since I am visiting
and she asks, "How did Chicago go?" I inform her that I did well in the
tournaments and in the cash games but nothing is going to alleviate her
concerns that I may wind up a degenerate gambler until I bring home a
$50,000 to $100,000 score and smack it on the table in front of her.

Sure,
you can tell anyone that you've made well over the median income for
Americans this year playing poker. But, they're never going to truly
believe it until you win that one big tournament that verifies
everything and you get your mug plastered all over the poker news sites
on the internet. When that happens, that's when you made it.

Even if you've never demonstrated success in the cash games or even if
you take the 50k and blow it playing the higher stakes games in Los
Angeles, Las Vegas, or Florida. You win that one big donkament you're
officially a pro...forever. You grind out a 50k-150k a year income just
playing cash games you're nothing more than a degenerate gambler or a
guy who goes to the casino too much to most people outside the poker
community.

This is why I still lie to most people and tell them
that I'm in Facebook consulting when they ask about my profession.
They'll never understand that poker is a game of searching for +expected
value spots, then putting your money in or folding to avoid -expected
value spots, then your money is no longer at risk. Those of us that play
poker every day live a lifestyle that's unexplainable and these days I
truly believe it would be better to just tell your friends or family
that you sell meth.

The more and more I explain the game to my
Grandmother as well as let her watch me play some low stakes tournaments
on Bovada, she is starting to accept the fact that there is no luck in
poker, only variance... and how you react to it.

Henry Rollins
once said, "I do not believe in fate or destiny. I believe in various
degrees of hatred, paranoia, and abandonment. However much of that gets
heaped upon you doesn't matter - it's only a matter of how much you can
take and what it does to you.”

In regards to poker, I would
have to say that I do not believe in luck. I only believe in variance
and however much of that gets heaped upon you doesn't matter. It's only a
matter of how much you can take and what it does to you.

Most people can't take the variance.

It makes them tilt.

The tilt makes them play bad. The tilt makes them chase their losses.
The tilt makes them refuse to move down to lower stakes. The tilt makes
them put their bankroll in jeopardy and then the tilt finally causes
them to go broke. Variance isn't only part of poker, it's part of our everyday lives.

A painful result of variance can be seen everyday on my way to the
casino. It's the bum on the street corner. I often wonder, "Just what
type of variance did this guy go through in life? What was the final
straw that broke this camel's back and caused him to live a life of
begging on the streets?"

On other days like today I think, "Why
do I always see male bums? Is it because no matter how much time has
passed the woman by there's still some guy out there that will pay for
sex or a blowjob in an alley?"

Dark matters, I know....

Which one has the lower moral fiber, though?

The hooker or the john?

You tell me.

As always, I put a $1 in the bum's hand. It's the least I can do. The
Republicans will say that I'm enabling him and it's because of me that
people like him will not work. The Democrats will say that my donation
to the homeless man is good, it's because of people like me that he has
hope.

I will disagree with both parties and say the idea of the American dream is almost broken.
There's not much upward mobility left for poor/impoverished people and
the average poor person has a much better chance of being a bum, than
they do picking themselves up from their bootstraps and becoming a CEO.

I'm so happy to be out of the rat race and no longer have to drive
30-45 minutes to work each day crawling just like an insect to a
cubicle. The days where I was stuck in traffic was the worst. I am truly
blessed to be free and there's no man that walks on this earth that I
can't call a cocksucker because of my position at a job or workplace
politics.

I'd have to say that it feels pretty damn good.

So, I am happy to give a $1 to a homeless man.

For a second, I pretend to know how he got there...
First, he had to endure the unbearable weight of an education system
meant to destroy all traces of his free thinking, creativity, and
innovation. Second, he was forced to drink years and years of bilge
water pumped into his home through the television that showed him all
the worthless items he'd never get to own and all the places that he'd
never be able to see. Finally, after years of participating in the
popularity contest and a system that rewards only fear and obedience, he
could no longer take it and was crushed. It has to be something like that...right?

Nah, probably not...probably was just a product of his environment.

