But geez, out there somewhere there MUST be a real human that wastes time on poker sites play oney tables that has a friend or family member that is a poker pro and/or understands a little bit about math.
Race tables suck. They're just a convenient excuse to go all in every hand. But, race tables can develop into an even more bogus endgame where the time commitment to keep playing develops into superhuman number of hours played. For a real person. You get one player over a million, a couple of positions approaching 1 million. Several positions sporting hundreds of thousand chips on a 40k max buy-in. And a huge wait list. So that those with an infinite time to play free money games that get clogged still have an income stream. Drink Mountain Dew for three days straight, call your friends up and say, "DUDE - I have a million chips - you HAVE to log in, join the wait list and feed me! It doesn't matter that I haven't eaten for thirteen days! (Goddamit that dog is looking tasty.) I NEED FREE MONEY CHIPS!" And the dudes, and not to be sexist the gals provide it.
That's right you primitive screw heads listen up. See this? This is my FOLDSTICK. It's a double gauged Foldington top of the line. This sweet baby was made in Gran Rapids, Michigan. It's got a walnut stock, cobalt blue steel and a hair trigger. That's right, this is PokerFrauds top of the line. Shop smart. Shop PokerFrauds smart. YOU GOT THAT!!?!!
Now I swear, anyone of you primates even pre-flop RAISES on me.....
I'll probably fold since everyone gets more pat hands than I do and the draws are far less than satisfying. Like, non-random rigged kind of non-satisfying. (Since I fold a lot I get to play deep into the "random" tourney and see what "folks" are betting on and the ever present playing to make me lose instead of playing to win nonsense.)
Jarah took a break from admiring herself in the mirror to voice her support despite our upcoming legal issues. Hun, (ohmigod, it's so great that I haven't seen that in the bogus chat lately) stop trying to barbecue the dog. Surprisingly he really, reall hates that. Let's get you some cyber Pringles before you starve on the race tables.
And me and my crack team of random card analysts (me, the dog, the three positions on the past three weeks that were created based on this blog, 78 high school cheerleaders, a groundhog that wandered into my back yard, the hot girl that was at the Nissan dealership when I bought my new car, a rubber hose that I ran over with my lawn mower and an insurance adjuster that thinks my trade in is worth nothing) all think -
This is bullshit.
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