This Poker Bat Ain’T No Poker Brat Continues…

The Bat is in Vegas. The less said the better. Oh sure, the Bat will give you a trip report sooner or later, later being the truthful word, or the more truthful word, as there ain’t one coming anytime soon. The Bat taking a break from the online casino long enough to write this post is going to go back to the top ten things the Bat hates at a poker table. Now the Bat is loving his slots right now people so this is a big concession. Thank the Bat for it sometime.

So far the Bat has critiqued Posers (yeah you know who you are and you know the Bat ain’t talking about people who model in magazines and such), Fish (the term not the food), Dumbass poker table Debates (we are headed for a race war, Doyle Brunson is older than fishsticks, and Shag carpeting got its name from the people rolling around it now its shaggy nature–all pointless debates, the Bat’s answers in order 1. No. 2. Yes 3. Yes shag carpeting became popular because you can shag on it, but no debate has its place on a poker table. We sit on chairs not soapboxes people. Hit the Internet and start a blog if you want to spout off, that’s what the Poker Bat does), and finally Dead Man’s Funk (you smell like you are dead, go to a hospital or a morgue but don’t play poker next to the Bat).

Okay, now it’s time for the Bat’s latest edition to the things that suck at a poker table… People that don’t have a clue how to tip. Remember when those dealers from Harrahs Darrel and Jason L used to post on their blogs over at Yeah when was that two years ago last? One of them, think it was “DaRockofAces” talked about deserving a redbird every now and then. Well, here’s your redbird darrell.

Tip your dealers when you win. Don’t be taking a huge chunk of the money off the table but tip the guys in the ugly vests a little something. Not because they dealt you the best hand but because you are the one winning and it’s your job to help pay the salaries of the sclubs dealing the cards. When you lose you don’t have to tip–isn’t that a great system?

Okay, the Bat has ranted before how tipping to pay the dealers is an assbackwards casino gambit to have the players actually pay their employees wages. The Bat don’t like that. Granted. The Bat would ascribe to the theory that if nobody tipped the casinos would then have to start paying their dealers appropriately or risk losing them. And while there are some grade a dooschbags who try that scam with waiters the Bat knows we aren’t all going to just up and stop tipping at one time together. So, since that ain’t going to happen when you win a big pot throw a dealer a bone or two. If it’s really big throw them a redbird or a blackbird or a pinky if you are that big time.

Then you got the other side of the equation doofuses that can’t seem to recognize they pour all their modest profits into the dealer’s box. If you are lucky to make $200 in an evening and you tip $5 a hand and you win 15 hands, you’d be maing an extra $60 if you were just tipping a dollar. That’s almost a third more than your current win rate. Don’t be stupid in either direction you morons.

Alright, that’s about it from the Bat today. Until next time same batsite, same Poker Bat.

The Bat’s World Series of Poker So far

Bat in Vegas update number 1.

The Bat decided to get an early start on his promise to win a bracelet this year no matter the poker games he has to play to get it.  The World Series wasn’t working out, with their buy-ins over the 1k bankroll the Bat traveled to Vegas with.  The Bat immediately started propositioning women at the poker table to come to his room for some one on one action and taking out his money clip.  Before the Bat could explain it would be the Bat’s gold money clip vs. their bracelets the ladies all started calling security.  The Bat will have to rethink how he makes the offer he’s discovering.

The Bat did get one taker and he’s almost embarrassed to admit what happened.  At a 3-6 game the Bat was dragging massive pot after massive pot, the white chips falling like rain, and a toothless tattooed dingbat who chased every hand like the game was No Fold ‘Em not Hold ‘em, seemed like the perfect mark to be had.  She obviously had never been to bwin poker school. The Bat started making polite conversation.

Turns out the lady said she was self-employed.  She did massages and other personal services.  The Bat liked the sound of that because the Bat’s back was in a bit of pain.  He needed someone to rub the shoulders, neck, and waist and if the Bat could get that AND win a bracelet at the same time, that would be a special piece of luck.