As I pull into the casino parking structure I hope he spends my dollar wisely and then I make my way to the poker room.
Today I sit down next to a man that looks like Santa Clause and goes by
the name Sam HHH. This man is an old skool hustler and nothing less
than a Detroit Poker legend. If you're ever in a poker room you can
usually spot him at the $2/$5 game wearing black old man sunglasses.

The first highlight hand of the day involves Sam vs a young kid wearing
a hoodie and Beats By Dre headphones. It's an un-raised pot and the
flop comes down 10s 4s 3h. That means there's two spades out there. So,
if a third spade hits on the turn or river they'll be a good chance that
someone has a flush.

The young kid bets out $15 into a $16 pot and Sam
calls him.

They go heads up to the turn which is a 3d.

The young man leads out another $35 and Sam quickly calls.

There is now $115 in the pot and a jack of spades hits on the river.

It's obvious that Sam was chasing the flush. So, it throws me off guard
when the young kid announces "All in."

Which Sam will have to call for
$300 if he wants to see what the young kid is holding in his hands.
The action is now on Sam and Sam says, "All in are you kidding me?
Common man. I got top pair. I got grandchildren you know. You want to be
taking my grandkids toys away man? All in man? Are you serious?"

It seems that Sams story has touched the young kids heart and the young
kid says, "Just fold. I got the flush. Make sure to buy your grandkids
something nice."

Sam says, "I'll fold. But, you gotta show me. I
can't trust you kids these days. You all really like to bluff. You
fucking with me man?"

At this point the young kid is completely
disarmed and Sam actually gets the kid to show Queen/Nine of spades for
a queen high flush.

As soon as the young kid reveals the Queen
high flush, Sam says, "Oh you bet I'll be sure to buy my grandkids
something nice. I call."

Sam then shows King/Five of spades for
a king high flush and then scoops a $700+ pot. Sam was simply acting to
see if the kid had an ace high flush, which he would have lost to and
therefore Sam's plan worked to perfection. The young buck had
been outplayed by the old goat and plays like this are what Detroit
poker legends are made of....just another victim for Sam HHH.

As the night goes on, the player pool changes, and eventually another
old timer sits down by the name of "Red." Red is a salty 74 year old
O.G. from Detroit and tonight's first topic of conversation from him is
what should be done to, "The sick/twisted motherfuckers who fukking with
the old people in the senior complexes."

Red went on to say
that if he was young and still involved in what he used to do that he
would be out prowling the town looking to put a cap in their ass and
when he did it the police would have no problem with it. He went on to
talk about, "Hood justice" and that's something I have no idea about.
So, I just listened to his stories and tried to understand the best I
could.

Later, Red and I started to watch girls walk out of the
club and through the poker room to use the woman's bathroom. This
happens all the time on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights
because there's an upscale lounge located right next to MGM Detroit's
poker room. Naturally, we get onto talking about females these days.

Shockingly, Red and I are able to find common ground on one issue.

We wonder why, "Bitches be all up in their cell phones and texting all motherfucking day?"

Red then goes on to tell me about how he had to throw a 28 year old
hood rat hoe out of his motherfucking house for texting too much and had
to get himself some new pussy. I return the favor and tell him about
the time I officially decided I was interested in a girl anymore after
she sat through a Henry Rollins spoken word event and texted the entire
time.

Red said, "Bet that hoe regrets it."

I replied, "Yeah. Probably."

"Good," Red says, "And I got a question for all you youngsters here at
the table. Why do all these young bitches be looking so skinny these
days? I mean look at that one walkin right over there. No ass, no
titties. I see it all the time. I mean what the fuck?"

"They're all on that molly Red." Says a young black kid at the table.

"Yup. On that molly and addicted to uppers like adderall Red, plus cocaine is making a big comeback in the D Red," I reply.

To which Red responds....
"Shit, man... what the fuck? You got this molly, you got this other
shit ketamine, you got that cocaine, you got that addarall...you got
these bitches that always gotta be high on some shit... I mean...what
the fuck? I mean... whatever happened to the days where all a bitch
needed was a blunt, dick, and a little money to get by... all these
young hoes now days have it twisted."

This story is post morterm because I died after that.