Musical Poker

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Saturday, May 13, 2006

You know you're running bad if ....

In an effort to escape from my current fling with the negative side of variance, I present a blatant rip off of Duggle Boggey's idea, which was a blatant rip off of Jeff Foxworthies idea, which was a blantant rip off of someone else's idea.
So, without further ado:

You Know You're Running Bad If

You know you're running bad if you hit a straight flush and are convinced somebody has a higher straight flush, but you bet the hell out of it anyway, only to find out you were right

You know you're running bad if you walk into the poker room and the players at a table immediately clear a spot for you and offer to get you drink

You know you're running bad if you attempt to toke the dealer and they give it back to you, saying "You really need this more than I do"

You know you're running bad if your friend of the opposite sex, who you happen to have, shall we say, "an arrangement" with, tells you she has a headache, even though the only other time she said no to a man since she was 16 was when he asked if they should wait until the second date

You know you're running bad if you find a twenty dollar bill in your car, get so excited you inadvertently speed up, then get pulled over and are given a $180 ticket

You know you're running bad if you are playing at the loosest table you have ever played at, yet cant hit any of your hands. You are finally dealt pocket aces in the big blind, and for the first time all night everyone, including the small blind, folds

You know you're running bad if you go out with friends, hit it off with the hot bartender, ask her to go out to breakfast with you after bar close, she says yes, and then you pass out at the bar 10 minutes before said bar close

You know you're running bad if you decide to shampoo the carpet for the first time in over a year, and within ten minutes your cat pukes all over it

You know you're running bad if you stop at fricken McDonalds for a takeout breakfast because you are on your way to work on a Saturday morning, even though you normally work nights, get to work, take out your hotcakes and discover that the sons of bitches forgot to put a plastic fork or knife in with your order

You know you're running bad if you see the clueless fish sitting at the table is happy that you sat down. To further prove you are running bad, he then sucks out on you in a pot and makes some smart ass comment under his breath as he smirks. You envision yourself going over and smacking him upside the head telling him "The next time you crack my set of Aces I flopped, by calling my bets all the way when you needed runner, runner hearts for your 10,2 to make your flush, and then gloat about it, I will pull you out of your fricken seat, beat the ever living hell out of you, knock all your teeth in, cut off your balls, and piss down your fricken throat." Not that I have ever thought that (Oh, and by the way, I havent noticed any anger problems that others seem to think I have since I quit smoking, have you?)

And finally,
You know you're running bad if you post a stupid ass post about running bad, hoping it will turn the heartless tide of variance


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