The Bat wondered about her experience and asked how long she had performed such services.  She giggled and said, “Paid or unpaid.”

“Professionally,” the Bat replied.

“I’ve been a professional on and off since I was 15,” she giggled.

“Must have some magic fingers.”

“I have a bit of magic,” she smiled.  It would be a wide grin if she had any teeth to grin with.

The Bat bet a hand or two and she kept chunking off here chips.  The Bat almost hated to leave the poker table, but the task at hand was to win a bracelet during the world series and the lady had one of those magic magnet bracelets around one of her slender wrists.

The Bat fondled it, and she said, “Don’t be getting frisky…  yet.”

That was an unexpected turn.  A few minutes later she had gone busto, and the Bat decided to lay the challenge out to the lady.

He produced his money clip complete with wad of cash and laid it on the table.  The Bat said, “This for… that,” pointing toward her risk.

“That for this?”  She giggled, then whispered,”Where?”

“Let’s go to the Bat cave,” the Bat said.

Once there, the Bat got the shock of his life.  The lady seem to have no interest in playing poker for her bracelet.  Turns out she was a lady… of the night.  What a kick to the teeth, the Bat thought, when he looked at the lady who looked like she had had a kick to the teeth. 

The Bat had to escort the escort out of the room 5 minutes later still shy a bracelet. 

The Bat raced back down to the 3-6 game still awake in his quest to accomplish goal number 2, beat Phil Laak’s record for staying awake playing poker.   Technically, the Bat was only gone from the table for ten to fifteen minutes so that would count as a break.  The quest was still on.

The thin lady who had gotten the wrong impression also sat back down at the table.  Apparently, she had been able to scrounge up some money and was willing to gamble with it.  Though short one magnetic bracelet the Bat renewed his quest to conquer Vegas.

The Bat’s World Series of Poker Goals

The Bat is excited about this years world series of poker.  He’s been vegging out in preparation for going to the World Series, crushing the games at and focusing on doing three things.  1.  Win a bracelet, if not two, if not three.  2.  Break Phil Laak’s record for staying awake.  3.  Own the cash games at the Rio and bonus number 4.  Shed some lbs.

The Bat will focus on number 1 first.  Winning a bracelet at the World Series which will be easy enough for the Bat.  If by the time the Main Event has come and gone the Bat hasn’t won a bracelet the Bat will challenge ever single poker hag in Las Vegas to a heads up match.  The lady merely has to put her bracelet  up against the Bat’s money clip.  This won’t be some heads up Sit’n go the Bat is treating it like the Main Event itself. The gold plated money clip only.  The cash in between, the Bat’s giant bankroll, will not be on the table.  Not that the Bat is afraid to play for rolls but the Bat’s coming back a bracelet winner come hell or high water.

Obviously, the best way to get a bracelet will be to mow down a giant field of players.  What will be even sweeter about the win will be the fact the bracelet will cost Harrahs more than any other bracelet?  Why’s that?  The Bat’s wrists, like most aspects of his body are thick, seen Russ Hamilton is his prime?  Think thicker, much thicker and less villainous, much less villainous.  So Harrahs will be biting the bullet and adding some links to the jewelry just to get it on the Bat’s mighty paw.

Onto number 2.  The Bat will break Phil Laak’s record for staying awake.  The fact, Laak chose to entertain himself by playing poker is in truth a side effect at best.  Stimulating the mind with a game like poker probably makes it easier to stay awake.  Doing a Google search on Phil Laak’s notorious past, look at the Asian rumors, probably makes one assume there are several other things going on that made I easier for Laak to stay awake.  The Bat doesn’t need the second but will be playing poker.

The Bat has of course stayed awake for longer than 150 hours straight playing poker.  The Bat didn’t take any namby pamby shower breaks either.  There was easy money to be won on the poker table and the funk of the Bat’s body only aided the Bat crush the game.  It’s hard to not be a winner when on a poker bender like that.  The Bat hears some kids in Austria are going to attempt the record together.  The Bat calls Bull’s Bollocks on that.   No friends soft playing each other.  The record has to be done in a game were people are trying to felt you.  The Bat will not publicize the casino he’s destroying when he’s setting the record but he does welcome anybody wanting to part him with his money.

