I’ve been very bizzy lately with building the necessary sanitary provisions for the city so I forgot to post some reports of the most legendary homegame in town. But no worries, I made notes and will tell you everything about it now. Because the summer has begun, and the only other thing left I have to do now is to show my sixpack to the hot poepkes in the djembé-circle.

It was a few months ago when we had another legendary game. Eight people promised to show up, but the game started 4-handed thanx to all the gaylords who didn’t pick up their phones (eventually, we had a good 5-handed game). The Fat Kid was so confident of himself in this shorthanded game that he decided to start drinking from the start. The only problem was he failed to open the bottle of wine with the peteitescheller.

This evening was alltogether dedicated to the bloody fights between me and the Fat Kid. In  the beginning I was on fire, when I took a pot with 72 after the monkey even led out on the river with K high. To make him even more jealous, I told him about the meal I had: boomstammekes, potatoes and veggies with it, nicely steamed. Unfortunately, it was me who began to steam myself a few moments later. I made an all-in call with TT on a 7K7 board, while even the couple on the other side of the road in the emtpy room figured Quattro Cane-Iz had KK or AA.

That guy was however cheating like hell, cause some hands later he spiked quads again and acted like he didn’t have a pair. For me, this was the moment to enable my secret weapon: I passed one of my tasty cigarettes to the overbetting pseudo-pro. The result was unbelievable: he just gave me all his money and suddenly there were 32 bets on the turn before it was even dealt! It was like poker paradise for me from that moment on; the pseudo-pro talked about having smoked a garbage bag of weed and the fat kid mumbled something about an Ivan who had to return to Russia.

During one of the last hands of the evening, the Fat Kid gave me a staredown like he wanted to put a knife in my stomach and said to me: “I don’t fear the Ace.”. I called with the best hand and won a nice pot. Nobody threats Biscotti.

Now how does that sound as the new HBO series? Not bad if you ask me! I’m a big fan of The Sopranos, I can sometimes watch like six episodes in a row with some 40 hot dogs on the fire for the moments I get hungry. It’s also an ideal distraction after playing a couple of hours of poker on the net.

I think I would be a good maffia member myself some day and it would be great if I would get my own TV series then. But what did I notice the other day? I’m already in The Sopranos!! Tony went to Dr. Melfi and he brought her something. He opened the box and asked ‘Biscotti?’ That was so awesome man. So I started googling on sopranos+biscotti and guess what I found? Apparently Tony’s sister Barbara was played by Danielle Di Vecchio and she started her own bakery six years ago: Biscotti Di Vecchio!. Now I’m  so gonna order some cookies there.

What else happened in my thrilling life? Well, I bought a tremendous poster with six beautiful poepkes on it, all bodypainted. I have a picture for you:

But you think that’s all! Wrong! It has been told to me that each bodypaint represents an album of some rock group from the seventies.  Now how cool is that? Rock on babies!

It’s irreversible now: Biscotti turned 26 the other day. So the age of 30 is not at all far away now. And my age is already damaging my brain, my memory to be more specific: I forgot all about the homegame we had on my birthday. But then I found an old report on my desk about the last homegame we had at Quattro Cane-Iz and I realized I didn’t yet write about it.

The corruption was everywhere again in this illegal cardroom: when I entered they tried to convince me that the seating was already decided and I was placed next to the Iranian idiot from the Netherlands. I simply replied by going all-in on the first hand. They immediately realized they can’t fuck with Biscotti. Just when I was starting to get in the game, I told them about the horny grape I saw in the Colruyt (”she had wel iet”, as we say), they were trying to steal my button every time I was on it. That made clear to me it was time for my masterplan: I tried to mark the cards by dropping them in the ashtrey, but they noticed it.

From that moment on I concentrated myself on the quest for a Tipke for my big cigarette, while the invalid fatty was telling everybody some nonsense about buying a car with his redundancy bonus. That period proved the theory of the Roguish Buffalo: when you don’t search for a good hand, you’ll find it. I cracked aces by making a flush and I was very proud of myself after that hand.

But then I was confronted with the luck of the overbetting pseudo-pro. That guy spiked the first flush of his life that night, so I had to know something was going on. After I bought in for the legendary amount of 5€, I fought myself back in the game. I threw it all-in with QQ preflop against K5 from this moron, and the idiot made a wheel on the river. When the fatty said “Bye bye Biscotti”, I wanted to punch him in his face so the blood would pour out of his head. In the end I didn’t, but I’m not sure I can control myself next time in that spot.

Another homegame, another profit. Not as much as last times, but the winning streak of Biscotti is still alive: I DON’T lose in these games anymore. It’s all about paying attention baby.

