Doug Lee, biggest toolbox ever?
08-03-2010
, 03:23 AM
08-03-2010
, 05:36 PM
I did some research and found a way to bust Doug Lee in Roshambo. Use the 'Avalanche' to counter his obvious gambit...
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
see ya on the felt!
Doug Lee biggest toolbox
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
see ya on the felt!
Doug Lee biggest toolbox
Last edited by troll_itt; 08-03-2010 at 05:41 PM.
Reason: used thumbnail oops
08-03-2010
, 05:40 PM
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
Im an obv wimp so I didn't actually edit this (this is just preview page) but perhaps editing Doug's wiki is the wrong way to go about it??
08-04-2010
, 06:38 PM
Saw this link in another thread. Doug Lee could use the nomination. 
http://www.moronregistry.com/index.html
http://www.moronregistry.com/index.html
08-05-2010
, 11:02 PM
I sighted Doug Lee two days.
It was nearing morning. I’d been sitting at the 2/5 game at the Venetian for the entire night, holding my own against some really aggressive players. I had watched three players bust out in the final hour - the last guy taking a terrible beat on the river, a King or Jack came (I can't remember which) making his opponent's flush.
It was only minutes after that hand when Doug Lee entered. He was oddly quiet - something was on his mind, but he refused to say. He had the look in his eye of a man who didn't know where he was or how he got there. A hazardous look. I think we all noticed it, even the dealer, for she never asked him for his ID-badge or his name. He simply sat down without a word, as if that seat had been waiting patiently for him all night to fill it.
In the next half hour he proceeded to bluff away all his chips. He was making mad plays, with a hand-range like machine gun fire. But with every play, his opponent held him by the nuts. No one ever bet to him: again and again they let him take his own bullets as he vainly fired out on every street – desperate to win one pot at least. Then, holding his last chip like the sacred Eucharist, he fell away from the table, half in a daze, dashing away without looking back a single time.
But I followed him, chasing him, as he strode outside. He never knew I was there, until finally, looking back he found me eagerly trailing him. He smiled and with a motion of his finger, like that of an exposed spy bringing me into his confidence, I came up right to him. The alley was dark, but a ring on Doug’s finger glimmered with supernatural fire, illuminating his face.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, knowing that I hungered to hear him speak.
“Doug Lee,” I said. “Tell me this, you just lost over $4,000 like it was nothing. Tell me please from where you get the capital that lets you play like a maniac and never win.”
“It’s not Doug Lee, but Doug Who.”
“Doug Who?” I repeated, for I didn’t know at all what he meant. Then I saw it behind him, a red monolith, with a dawning glow upon it, and I had but a second to extract my camera from my pocket and take this sole picture before it was gone, and with it, so was he:
It was nearing morning. I’d been sitting at the 2/5 game at the Venetian for the entire night, holding my own against some really aggressive players. I had watched three players bust out in the final hour - the last guy taking a terrible beat on the river, a King or Jack came (I can't remember which) making his opponent's flush.
It was only minutes after that hand when Doug Lee entered. He was oddly quiet - something was on his mind, but he refused to say. He had the look in his eye of a man who didn't know where he was or how he got there. A hazardous look. I think we all noticed it, even the dealer, for she never asked him for his ID-badge or his name. He simply sat down without a word, as if that seat had been waiting patiently for him all night to fill it.
In the next half hour he proceeded to bluff away all his chips. He was making mad plays, with a hand-range like machine gun fire. But with every play, his opponent held him by the nuts. No one ever bet to him: again and again they let him take his own bullets as he vainly fired out on every street – desperate to win one pot at least. Then, holding his last chip like the sacred Eucharist, he fell away from the table, half in a daze, dashing away without looking back a single time.
But I followed him, chasing him, as he strode outside. He never knew I was there, until finally, looking back he found me eagerly trailing him. He smiled and with a motion of his finger, like that of an exposed spy bringing me into his confidence, I came up right to him. The alley was dark, but a ring on Doug’s finger glimmered with supernatural fire, illuminating his face.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, knowing that I hungered to hear him speak.
“Doug Lee,” I said. “Tell me this, you just lost over $4,000 like it was nothing. Tell me please from where you get the capital that lets you play like a maniac and never win.”
“It’s not Doug Lee, but Doug Who.”
“Doug Who?” I repeated, for I didn’t know at all what he meant. Then I saw it behind him, a red monolith, with a dawning glow upon it, and I had but a second to extract my camera from my pocket and take this sole picture before it was gone, and with it, so was he:
08-06-2010
, 01:13 AM
08-06-2010
, 04:58 AM
08-06-2010
, 09:49 AM
08-06-2010
, 12:59 PM
Quote:
I sighted Doug Lee two days.
It was nearing morning. I’d been sitting at the 2/5 game at the Venetian for the entire night, holding my own against some really aggressive players. I had watched three players bust out in the final hour - the last guy taking a terrible beat on the river, a King or Jack came (I can't remember which) making his opponent's flush.
It was only minutes after that hand when Doug Lee entered. He was oddly quiet - something was on his mind, but he refused to say. He had the look in his eye of a man who didn't know where he was or how he got there. A hazardous look. I think we all noticed it, even the dealer, for she never asked him for his ID-badge or his name. He simply sat down without a word, as if that seat had been waiting patiently for him all night to fill it.