Number 3 is self obvious.  The Bat will own the cash games at the Rio like the Bat does every world series.  Find the fat guy with all the chips and you’ve likely found the Bat.  Hope the Bat didn’t give away his location from objective number two.  If you think he didn’t, you need to learn how to read.

Number 4, the Poker Bat’s bonus objective:  shed some weight.   The Bat is going to shed and shred some weight this year?  How by exercising his brain.  The Bat plans to mentally will his pounds away as he’s sitting destroying poker games all over Las Vegas.  The idea is simply the Bat will visualize his butt fitting in one airplane seat, not having to buy the extra ticket for his ride home, and then imagine the fat melting like wax off his body.  The Bat just read the secret:  it has to work.

This Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat Part III–unfinished business

The Poker Bat usually gets a blog out every week and is a model of consistency, which is why the Bat’s blog should be as high on the Gulf Coast Poker.Net’s columns list as Doyle Brunson’s pants are on his waist. The Bat’s back, after killing in playing bwin poker, and the Bat will be posting more often, but speaking of nipple pants you ever notice as you get old your pants start to creep up to your shoulders.

Hugh Heffner figured out long ago, it was better to just throw a robe over those highriders than to let everybody see that diaper bulge coming out your crotch area up to your belly button. Wonder if Heffner has every played poker seems like he was too busy doing other things (or people) to bother with the game but he’d probably be a joy to have at the table. Just for the people railing him… so to speak. The Bat doesn’t doubt that the Heff is probably just killing Online Sit and go poker tournaments in his spare time.

The Bat ain’t wearing adult diapers yet but the Bat is still bitching about his least favorite things in poker, whether it’s on an online chat box or happening right before the Bat’s face. Let’s get with it and number seven is…

Dead Man’s Funk – Despite the obvious segue the Bat ain’t talking about the stink the comes up from Depends–what a weird name seems like it should be Dependable or Surely but not depends… like yeah they’ll do the job but it depends if you are wearing them right or the temperature outside is near 60 degrees, no when you are talking about wearing your number one or your number two there should be no depends about it. The Bat is actually we are talking about that flesh rot that old men can’t seem to get off their skin. It’s not that they don’t shower, or maybe it is, maybe they just can’t wipe the funk from the folds of their wrinkles, but whatever it is, they should fix it. Hell, take a bath in Old Spice if you must, or All Spice for that matter, don’t just come to the table smelling like the Spice Girls tour bus after a run in with an Marines unit.

The Dead Man’s funk is the reason the Bat will never offer all 320 pounds of Bat love to a Cougar type, even if she was Courtney Cox hot, and had the deep pockets to bankroll a losing poker career for the Bat (hey variance people can be a long twenty or forty year ordeal people), is because of the Dead Man’s funk. People should date (and dress) their age. Old people grow old together. Their noses stop working at the same time and their hearing gives out roughly at the same age. That way they don’t smell each other and they don’t hear themselves farting non-stop. Ashton Kutcher is one day going to wake up and look at his wrinkled Demi, hear her old lady flatulation, and smell her deteriorating skin, and wonder what happened to that flower he fell in love with. Think that boy won’t be out the door the day all of Moore’s farts become juicy? Then what’s Demi going to do cruise the early bird specials at the IHOP for single retirees? Date and marry your age people!

Anyway, as the Bat likes to do, the Bat has gone off the tracks. Old people if you smell like death douse yourself in something that masks it, if you can’t wash it off you but don’t come to the table reeking like a zombie. The Bat brushes his teeth, cleans his buttockaments, scrubs the heck out of his pits, and tries to have some general hygiene he expects the same courtesy. Obviously, long sessions bring funk, but the only time you should smell like a coffin is when you are in one.