i dont have the time or emotional constitution to make a complete post. but i have to express my immense hatred and disgust with michael moore. He is a fucking retard. he understands absolutely nothing about the working of the world or the economy or anything. He is an imbecile and a scumbag. If he was the king of america he would completely destroy the country. I hate him so much. I hate him i hate him i hate him. he is a disgusting fat turd. people are not one thing and i concede that he is very good at making movies. why he thinks he knows anything about the world is completely beyond me. its a self delusion of immense immense proportions. The official position of this blog is now not only that the people who shut neteller down and chased party poker away should get cancer. we here at undergroundhome.livejournal.com pray on our knees every night for michael more to get cancer throughout his prostate lungs and kidneys; on his skin and in his brain, so he will suffer and suffer and suffer until we can all smile and celebrate as his grave becomes a shrine to idiocy.

and guess what im feeling so good my long awaited match with elizabeth v, the prominent nyc chess teacher is back on. 9.5-.5????????? im afraid not. try 10-0.

i will crush all of you except for jan gustafsson but he will be crushed in time by my lovely audacious
daughters Winter and Clementine. They will check mate him and say to him politely "you played very well" and then

they will beam up at me with happiness having pleased me and i will look back at them with the true pure pride of a father

whose tiny little daughters are somehow strong chess grandmasters.

Vernese just called me form Stockholm. she was taking these ridiculous long drawn out drags of a cigarette throughout the conversation and sounded really affected. apparently she has succeeded in getting professionally involved in the theater in some capacity and although she kept describing things as "abysmal" i got the impression she was rather enjoying herself in Europe. if i weren't in such a good mood i might have gotten short with her because she kept giggling and saying "Pierre stop it" under her breath every few minutes. but as it is it didnt bother me at all. she seemed to be unsure from my latest post if i have been winning or if i had been committed to an asylum for the mentally ill. preposterous that she calls me up at fucking 8am new york city time and says this to me. but being on top of the world i just said (a tad condescending perhaps) "sweetheart don't worry your pretty little head about it" hung up and went back to eating my olives and water melon because i am a man of many contrasts.

also i know im in a good mood also because Ive been singing loudly that memorable song from the animated feature film an American tale:

"THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA AND THE STREETS ARE FILLED WITH CHEESE!, THERE ARE NO CATS IN AMERICA AND THE STREETS ARE FILLED WITH CHEESE!"

if its not love than its the bomb the bomb the bomb the bomb the bomb the bomb the bomb that will bring us together.

I couldn't let the true aficionados down forever.

I have a confession to make. despite my being a huge professional my mood and general outlook IS strongly affected by my short term results, and so while a few days ago i had resolved to either become a professional economist or a career member of the foreign service, now all i can think of for my future is how confounding and ridiculous it is that the bellagio does not have a condo development in its complex. am i supposed to drive from the fucking condos at the palms to get to bobbys room? because online poker is great and all but i need to be somewhere where my fans can enjoy and celebrate me in person. then i will write a book called "inside bobbys room " and colbert will joke with me how this sounds like a book about shy teenage homosexuality and i will smile and chuckle a chuckle triumph and I will reach out to touch his strangely enticing curved ear and say "steven i have always wanted to be YOUR formidable opponent."

Let me tell you a short human interest story. I will abridge it because i know u are busy my dear reader: yesterday im playing 5-10 no limit effective stacks 2k i reraise the cutoff from the button with kts he 4 bets double my 3 bet (quite small in other words) i call and flop 3 tens and he stacks off with aces. he goes crazy how much i suck and how lucky i always am. meanwhile this guy is a professional player but completely sucks my cock and balls (as my cousin from long island used to say). I say nothing because i am too mature and besides no free lessons. but i note that he has been rude to me and he will suffer later. i will make a special effort to crush him. today he is back 10-20 3 handed i squeeze once after he raises on button and sb called. i check fold flop because not a one trick pony. a few minutes later same scenario i have tt. flop comes 9 high i bet flop. turn is small - all in. he calls with 45 pair of 5s and misses. what a pleasure. he looks like complete moron. The game fills up and then people leave and we are playing heads up. i have maybe 6500 he has like 2500 we play awhile he chips away at me until he has almost caught up, and then this hand: there is an irrelevant short stack in the big blind, mr wonderful defends the small blind with k4 of clubs. now basically in nl u can never ever ever call out of position. this is an exaggeration obviously but if u just never called out of position wouldnt be big mistake. certainly, especially in heads up or in this case 3 handed, where your credibility is suspect to start to call out of position with weak hands and the plan of making shenanigans is suicide. i have a6 clubs and it comes down beautiful club club club and we both have like 4500. I bet every street and he check raises all in on the river. and keep in mind this is not our normal game. usually we play 5-10 so this is twice as painful. so fucking beautiful sitting there with all the chips feeling through cyberspace his bitter dejection, his hatred for all men living and dead. his cursing anger at this gross injustice. how i am always lucky and how he is never lucky even though he plays so fucking good. AND UNTIL THIS HAND HE WAS WINNING THE HEADS UP MATCH, congratulating himself on being the true champion after all. At that moment it was really a pleasure to be alive. SWEET LIKE JUICE OR WINE.


anyways enough this poker talk. what shall i buy for my beloved Roxy to celebrate my being the world champion? at first i had thought a smallish pony might suite her, might be just the thing for this park slope princess. but then i was thinking how much more wonderful on Saturday morning to waken her with a litter of lovely piglets furiously running back and forth in our bed celebrating their thriving little lives in a hysterical and vigorous frenzy! but i suppose they will get lonesome for their mother and i dont really have enough room for a sow to live and nurse comfortably. also a large pig might be scary at night.


i will now enjoy my leisure activities.

