Born 30 something years ago into a card-playing clan in the North of England: the low-roller's poker odyssey has taken him from the school common-room via down-trodden Midlands' casinos, smoky Cotswolds pubs, celebrity Soho drinking spots and of course the ubiquitous world of cyberspace to the home of poker itself, Las Vegas. Join his search for juicy take-downs, great pot odds and the occasional back-door straight as he goes for glory.
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Sunday, July 15, 2007
What goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas
I am currently feeling too ill to communicate after a big night with the Irish boys. I am getting the fuck out of Dodge tomorrow. I have had a moment of blinding epiphany. Some major realisations went down. The Rhino has bolted. I am bolting too to return to my family. Adios amigos
5:31 AM | Permalink
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