The Bai Hui Archives

Got home from Argentina. Many long and funny stories, blah blah blah.

Resumed poker 2 nights later. Lost $150 in about 4 hours.

May 17th or 18th continued with $150 BR. May 23rd up to $650.

Several sites, but statistics begin when I first sat, exclusively, at 10 & 25 NL/PL 10max Hollywood Poker.

21st May @ 10pm to 23rd @ 5pm (HWP):

8981 hands @ 7.75bb100 playing like a total mass-table nit.

Waiting for Everest account to be unlocked so I can deposit the rest and get a fucking bonus at last.

Mother says I have to get a "proper" job. Although she is totally broke and complaining about money due to divorce, claims she doesn´t care about me making money from poker. Says she "doesn´t want that kind of lifestyle" in her house.

May move in with grandmother next week -.-

Manually posted previous blog entries from ibsubaihui.blogspot.com coz I am awesome and you should read how awesome I am.

Click http://ibsubaihui.liquidpoker.net/ to view



PS: What the fuck are people rating my blog entry low for? It´s not supposed to be interesting or a work of art. If it´s quite obvious that a blogpost is not meant to be anything special, is just a few notes for personal use or whatever, leave the damn rating system alone and stop messing up my perfect score.



Update (3am May 27th)

19,287 hands @ 10.17bb100 // BR $1290

3 votes

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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The night air was warm and still. Marissa lay back against the withered chimney, her long auburn hair bunched behind bare shoulders like a sinewy pillow. "Like a dead animal", she thought as she nested her head into a comfortable position and with a delicate grasp extracted the last grey stump from a packet of cigarettes.

"Oh, J, J, J", she whispered. Smoke curled from her lips, arching and tumbling toward the skyline of perpetual city smog. "Why did it have to be monkeys, J? Of all the furry four-limbed little beasts you could have chosen, why the most uncontrollable, the most savage of them all?"

She shook her head and sighed. The shadows appeared to stir for a moment, as if a face had rotated to meet her gaze. Then another voice spoke out, softer and sweeter like that of a child, but with the solemnity of a monk in sacred prayer.

"Monkeys are cool, Marissa."

And there was not much more to be said. The mobs would disperse, the fires would die out, and those survivors with their doorsteps intact would find them visited by all kinds of official-looking folk with inquiring minds. This didn't worry the Duo, who were packing their bags before even the first police wagon could crash violently out of control. And in any case, the only doorstep they had was the armful of bricks Marissa had decided to throw at it.

The docks were generally quiet this time of night, but with fire already licking the horizon there was not a captain awake without some eagerness to leave shore. Getting onboard wasn't entirely smooth-sailing but, "A lesson is learnt with every passing obstacle!", as Marissa liked to say.

"Make them smile, then make them grin", she addressed her little accomplice with perhaps too much of a smile herself, before lowering the choking victim to the ground. They watched together as the man became a corpse, and then slipped it into the waters like some unidentifiable floating wreckage, or an abandoned gift wrapped in lace and adorned by a crimson bow.

And so the two companions escaped St. Ulta City, leaving the rotting homes and crumbling peaks to rot and crumble and goodness knows else. The journey was a rough one - Marissa made sure of that. She even sent her student on a few tasks of her own.

"Errowid, eh? Pretty name...pretty unusual at any rate", the sailor leered. It takes fifteen muscles to smile and unfortunately this crooked soul was blessed with none of them. Instead he extended a mouthful of the foulest green slabs, so littered in spots of yellow and brown it put Errowid in mind of the time she shat on the pavings at a garden party. There were even bits of moss in there.

"You must be a stow-away, right? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It can be our little secret." Errowid did not look worried. Her uncut, silver locks swayed in motion to the rocking waves. "Good girl, you're safe with me. Come give daddy a hug".

She took a step forward and frowned up at him, withdrawing a pair of tiny pink hands from the pockets of her robe. Her nails looked unusually long in the sparse candle-light of the cabin, and took on a metallic gleam that would put the knives of men to shame. The sailor didn't notice -

"But we simply must do something about your teeth," - until it was too late.

The screams were followed by a heavy thud as the man's severed jaw was deposited on the floorboards. Errowid peered back with the expression of someone with a job well done. The sailor stumbled backwards, clutching at his open throat, and collapsed onto a waiting Marissa. She shrieked in glee and bore down on his mangled remains, biting and gnawing with a bloodlust mirrored in ruby eyes. Moments later she dropped the twitching carcass with a cackle and grabbed Errowid by the arm. In an instant they were gone, leaving only ripples in blood for the sailors to fear.

