Badder Than Michael Jackson

Still plugging away at the tables. Mainly at Everest Poker aka The Land That Sklansky Forgot.

Alas I am running badder than Michael Jackson in a kindergarten right now.

Fortunately I had, for reasons entirely non-bankroll related, decided to drop right down to the micro-stakes for a while.

Which means I've been up and down more than a crack ridden whore's knickers, but ultimately haven't lost or made a penny since Christmas.

Could be worse I suppose.

Growing Old Disgracefully

Of the many signs of growing old, one I was not familiar with until this weekend was the experience of attending a 21st birthday party where the celebration was in honour of a very close friend's child.

A close friend who happens to be almost exactly the same age as me. A close friend who, yes, has a 21-year old daughter. That must make me pretty old!

On the plus side, my Friday night plans earned me a bit of kudos with the younger members of my work team. I'm pretty sure I could have sold tickets to a few of them.

Also on the plus side, I could honestly put my hand-on-heart and say I actually did recognise some of the music the DJ was playing. It didn't even seem too loud.

Still down with the kids! Umm, or something like that.

On the slightly disgraceful side, when faced with a sly 'anyone caught your eye?' question from the wife - who had cunningly waited until the booze was clearly seeping into my veins - my answer was honest enough to be credible, but needed a degree of obfuscation to remove the risk of a knee to the groin.

Being a 21st there was of course more boozing going on than the BMA would approve of, and some people took it worse than others.

None more so than the guy who lapsed into incoherence; had to be carried from the club; assisted into a taxi (but only after being handed a plastic bag at the insistence of the driver); and was last seen vomiting from the open cab window, as it weaved it's way through the traffic on Glasgow's party central - Sauchiehall Street.

Par for the course if you're an under-ager who outsmarted the bouncers.

Slightly embarrassing if you're a 20-something living it large with your mates.

When you happen to be aforementioned very close friend and father of the birthday girl, that's got to be a Medal of Honour for growing old disgracefully.

Bonus Rakeback On Everleaf Network

Just a quick piece of pimpage for Minted Poker - part of the Everleaf Network.

Sign up through RTR before 1st February 2009 and get 46% rakeback - as well as a 100% to $400 signup bonus.

As I understand it, the standard rakeback terms for the site are 30% if you register direct, so it's a fair margin extra to go through RTR.

Truth be told, I've more of these accounts than I could shake a mouse at, but it never hurts to be an early adopter if there's a long term benefit to be locked in.

Valentines Day Is 14th February

Don't forget it!

This has been a public service announcement in collaboration with Agent Provocateur.

Other People's Rakeback FTW

It's fair to say my poker play over the last year has been somewhat fragmented. Rather than putting in a major effort on any one site, I've jumped around a fair bit.

Which meant my cash was somewhat thinly spread.

In these straitened times, I figured I should consolidate my funds whilst taking the opportunity to do a quick audit of my online finances.

Which led me, eventually, to my long dormant Eurobet account. Within which I was a little surprised to find over $1000. Eh, what?

After some sleuthing I discovered that the payments had come from Rake The Rake - my longstanding and super reliable rakeback provider.

So out-of-touch have I been recently that I hadn't previously realised they have upgraded their website and introduced an online reporting system.

This allowed me to discover that around a year ago someone signed up using my referral code, and has since been raking around $5000 per month - mainly on Betfair.

I'd left my payment option defaulted to Eurobet when I created my Rake The Rake account, so the payments had been accruing without my noticing them.

All of which came as a very pleasant surprise. If I knew who Mr Betfair was, I'd gladly buy him a drink.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Created by cartuja at Kerrydale Street.

A belated Happy New Year to one and all.

Reaffirmation

When you get to my age it's nice to know life can still hold the occasional pleasant surprise.

Last Saturday was one such event. K had decided to give me an early birthday treat of an overnight stay on the east coast - minus kids - to take in a Biffy Clyro gig.

The Biff are one of those local bands who've been around for a while now, and who I've been vaguely aware of, but knew little about.

Recently they seem to be on a real upwards trajectory on the back of some songs I've caught on the radio and really liked. A proper old fashioned slow burner of a band who've served their time and seem to be reaping the rewards.

Rewards such as a sell out pre-Christmas tour, culminating in a gig at Glasgow's biggest arena - the SECC. The SECC has the scale for the biggest bands, but it's a soulless tin box and not on my list of favourite venues.

K however had been thinking creatively and landed two tickets for their warm up 'pre-tour' gig at the Alhambra Theatre in Dunfermline.

We very rarely do live gigs these days but the thought of a hot band at an unknown, but presumably intimate, venue was sufficiently intriguing an option to have us both eagerly anticipating the night.

First pleasant surprise was the venue. The Alhambra is an old 1920s theatre that has obviously seen a fair bit of money recently.

All the seats had been stripped out, so it was standing room only, including, it seemed on the balcony above the stalls where we located ourselves. I doubt there was a bad spot in the entire house to watch the gig from.

