a psalm for bad beats...

1. The Lord is my dealer, I should not want…
2. But how long, oh Lord, will we suffer the mocking of fools
3. My enemies mock me and draw to their 3 outers
4. They throw chip after chip in, and bring it back 10 fold.
5. Good play is useless to me….what good does raising with AK do for the man who is in Sheol. My enemies play 42 offsuit on an AK4 board and go runner runner boat.
6. My closest friends are in the muck, where they would have given me the nuts
7. but though I walk thru the valley of the shadow of bad beats, I shall fear no evil…Thine disciples Sklansky and Malmuth, they comfort me.
8. Even the nature of math herself comforts me for every 3 outer has 3 times where it doesn’t come in
9. though my bankroll languish and whither away, I shall be comforted in knowing I played the hand correctly.
10. and your patience is finite….these dumbasses cannot prosper forever.
11. I shall fear no WPT wannabe, playing a 50 buck tourney with shades and a hood, throwing Hellmuth tantrums and trying to stare me down.
12. I gird myself in the breastplate of good preflop strategy, the helm of the checkraise, the belt of the semi-bluff, and the boots of pot odds and I arm myself with the sword of the blind steal.
13. and I shall dwell in the game of poker forever, but not play Jesus, cause he always flops the nuts, AMEN.