I take it back.
Once upon a time, I made a rash promise.
I try really, really hard to keep promises I make. But it has become clear that this one was foolhardy; I am just not that noble a person. On the other hand, the motivation had some merit: who wants a Bad Beat Story inflicted upon them unwittingly?
What to do?
I have created a little quarantine ~ a gulag, if you will ~ for the BBSs of our lives. When it all becomes just too much to keep to yourself, c'mon over to The Book of Bad Beats and vent. Misery loves company, after all, and don't we all feel that our particular beat is the very worstest of them all?
Or, for those of you who feel Bad Beats are usually the victim's fault, feel free to analyse via a comment just exactly what the alleged "sufferer" did horribly, horribly wrong to bring on an inevitable and well-deserved fate.
So, this blog will remain a no-BBS zone: none of my readers will have their eyes defiled unless they choose to go visit The BoBB. If you want either to wallow in miserable company or to indulge in the sweet, sweet sensation of superiority brought on by schadenfreude, now you know what to do.
See? Fun for everyone!!!
[Update: First example submitted and posted. Check it out!]
Labels: BoBB, laughs, meta, tilt
posted by Cardgrrl @ 6:53 PM
3 Comments:
'Misery loves company, after all, and don't we all feel that our particular beat is the very worstest of them all?'
I often quip that no-one runs like Forrest Gump, but I'm not the cards. I wonder what positives you can draw from dwelling on bad beats? Is it like looking at your hole cards when everyone folds to you in the BB?
FG
Railing you in the 50/50....must be frustrating to see all those players giving their chips away with bottom pairs as you sit and fold, and fold, and fold. Good luck.
Interesting to see that Forrest Gump commented here. Don't you just feel sometimes that our poker success is almost like the feather in Forrest Gump -- randomly changing directions with the blowing wind, unable to control its own destiny ...
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