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I said no resolutions, but suddenly I've got more plans than Hannibal Smith. I've decided that I will learn how to play Omaha properly. I bought a book and everything. Yes I know, best laid plans and everything, but I feel I can apply myself here.

This evening I sat down at the cash table in my local card club and donked off £60 while I finished my tea. It was only 20 minutes; I think the lessons are gonna be expensive for this game. Note to self: only drink cold drinks, it's cheaper.

Sitting down at that table to learn the game is as much of an exercise in futility as learning the art of sensual love making while growing up in a Turkish brothel, so I might just sit and watch for the time being.

My handicap here is that my brain has a sort of one way system for processing information. It's worse than anything you'll see in Swindon.

Thus, it takes a long time for me to work things out. I also get a bit lost sometimes and I can miss vital pieces of information or forget things which can be costly.

It's bad enough playing Hold 'em, but with four hole cards I'm really struggling to make a decision before other people at the table start calling me a useless c*nt.

I will prevail though. I've given myself about a month to learn at which time I shall take myself off to play in the £250 Omaha freeze-out at Walsall, part of the GUKPT festival; should there be one. Elsewise I'll take myself off to a quiet corner of Dusk Till Dawn and have a bash at their Omaha cash tables.

I'm off to Cardiff this weekend incidentally for the APAT Welsh National, isn't it. If I happen to perform spectacularly there I may just whizz myself off to Slovenia again at the end of the month for the €700 freeze-out one or two of my chums have registered for.

In real terms, I'll stink the place up in Wales and spend the rest of the month in my pajamas eating sticks of pepperami and watching repeats of the Good Life. Felicity Kendall in wellies...grrrrrrrr.

Oh, finally, I've been cleared by my Docs to fly, so a trip to Vegas in May with the Mob is a distinct possibility. I've been promising myself I would go back to Vegas since I was 22 when I made the error of spending a weekend there with a crazy American-Eyetalian woman with a gambling addiction she conveniently forgot to inform me about.