1 votes

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Monday, October 23, 2006

How thou becomst, most unholy legions of sex? For it is in essence of the body that we embrace the adolescent craving of man, and not of the mind. And what thoust is it that separates the one from the other, but the wanting and reasoning of such that lends to a better self.

Lo! that love is without lust, lest there be no love at all, and that love of lust is indeed lust in itself. Verily know that love repeats not as the semen squirt'th, but as all eternal memories can allow.

1 votes

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Friday, October 20, 2006

My night-time dreams, an off-worldly spectator might consider, are always of some ineffective hope - a desperate journey or striving left unsatisfied by the unforgiving realisation of dawn.

I feel perhaps these are the dreams of all young men freshly removed from the turnstiles of education, and that the pink deep clouds of comforting solace belong to an era forever past.

O! to sleep idly within a cot of feathers, than to brave the staircase that may lead to a bedroom of thorns.

1 votes

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Sunday, October 15, 2006

There was one table running, the occupants of which ranged from forty to fifty years of age, with a single bearded anomaly who resembled Dolye Brunson right down to the sad, wise, unwavering glow of his eyes. I scrutinised each person carefully, with the meditative efficiency of a bee as it roams an exotic flowerbed.

"We're fucked", I said to Erik. A lone, full table of regulars - possibly some of the richest men in the district - stared back at us as if we were the very girls they might later purchase with our money.

After an impassioned wait we both sat down and bought in for the minimum 1000 peso. With an ante of 25 (there were no blinds) and a standard bet being at least the size of the pot it made sense to play safe and forget about raising non-premium hands. But this didn't seem to matter to most players and chips flew from stack to stack like silver between neighbouring magpies. After just three hands I had never felt more comfortable in my life.

By my 3rd Jack Daniels I'd won 1500 in chips and by my 6th I was up another 1k. A flopped ace here.. an overpair there.. As long as I didn't continue bet too much things were going swimmingly.

Well, inevitably the tides change, this tide in particular being the alcohol flowing through my blood. My opponents' habit of overbetting makes any mistake costly, and calling a river with ace high is simply idiotic.

In my final hand (stacks I can't remember, but they were large enough) I rather impatiently raised QJo to get one caller and a flop of Q55. This was an instant push and my opponent gaily flips Q5o; amidst a barrage of cussing scoops the pot.

"What the fuck was that? What the fuck are you doing? Queen five off? What the fuck?" I gave him the middle finger and promised I would be back for my money another day.

1 votes

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Saturday, January 28, 2006

It feels like I've made very little the few weeks since I last posted (I'm on about $2100 - will stop posting this amount now for security's sake). Four days ago I finally knuckled down to regular play, however a variety of (computer) performance issues have made me reconsider gametype and yesterday I switched from 9t on 2 clients to 5t 5max on Hollywood. This is awesome so far; very fast-paced and forces me to adopt a higher level of focus - if only to keep from timing out.

I'm thinking a little about the reasons I play this game, and the degree to which motivation affects focus and quality of play. I'm a bit of an apathist on the whole - have little to no ambition - I simply aspire to be content. And it's easy to make me content.

Obviously my game suffers from this, so it's nice that I often wake up with a lucid dream that reminds me of my inadequacies, and the things I care about, and inspires a renewed vigour. A strange way to find motivation, but I take what I can get.

In other news I discovered a program on PTrack forums called PRfetch. It lets you import hand histories from the pokerroom database without having to obs. That means I can open any table and instantly have all data on my opponents...magic!

By the way, Poker Tracker (coupled with Gametime) is one sexy beast. It opens your eyes to the significant differences between your opponents, and allows you to make plays you wouldn't have previously thought to be intelligent in full ring.

1 votes

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Thursday, December 29, 2005

just got back from the cinema. didn't see anything. walked round the shops for 30 minutes then watched everyone buy their tickets, sat in the car for another 30, and drove home. great. stupid family dinner. overtook 5 cars on the way there and back, pretty impressive for a rover metro in moderate rain/light ice

hit $1000 the other day. waiting for partypoker to unlock an account (taken 2 weeks so far, sigh) and for hollywood poker to cashout the $300 i made last week. 10nl 7-12 tabling hollywood poker, i recommend it with all my heart. too bad they have no rakeback, and force two big blinds per round; i might have been tempted to stay there. mm americans...yum yum.

tomorrow i guess i'll be ordering tracker at last. tried to get an old cracked version working yesterday, but release notes describe a whole load of bugs with prima, so i gave up.

i can't wait to start obsing 50nl. i will totally destroy them.

1 votes

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test

import isnt working for me =[

1 votes

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