The combination of historic setting, modern facilities, and a generously sized bar with minimal queueing was a good start to the evening. I mused that it must be quite similar to how the long departed Glasgow Apollo would have appeared in it's heyday.

We easily found space near the sound desk and awaited the arrival of the band.

First impression. FUCK ME. Possibly the loudest band I've ever heard. Simple but effective lighting effects, almost zero pause between songs, and a forty five minute blitzkrieg of raw power almost blew me away.

I feared my ears may bleed, but I was loving it - despite a few crackles and bangs from the PA as the sound guys fought to harness the on-stage energy.

Just as I was beginning to think this is amazing but a little light to balance the shade wouldn't go amiss, the band paused for breath - and produced a gorgeous short acoustic set that took my breath away.

There's something distinctly incongruous about watching a sweaty, hairy singer and a drummer who looks like he repairs tanks for a living, singing beautiful harmonious tunes, but it works.

Then the noise returned and the rest of the concert was just a sea of adrenalin culminating in one of the best stage dives I've seen live. Proper rock'n'roll to finish the night off.

The whole night just blew me away. Even if my ears were still ringing 48 hours later.

It's a long time since a gig has left me feeling so alive, and it's made me regret not going to more in the last few years. The counterpoint to that argument being, of course, that most gigs probably aren't so good.

Shannon Matthews Revisited

When Shannon Matthews was rescued by the police, I had a right go at her mother, Karen Matthews.

Unwittingly I was surprisingly close to the truth when I joked about Karen fancying her chances as an entrepreneur.

It now transpires she was part of a kidnap plot to claim the reward money.

Even more shockingly the police have proved she was feeding Shannon - and probably the rest of her brood - a cocktail of prescription drugs for at least 20 months.

Temazepam, amitriptyline, tramadol and dihydrocodeine - with the dosages peaking during school holiday period.

In my earlier post I wrote, 'How she managed to get time for a social life once she'd got to four or five kids, while still in her twenties, is a puzzle to me.'

Well, I'll puzzle no more. But I won't be taking any of her parenting tips to heart.

It's quite clear the kids were viewed as an inconvenience. A nuisance. But they were a very reliable revenue stream. Worth keeping around!

Karen was making £400 a week in benefits. That's £20,800 a year.

Or, to put it another way, the after tax earnings of someone on around £28,000 per year - and that's before taking into account the various discounts or freebies benefit claimants can qualify for.

What a farce of a system. What a horrible woman.

This has been a particularly harrowing period for child related stories. I'd like to think the powers-that-be will be energised by these events and do something positive, but I'm not holding my breath.

On A Lighter Note...

...is this how the most famous dwarf in poker celebrates becoming the 8th best poker player in Latin America?

We should be told.

Who Killed Baby P?

They did.

Suck that up Google, Yahoo, MSN, et al.

I can't recall ever being as utterly disgusted and outraged by a case as this one.

Not just for the horrific brutality inflicted on a defenceless child over an extended period of time, but for the shameless self-serving arse covering of Haringey Council.

Sharon Shoesmith, Clive Preece and co. can rot in Hell along with the bastards who did this.

There are very personal reasons that make me feel even more strongly than I might otherwise do about this case, but writing about them would be too difficult right now.

I feel like a volcano ready to explode. I hope there are lots of occupants of maximum-security prisons around England feeling exactly the same way.

2008 WSOP Live Streaming For Nowt

Looks like the link I posted last year is still going strong this year.

No idea if this is legit or not and I'm too lazy to find out.

http://www.channelsurfing.net/watch-wsop.html

Lewis Hamilton

I'm not a huge fan of Formula One but this afternoon's events were just mind blowing.

The drama, spectacle, and last ditch victory from the jaws of defeat ending, was the stuff of sporting legend.

The sight of the Ferrari team celebrating, only to slump in disbelief as Hamilton caught Timo Glock on the last bend, took me back many years to another event I had an interest in, but no emotional attachment to, which has lived long in sporting folklore.

On that day, Michael Thomas was the hero putting the local favourites to the sword in the dying seconds.

Donald Findlay

I don't usually bet on anything other than cards or the odd sporting event, but I wouldn't mind having a few quid on Donald Findlay being involved when this case gets to court.

It's A Sad Day When...

...the most incisive political commentator in the country is a transvestite comedian.

On the way to work today, I heard Paul O'Grady (aka Lily Savage) talking about the Jonathan Ross/Russell Brand situation, and he was spot on in his assessment.

"I think it's about time we all moved on, really. I think there are far more important issues at stake than a radio show on a Saturday night and two comics saying silly things.

Yes, it's well out of order but it's not a hanging offence. Why is the prime minister getting involved? Shouldn't he be worrying about the war in Afghanistan, the credit crunch, knife crime?

The most relieved man in the country is George Osbourne. It's blown him right off the front pages."

Enough said!

Running Like David Murray

Miracle of miracles. I'm actually back playing a fair bit of online poker over the last month or so. Now all I have to do is start winning again.