Obviously I dont have the angst or drive to produce an art-prose blog but if I write about politics and society I am likely to arose a vitriolic hatred in my readership. For example one recent peeve I have with discourse about society in my community is that everyone seems to think its reasonable to denigrated the oil companies for being somehow evil. And yet there is blissful silence on the fact that these are the people who provide the oil supply that is the lifeblood of the economy and the society. everyday the oil is there and they went to
fuck-knows-where to get it. Out of the goddamn bottom of the ocean even. And does anybody appreciate this? no not at all, not for an instant. All they want to discuss is what kind of post-facto arbitrary tax can we stick on them to satisfy the blood lust of the lazy mob that whose rise in standard of living in the last 100 years is do in ZERO part to there own effort and entirely to the effort of the entrepreneurs and elites that they accuse of oppressing them and robbing them of their wealth. Excuse me, but they would still be wiping their asses with banana peels if the greedy capitalists hadn't set about to make them the soft smooth charmin with the charming happy bear on the package. Not just soft mind you but Extra Soft.

I forgot to mention that I want to have a 4 way with Sarah Palin and her two teenage daughters. I guess I can wait until the pregnant one gives birth. Hopefully she will still be pleasantly plump.

to say the people who are against abortion on demand are against a women's right to

choose is disingenuous rhetorical game playing of the worst kind. Their position is that the fertilized egg is a life deserving of the protection of the state.

Our position (applicable universally not just on question of abortion) is that we are secular hedonists who do not care about

anything except ourselves. We do not care at all if it is a life or not the same way we do not care if a roach on our kitchen floor is a life. Do not pretend we think its not a life for such and such reasons. our position is that we could not care less. That this is a laughable consideration in fact. Just because we share this view does not mean that we have to suffer delusions about what our view is.

i finally realized who vernese reminds me of. Really more then reminds me of. its as

if she has been modeled on donna from the west wing. Which is perfect for me because

josh lyman is my secret hero and donna has got the hot bantery secretary absolutely

down pat. Its really as if vernese studied the tapes before she came in and

interviewed. perhaps she is not a bantery secretary but just a great method actress.

I have an ongoing fantasy that i am being monitored by homeland security so i

would absolutely die of happiness if vernese was a spy or whatever. after all my

brother has been to yemen.

i think smoking weed may really help my poker. twice against this regular i 3 bet his

button raise form the bb [big blind] and twice the flop comes like king high not too much i bet

200 into 225 he makes it like 450 or something. when im sober im just like what am i

supposed to do with 88 or 99 which i had both times. call and then what if he gets

there or has a king etc and if i just call how can i call again. high im just like what the deck is rich in kings? what is this a fucking joke.

and i go all in for like 500 more. guy thinks forever and folds both times and says:

N:are you kidding me?
Me: you know i just run good what can i say
N: each time you hit tp? [top pair]
Me: of course i have to keep some mystery

N: obv you werent buffing each of them
N: its just amazing


N: at least 1 of my two plays should def have worked
N: you cant have an all in hand every time i am on the
button
N: i wouldve loved to have seen what you had in them
[and then later]
N: how can i even play you
Me: what can i say
N: youre literally driving me insane

really a pleasure.

one guy insulted me in the chatbox talking to someone else. so i said nothing but i make careful study of his play now and i think he might actually be a computer because i noticed he ALWAYS folds when i 3 bet him so i started 3 betting him blind and he never adjusted just mucks like 50 hands in a row only problem is guy after me starts 4 betting like a maniac. absurd. every hand guy raises and he thinks im a nit so i 3 bet he folds. but a human is supposed to noticed getting 3 bet everysingle time they open. It is embarrassing but you have to keep doing it. for the guy behind me to start 3 betting me light means that he is a very good player because typical shmuck sees he is facing 2 players raise and rr hes not really going to start just 4 betting with a4o all the time. i remember what doyle wrote long time ago that sometimes he bets so often he feels embarrassed and thinks surely this guy isnt going to just fold again because its so obvious i have nothing betting everytime and then you force yourself to bet and then they fold and you have won another pot. you might feel absurd having 3 bet some guy 7 times in a row and now you have 83 but really it makes no difference what you have. in the words of one billionaire trader "it takes courage to be a pig." btw little tid bit: basically if you call in position and then just raise anyflop its impossible for them to call. they feel like you are putting them all in practically.

Vernice has quit (I hope just temporarily)because i put her to work on my new political action committee to roll back the new deal. tensions were running high because i had previously caught her making an obama-girl utube video when she was supposed to be doing actual work. It ended with her shrieking that I am "part of the problem" but I'm sure it will all blow over soon.

Anyway thats not why Im posting today.

IM posting to say that i am changing the format of the blog to a dear abbey/ask the ethicist format so I will now be taking your questions and inquiries on any subject you care to have me address. I have already foreseen that this may be embarrassing because it could be no one will ask me anything for quite some time but I am patient if nothing else, which i have demonstrated by playing like a nit over a period of many many years. I ask only that you sign your inquiries with alliteration as in "Jilted in Jasper" or "Seething in Sacramento."

Verney has placed me on suicide watch it seems. This despite the fact that I don't intend to kill myself and have expressed a totally different fear, namely that other people will succeed in killing me. This difference, amazingly, seems lost on her. Nice to see I am not the most hysterical after all. I also tried to explain to her that in any case art is artifice and does not presume to be a representation of reality. No dice with that idea either. It works out good for me though because I like to be the focus of a manic, compulsive, attention.