In the next half hour he proceeded to bluff away all his chips. He was making mad plays, with a hand-range like machine gun fire. But with every play, his opponent held him by the nuts. No one ever bet to him: again and again they let him take his own bullets as he vainly fired out on every street – desperate to win one pot at least. Then, holding his last chip like the sacred Eucharist, he fell away from the table, half in a daze, dashing away without looking back a single time.
But I followed him, chasing him, as he strode outside. He never knew I was there, until finally, looking back he found me eagerly trailing him. He smiled and with a motion of his finger, like that of an exposed spy bringing me into his confidence, I came up right to him. The alley was dark, but a ring on Doug’s finger glimmered with supernatural fire, illuminating his face.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, knowing that I hungered to hear him speak.
“Doug Lee,” I said. “Tell me this, you just lost over $4,000 like it was nothing. Tell me please from where you get the capital that lets you play like a maniac and never win.”
“It’s not Doug Lee, but Doug Who.”
“Doug Who?” I repeated, for I didn’t know at all what he meant. Then I saw it behind him, a red monolith, with a dawning glow upon it, and I had but a second to extract my camera from my pocket and take this sole picture before it was gone, and with it, so was he:
It was nearing morning. I’d been sitting at the 2/5 game at the Venetian for the entire night, holding my own against some really aggressive players. I had watched three players bust out in the final hour - the last guy taking a terrible beat on the river, a King or Jack came (I can't remember which) making his opponent's flush.
It was only minutes after that hand when Doug Lee entered. He was oddly quiet - something was on his mind, but he refused to say. He had the look in his eye of a man who didn't know where he was or how he got there. A hazardous look. I think we all noticed it, even the dealer, for she never asked him for his ID-badge or his name. He simply sat down without a word, as if that seat had been waiting patiently for him all night to fill it.
In the next half hour he proceeded to bluff away all his chips. He was making mad plays, with a hand-range like machine gun fire. But with every play, his opponent held him by the nuts. No one ever bet to him: again and again they let him take his own bullets as he vainly fired out on every street – desperate to win one pot at least. Then, holding his last chip like the sacred Eucharist, he fell away from the table, half in a daze, dashing away without looking back a single time.
But I followed him, chasing him, as he strode outside. He never knew I was there, until finally, looking back he found me eagerly trailing him. He smiled and with a motion of his finger, like that of an exposed spy bringing me into his confidence, I came up right to him. The alley was dark, but a ring on Doug’s finger glimmered with supernatural fire, illuminating his face.
“What can I do for you?” he asked, knowing that I hungered to hear him speak.
“Doug Lee,” I said. “Tell me this, you just lost over $4,000 like it was nothing. Tell me please from where you get the capital that lets you play like a maniac and never win.”
“It’s not Doug Lee, but Doug Who.”
“Doug Who?” I repeated, for I didn’t know at all what he meant. Then I saw it behind him, a red monolith, with a dawning glow upon it, and I had but a second to extract my camera from my pocket and take this sole picture before it was gone, and with it, so was he:
This is awesome.
08-06-2010
, 06:04 PM
Quote:
wow amazing job with that photoshop. The only thing that bothers me is size and position of 2+2. It should be little smaller than legend and put between AM and Legend but other tham that it is fenomenal
edit:
you can also make ring little more shiny or just put some sort of sun reflection near it
edit:
you can also make ring little more shiny or just put some sort of sun reflection near it
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Last edited by sleepathon; 08-06-2010 at 06:24 PM.
08-06-2010
, 06:14 PM
Note the "did you mean" suggestion
YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH
Unfortunately the 2+2 thread is bumped to number 4 or 5 on links that come up for Doug Lee, toolbox, canadien toolbox doug lee poker tool box snapon
Last edited by Acesfullofgarbage; 08-06-2010 at 06:15 PM.
Reason: did you mean doug lee tool box?
08-07-2010
, 09:33 AM
08-07-2010
, 12:52 PM
08-07-2010
, 12:56 PM
08-07-2010
, 01:04 PM
Quote:
Not to be a nit, but scrambling the cards is an important step of the deal despite no tourney dealers ever following proper procedure. This is more to do with people being able to track clusters of known cards in the shuffle. I know approximately what cards are more likely with some dealers no scramble, haphazard 3 riffle and cut lazy shuffles. I am usually not paying attention, but when I see a weak dealer I pay attention to this rather than ask for a wash. This is especially true of high stakes cash when nobody else could possibly be paying attention to such things.
I guess this makes me more of a toolbox than doug, but I am there to make money. A deck sans scramble is randomized after 7 riffles, but there is still a slight possibility of shuffle tracking for a non scrambled deck. I would rather see dealers always riffle at least 7 times more then waste time scrambling them.
I guess this makes me more of a toolbox than doug, but I am there to make money. A deck sans scramble is randomized after 7 riffles, but there is still a slight possibility of shuffle tracking for a non scrambled deck. I would rather see dealers always riffle at least 7 times more then waste time scrambling them.
loooool i love how y ou preface this with "not to be a nit", then go on the nittiest nit rant about something that is totally not true and ******ed. You think online poker is rigged too don't you?
08-07-2010
, 08:17 PM
08-07-2010
, 08:39 PM