Given my rustiness, and with a little concern at numerous reports of toughening of the online game, I've been breaking myself in playing micro stakes and gradually building up the number of tables.

It's been interesting to relearn some aspects of the game, and to observe how my opponents have evolved in my absence.

One of the most notable changes is the tremendous proliferation of short stackers - even at the lowest limits.

This has been particularly noticeable on Full Tilt and iPoker (via Blonde Poker).

I found multi-tabling extremely demanding for a while, and was blaming an imagined shortening of the time to act, until I realised the true reason was other players acting much more quickly, by folding or pushing on almost every hand.

As has been noted elsewhere, this doesn't make these games unbeatable, but it does require different tactics.

Conversely, Everest seems to be the land that evolution forgot. There's still a fair number of short stackers on this site, but they don't seem to know how to play, which makes for a fishier field with the consequently higher bad beat ratio.

I've been remarkably phlegmatic about that so far. Possibly this is one of the lessons I didn't need to re-learn, as it's more of a life skill.

That doesn't make it any more pleasing to survey the remnants of several lost buy-ins, while my Sklansky bucks meter goes off the scale.

Sigh. It's good to be back. I think.

Easily Satisfied By Katy Perry

Saw this today in work and couldn't stop laughing. Who said slapstick was dead?

Bizarrely it turned up on, of all websites, The Telegraph. A bit of light relief from Ambrose Evans-Pritchard and Edmund Conway on the credit crunch.

Has to be up there with Fucking Matt Damon in my fave clips of the year.

Buying On The Sound Of Gunfire

This might seem a particularly odd time to be making a long term commitment to equities, but this week I signed up for a new pension plan.

I've been focusing on paying down the mortgage but since I'm tied to a long term low fixed rate, reducing my debt isn't an imperative in the current market situation.

Added to that, I've finally tired of handing over a huge proportion of my income to the tax man.

The nature of my work as a freelancer means that my gross earnings are subject not only to employee, but also employer, National Insurance contributions. Meaning personal pension contributions attract an effective tax relief rate of 48%.

That's quite a few BBs!

In addition, I've been rather lax about pension planning. My last contribution was a bottom-fishing lump sum some time around early-2003. At least I got my timing right!

This way I need to wait a long time to get my hands on the money, but at least more of it stays mine.

Michael Palin Usurped

They say people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

With that guidance in mind, I've been refraining from commenting on the US election. UK politicians hardly having covered themselves in glory over recent years.

However I had to laugh at John Cleese's declaration that Michael Palin is no longer the funniest Palin.

The thing that gets me about the McCain/Palin candidacy is that McCain must have realised his health and age were weaknesses, and people would pay more than usual attention to whoever his 'one heartbeat from the White House' running mate was.

Logically this should have meant going for a solid, reliable, experienced running mate. Instead he went for someone who makes George Bush look like Einstein.

Someone who happens to already be more than cosy with 'big oil'.

My inner conspiracy theorist can't help but imagine a triumphant McCain victory, followed by a comfortable demise in his sleep a few months later.

Leaving the White House in the control of a 'nice-looking parrot'.

They'd be drilling on the White House lawn after that! Albeit I could easily foresee an Alexander Haig style declaration, as Palin was hastily packed on a plane to Alaska.

Just my idle thoughts. I've probably watched Syriana too often.

Icesave Iced

A few months ago I was perusing the Sunday papers, when I commented to K.

'The Icelandic banking system is looking really dodgy. I think I'll take that money out of Icesave.'

So I did. Online it took me about 2 minutes.

This week, Icesave went tits up. Within hours some woman was on BBC News bewailing the loss of the TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND pounds she had left on deposit with them.

Apparently it wasn't her fault she'd left what, according to her, was her entire cash pile in a failing institution. Oh no, it was the government's fault.

Seems she wasn't smart enough to read the papers, but she was savvy enough to know how to get on TV pronto to pin the blame elsewhere.

Not quite the attitude that made Britain great; and from memory I think she was an Oxford student too. Standards are slipping!

No doubt she will have been grateful today as the government voluntarily bailed out domestic Icesave investors.

News then started to leak that numerous local authorities had left MILLIONS on deposit with Icesave. Kent County Council alone had £50 million on deposit. Now they want bailed out too.

ffs The Chief Executives and Finance Directors of these councils are paid six figures plus benefits and lavish pensions.

Do they read the papers? Can they spell risk assessment? Should they still be in a job tomorrow?

If there are any vacancies maybe I should apply. I've got no relevant experience or skills in running a major local authority. Seems I'd be a shoo-in for the job.

Timing Is Everything

Tiered gardens + 50 year old brickwork + incessant summer rain = a bloody complicated insurance claim.



Not the sight I was expecting to see as I investigated a mysterious crashing noise in my garden this afternoon.

Fortunately E was at nursery, so there was no risk to life or limb.

The wall between the properties is commonly owned by the various properties it divides. The visible damage extends across the boundaries of six properties, two of whom are already in dispute.

I suspect the actual area of repair will cover even more. Each with their own insurance cover.

This could get messy!