It’s been a rough couple of days for me. Yesterday I lost with Kings three times – and that doesn’t even include the times I lost when someone had an Ace in their hand. I also lost on the first hand of a tournament when my Aces were cracked by my opponents Kings. In another tournament, I was in the money and 5th in chips when I lost 20% of my stack when my AK was taken down by A3. Soon after, I lost the rest of my chips when QQ went down to TT.
I was pissed! My tilt monkey was hollering and flinging feces all over the house. I tried to calm him. I said, “It’s okay tilt monkey. We’re still showing a nice profit.”
My tilt monkey said nothing, but threw a steaming handful of monkey shit in my face. Things were getting worse.
I should have took this time to exercise like my doctor says I should, but after taking such horrendous beats I couldn’t bring myself to run nowhere like a hamster on a wheel. NO!
No.
No, this kind of anger can only be quenched by an atrociously violent act. I had been wronged and I demanded retribution in blood! But how? Who? Or What?
Then I remembered. The Ant Empire has slowly been amassing troupes around my house’s perimeter. Since I started this blog about three weeks ago, poker is all I’ve been thinking about and my lawn has gone neglected. The armies of the Ant Empire saw their opportunity and took up positions in the overgrown grass. They don’t think I noticed – but I did.
I knew of at least eight encampments, but that was last week and there could be more by now – many more.
This was the perfect time to strike. Fueled by rage, I took stock of the weapons at my disposal. Poison? No. Too quick.
Magnifying glass? No. Too tedious.
Lighter and WD-40? Now we’re talkin’!
I’m not an unreasonable man. Armed with my weapons, I stepped out of the garage and shouted, “I DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH YOUR QUEEN TO NEGOTIATE THE TERMS OF YOUR SURRENDER.”
Nothing. Not a word. Clearly these creatures could not be reasoned with. The ants must die. All of them.
Die Bitches Die!
I walked over to the first ant encampment and began my attack.
Quickly, I kicked the top of the mound before they could mount a defense and unleashed my hellish fireball of death. The ants curled into little balls as the immense heat surrounded them. Millions upon millions poured out, but they were no match for my fireball of justice. As their superheated guts popped out of their exoskeletons I shouted, “WHERE’S YOUR QUEEN GOD NOW!” At this, my neighbor looked up at me in horror. He must be in league with The Empire. I made a mental note to investigate later and continued my rampage.
Pile after pile the story was the same. Attack. Counter-attack. Fire and death. Try as they might, the Ant army couldn’t stop me and in the end; though I was outnumbered by five million to one; I emerged victorious.
Slowly, I trudged back inside, put away my weapons, and wiped the sweat and charred ant remains from my brow. Next I took a shower to wash away the dirt and ant effluence from my person and now I sit wondering if I should play more poker.
What would I do if I got another bad beat? Could I handle it?
I’m not sure. But there is always my neighbor. Yes – my neighbor. We’re due for a talk now. He doesn’t think I know, but I do. I do.
I smile a little smile and fire up more Sit ‘N Goes. Play on Cocky Fish. Play on.
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