I was perfectly on time this time and at 8.30 pm it was gameon! It all started reasonably peaceful (lots of limper’s pots), but while the fat kid was mentioning he would like to see the hamster of the girl next door, I lost a first big pot with AK, which I played like a moron against someone’s AJ. I simply had to know those guys overplay this kinda hands when an Ace pairs. Luckily I won a big pot when I flopped top set and filled up to a full house against the Iranian monkey. I have to admit he controlled the damage with his QQ, having a good read on me.

After that pot the circus had definitely opened it’s doors: players entered the pot on the flop (leading out immediately), checking after a double straddle and stating they had a royal straight. Mr. Miyagi even made a straddle on the button, LOL. But I also have to admit something in this case: this move was the beginning of his impressive comeback in the game. This in contradiction to Boatman, who wants to help me building houses, but maybe I’ll have to teach him something about variance in poker instead: a big overbet on the flop with JJ meant one of his scarce pots of the evening.

I was not able to build a very big stack the rest of the evening as I didn’t (in contradiction to Quattro Cane-Iz) catch a flush on EVERY board… But my six euros profit was enough to buy me some bingo scratch cards which brought me a profit of 20€ total! Oh yeah, one more hand to mention: I was very proud of myself when I played the 72, but I wasn’t man enough to play it till the river. Me catching a runner runner set of sevens would have been the result against two all-ins… But hey, after the game I had a good spierring at home, because that’s what I do. Biscotti FTW!

Hello you poker fellas and all the donks that come here to learn from my great plays. It’s going pretty well with Biscotti lately. I’m designing some great buildings with the best sanitary provisions that Europe has ever known. I’m fitnessing like hell to replace Bruce Willis in the next Die Hard movie. And I’m becoming a really rich motherfucker from all the online money I’m making at the pokertables.

After all the work is done and the gym is closed, I prepare myself some of the already famous Biscotti-meals, which have the amount of calories where you can feed an entire African village with. I get myself something sweet to smoke and pour in a nice glass of whiskey, which I can drink properly again after the recovery of my gullet. Then I turn on my computer and start playing poker online. When the night falls and the bad guys go robbing old ladies on the street, Biscotti goes robbing all the donkeys that are out there on the net .

Like yesterday, I made a $56 profit just sitting on three $.10/.20 tables. One hand was the best: I was holding T9 and on the river the board was 8 7 K 5 6, no flush possibilities. So I bet it and, I’m NOT kidding, this guy (we are both deepstack) reraises me. So I make a small reraise again, as I hold El Nutzo. And then he reraises me AGAIN! So I shove my last chips, he calls and shows me a 9! LOL ship it fish! I think I’m gonna spend some more nights at the Pacific .

Aloha everybody. Like you can already deduct from the jolly words of welcome, I’m in a good mood again. Why? Because I scored an official hattrick the other day, beating my homegame for the third time in a row. These guys really have no chance anymore sitting in a hand with me.

The line-up was promised to be enormous as a group of beginners were supposed to sit down with us. So I prepared my meal on time and took off for the game. But what did I see when I entered the room? Only four guys sitting down, with the two rocks, the iranian dutchman and some other fat kid which for some reason substituted the former one. Like they were trying to trap me or something. Moreover, they were trying to fool me by saying that it was the Iranian’s birthday. These guys really go all the way to disturb my concentration. But I didn’t fall for it and even the horrible music they were playing  (from Animals or something) couldn’t break me: I sticked to my plan of just waiting for the donkeys to walk in.

One by one they entered the room and I observed them like a tiger does with his prey. One guy was even so impressed by my staredown that he made a little impression of it while sitting on the table:

So I was sitting their with something sweet to smoke while the first pot evolved which reminded me of following the right tactics: the ‘birthday-boy’ won a pretty huge threeway pot with just middle pair (I can still hear his arrogant ‘King is good’). From that moment on it was basically three players ruling the table, all three waiting like raptors to eat a donk now and then: me, dutchman and the guy who was soon to be known as ‘Quattro Cane-Iz’ when he spiked quads against a full boat.

I was also able to let some guys pay me maximally while holding El Nutzo but the sickest pot was for dutchman, who looked down at his cards and before he had even noticed that it were two kings, three other players had shoved their chips in with AQ, KJ and 88. Always hard to see that bastard win a great pot, he’s even more annoying after that. Luckily this wasn’t the most heroic pot of the evening, because before Boatman went broke against the quads, he played heads-up against some of the newbies and that one put in €0.10 bet on the river into a pot of like 6€. Then Boatman minraised to €0.20, like in a real duel. The newbie called and showed him the winning middle pair. You got to love this game.

