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!

Hell yeah, I love poker! What’s a better occasion for writing a first post on my brand new blog than a fine homegame in which Biscotti played one of his best games?

I didn’t make too much profit but that wasn’t the most important goal yesterday. I didn’t play for some time with these guys in a live game as I stopped playing for a while because of all the bad luck I always had. Besides, I had to make some masterpieces at school. But I felt like playing again, brought along my ‘unabomber-glasses’ (I don’t think Phil Laak is that great a player but his girlfriend Jen Tilly has very nice tits) and they’ll all remember for a while that Biscotti was there.

After all, I didn’t start that well. I misplayed my toppair against the loser to my left, who always gets an enormous ego-boost when you tell him you’re afraid of his idiotic raises and then donks all his money away. I had to rebuy some moments later but with my second bullet I hit a lot of targets. I had a LOT of patience when I was shortstack again and then it was time to shine: that pseudo-pro, that arrogant Dutch monkey and the other jobless guy, a Turkish guy with a weapon, two tight fuckers of which one went broke against the other (AQ vs AA, LOL donkaments) and the fat kid: I won pots from everybody in any position. Basically, the only thing I didn’t win that evening was the hot chick that was in the room next door.