Anyone found folding the hammer will be stoned.

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I have registered to play in the
Online Poker Blogger Championship!
This event is powered by PokerStars.
Registration code: 9023582
When I was about 7 years old my mom and dad put me in the car. I asked where we were going and they had some story that I don't remember. We pulled in the driveway of a typical urban split level house. I remember that the house was yellow and was on a hill. The driveway was somewhat steep. Around the house to the left was a gate that led to the back yard.
There is where I saw a dog and her pups. We were getting a dog. This was both exciting and troublesome at the same time. Gigi, our poodle had committed suicide beneath the wheels of a car just a couple of years before. Max, our Brittany Spaniel had become old and grumpy due to hip displacia and bit a neighbor kid that jumped the fence to retrive a ball or something. Max "ran away" soon after that incident.
So here I was, seven years old and looking at an 0-2 count in the dog department. The pups were half Elkhound and half Siberian Husky. I think my dad may have already picked out the one we were getting. I remember getting in the back seat. I was soooo excited. We drove over to my grandparents house to show off the new dog. She was black and silver and even at the early age she tried to curl her tail up over her back.
After a brief interlude inside with grandma and grandpa I was questioned as to the name of the dog. What? They were going to let me name the dog? Wow, I had never named anything in my ife that wasn't a stuffed animal. So I though about it for a while and came up blank. My dad suggested we take the nameless pup outside to potty. It was then that she provided us with a name.
The pup proceded to eat every one of my grandmother's tulip blooms. Tulip was a fine name for a dog.
Tulip grew up quickly. She turned out to be a great hunting dog, much to my dad's pleasent surprise. She would point and flush and on occasion retrieve. More importantly she save my dad's ass from a raccoon once. My dad was climbing an enbankment out of a ravine. Just as he got to the top and was about to put his hand down, suddenly Tulip went bolting past
him. He was about to grab a raccoon. Tulip was all of 45 pounds. Not a big dog. She battled with that raccoon and finally took him to the river and drowned him.
Tulip out lasted Daisy, our first pure-bred Siberian Husky that we got a short while later. Daisy was the product of a puppy mill of sorts and was born with mal-formed kidneys. She died after about 2 years. In 1984 we bought Shula, named for Don Shula. He was a big Siberian
Husky. Tulip an Shula were immediate best friends. Although Shula couldn't hunt, they did everything else together.
These were the days of kids and backyards. My friends and I were outside every night after school. We'd play kickball, wiffle ball, 500 and hide and seek. Tulip and her best buddy Shula were always there. Tulip was more than willing to engage in a game of tug-o-war. She would fetch and she really loved to have her belly rubbed. A very athletic dog she could jump and clear our chain link fence whenever she wanted. That was rarely. Most escapes were due to me leaving the gate open.
My favorite times with the dogs, especially Tulip were when my parents let them come in the house. Tulip loved to come in and watch T.V., get her belly rubbed and eat the automatic treats that come with being inside.
Fast forward to highschool. I am home less often as my afterschool activities include band, football and soccer. I have homework to do and girls to chase. But whenever I wanted, there was Tulip always ready to play. At this point Tulip had started to slow down. She was 10-11 years old after all. Iowa winters were to be spent inside on the cold nights. Soon every night was spent inside. This was both sad and a special treat.
Tulip would spend her days outside with Shula but come inside at night and sleep under the kitchen table. I was sad to see her not running and playing as much, but so happy when I came home after games or dates and she would be standing at the door waiting for me. I would usually get on the floor and pet her, of course rubbing the belly.
One night my junior year I came home from a date and Tulip wasn't at the door. She had been getting weaker over the past few weeks. I feared the worst, but I soon heard her stirring under the table. I told her not to bother. I pulled the chairs out and got under the table to greet her for a change.
Tulip climbed up in my lap and licked my face. She laid her head down and snuggled in to say hello.
Then she died, right there, in my lap.
I was my dogs best friend.
I call October 1st my poker anniversary. As that day
approches I like to reflect on the things I have
learned about poker and my poker cohorts over the past
year.
-Playing a three handed SNG with no Aces in the deck
is fun. Just ask the two guys I beat.
-Betting into a dry sidepot with only a draw is a
mistake, as well as bad mojo.
-Poker Bloggers are no friends of their livers.
-Poker is easy, as long as you're the best player at
the table.
-Poker players age 19-25 fall into two categories. 1.)
Asshole Fish 2.) Asshole Sharks.
-Iggy's blogger profile photo is a Patrick Swayze
headshot from 1989.
-Bad beats happen to good people.
-I suck out on people more than I'd like to admit.
-You need more balls than math to be good at no-limit.
-You need math than balls to be good at limit.
-I have more math than balls.
-TooloftheMan, BMac and Dimebag are good guys,
especially for taking all my shit.
-AJo is the most powerfull hand in BMac and Dimebags
arsenal.
-Cool people play poker and blog about it. Blogs ARE
gay.
-I love hand history posts. Especially mine. I read
them over and over again. No, really, I do.
-Poker bloggers like to drink <gasp> alcohol.
-Any group of people brought together under a common
interest will eventually have spats and tiffs. An
ideological split is inevitable. The 2-7 off is the
hammer. The 2-7 suited is not.
-Playing Ax suited is the biggest leak in my limit
game, that and cold calling 2 bets with second pair.
-I am better at ring games than SNG's. But I am still
okay at SNG's. I suck at MTT's. A year ago I was
best at SNG's, and sucked at ring games. I had not
played a MTT.
-PokerGeek has more of my money than any other poker
blogger. Iowa Pride.
-Dr. Pauly sold his soul to a poker room manager in
Chinatown in exchange for a "good run". Pauly thought
that ment he would never get the hiltons cracked
again. Instead he gets to bust hot movie stars, go to
Amsterdam and such.
-I like playing bad beat tables. People there gamble
way too much. I also play powerball. Go figure.
-I still don't know how to shoot craps. But I nod
knowingly when someone says "hard eight" assuming they
have seen my junk.
-Old men in the casino are either good poker players
or degenerate gamblers. The gamblers smell funny.
-Kids cut into your poker time.
-Spending time with kid > playing poker.
-My wife puts up with a lot of shit for my poker
habit. But she still rocks.
-To be a winning part time player it is critical that
you play one level below where you think you should
play.
-People have a lot of money they are willing to
through away to poker.
-Fish take great joy in handing out brutal beats.
-I take great joy in relieving assholes of their
stacks.
-I take no joy in bad beating a nice guy.
-Cracking AA with the hammer puts people on tilt. In
fact, cracking any hand with the hammer puts people on
tilt. Bluffing and showing the hammer is an invitation
to getting your ass kicked.
-I flop a set much less than everyone else.
-I never hit an OESD.
-The river is rigged.
-If I quit my job and played 8 hours a day I could be
a very good player. But I don't know if I could afford
the divorce.
-My dad is a fish.
-My brother in law is a 20 year old poker player. He
almost got punched by one of my friends.
-Frolf is dumb. Why don't you just play golf? or Holf,
thats where you throw the ball instead of hitting it
with a club.
-Badblood's guns are large. I wanted a ticket to the
gun show, but it was sold out.
-G-Rob is proof of liberal media bias. That and he has
big hair.
-If I wasn't married I'd be broke from playing poker.
-It is -EV to not raise with the nuts on the end.
You ever let poker make you feel like this?