Biscotti played some tables online this week because the guys from the homegame don’t dare to play against me anymore for a while. I faced an enormous bad beat in an hold’em tournament but then I tried to play another game, more specific Pot Limit Omaha. I immediately pwned that game and took down a great pot with a hand I played like a genius.

Now look at the ridiculous hold’em situation:

So I’m the chipleader of the table and I flop an OESD ánd a flushdraw, while the other big stack just moves all-in on the flop. As my hand is of course huge I call immediately. However, the pot odds were not completely justifying a call there but you have to kick people out to win a tournament. The replayer says I’m a four to one dog there but I think that’s not correct because of all the draws I have. However, the turn is a cooler.

Then I played some Pot Limit Omaha and I made a brilliant play:

The replay is a little fucked up, but it couldn’t be more obvious how good I play this hand. I just call all this guy’s bets because I know I’m beat so that’s a very good play. But on the river I know I have the best hand but CHECK towards him with quads! Of course I reraise him and he sees that I’m rewarded on the river for my good plays on flop and turn.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, we had a homegame again the other night with the same bunch of people and guess what? Biscotti entered the room, had a look at all the poor guys and left with some 45 € profit. I have to admit, I was running reasonably good. No, I was running like hell.

I made my first move of the evening when I was not even sitting on the table yet. I decided to cook a nice and healthy meal for myself when the game was already supposed to be on for like an hour. This way I got the players sitting on the table a little on tilt already. Besides, healthy meals keep me in great shape so I can conquer some grapes in the near future. My second move was wearing an awesome distracting tshirt. While everybody was guessing after what was exactly on it, I picked up a full boat with my Hellmuths and doubled up against the fat kid. He was so confused by my genious play that he decided to go broke another two times in like seven minutes.

The Turkish guy meanwhile used his own methods to command the table: he just threatened to pound one’s player head with a ‘matrak’. I guess that must be some archaic Turkish weapon or something. He happened to have picked up a new 32 year old girlfriend from South-America btw, I think she must be hot because I think all South American women are hot. We played some more hands and the Iranian Dutchman, who was dressed like a moron but nothing new there, was having (I have to admit) an awesome read on the table. That sucked in one particular hand, where I flopped a set of jacks. I led out immediately and he mucked his toppair stating I had exactly this hand. I tried to throw in a little bad acting by saying I had AK (also toppair) but he didn’t believe it  from the start.

I was able to build up a nice stack the rest of the evening, playing aggresively against the two rocks and having patience against the loose jobless guy, who played almost 90% of the hands. That’s my formula of winning every time: outflop the good players and outplay the bad players. That’s how I rule my kingdom!

Hey don’t say that’s just like my opinion, because it’s Gus Hansen who states it on Poker After Dark. Gus Hansen is playing with five hot grapes on this episode and Clonie makes a very good lay down:

Wow, Gus Hansen is really sitting in heaven here with all the pretty ladies. Did you notice how hot Vanessa Rousso is with that hat? I have kind of the same hat baby! But what the hell: is Erika Schoenberg really engaged to David Benyamine??!!! So this chick isn’t only very pretty but she can also cook very good? I choose you Erika, marry me!

Btw, I was at a party the other day and I had a great time. I didn’t plan to party at first but then we ran into some American chicks from Los Angeles and they decided to go to the party with Biscotti. When we had arrived over there I didn’t see them anymore but I couldn’t care less because the DJ was playing Caravan Palace, awesome. In the end I was kicked from the festival area because some security moron thought I was doin’ drugs, like I didn’t stop already for like a gazillion times. Party was over anyway so I didn’t care. Tell next time!

You can do all the math you want and keep trying to read your opponent for hours, but hey: in poker you have to gamble sometimes. I played a tournament on Full Tilt Poker a few minutes ago and I’ve got some special hands selected for people like Howard Lederer and Barry Greenstein who sometimes forget that you can win a pot with every hand.

Biscotti was up a few chips when he got the T9 off suit. Now maybe you don’t like these kinda hands, especially from the small blind, I do:

Especially when someone goes all-in I like to come over the top when possible and isolate him: there’s a good chance I have two live cards here so it’s a good opportunity to double up in a tournament. I even happened to be a big favorite against this donk. Then I got the 97 suited, also a hand I fell in love with:

I decide to do a little minraise to get some chips in the pot but again, but someone feels the urgent need to shove all-in preflop. This moron was holding the QT off, how bad are they playing at Full Tilt? So I think it’s kinda justice that I make a straight and double up here. A few moments later I was eliminated but I don’t really care because I know now there’s plenty of money to win over there. Greetz!