A subreddit dedicated to the card game Blackjack for counters and casual players alike!
A collection of useful AnyDice snippets for calculating probabilities for tabletop roleplaying games.
I play a lot of 6 max PLO and would love an online calculator to let me know the odds I have the best hand based on the number of players in the hand.
I can crunch the numbers but would be so much easier if I could just enter the cards while analyzing my play on certain hands.
Now, in full ring or even a full table at 6 max, someone often has the nuts, but it’s not uncommon to play with 4 or less people where bluffing becomes a much bigger factor.
Would be nice to know, for example, how often my middle set or 2 pair is good 3 handed without having to crunch the numbers myself. Plus, I’ll probably make some mistake leading me to think I’m stronger or weaker than I actually am
submitted by I guess I’m what you’d call an addict. Junkie, even. Alcohol? No, I don’t touch the stuff. I
drink it, hahaha. Don’t need hands to do that, hence the punchline. Drugs? I mean, I dabble. Recreationally. Whatever you got, if it’s free, I’ll shoot it up, lick it, smoke it, stick under my eyelid, snort it right into my aorta. And I’m not particularly picky either. Captain Cody, Skag, Mud, Fidgeridoo, Herbal Speedball, Organ Oil, Demmies, Miss Emma, Kickers, Mrs. O, Yog-Sothamines, XTC, Sneeze, R-Balls; if you have them, I’ll take them. Still not addicted to the stuff though.
No, my one and only addiction is exceedingly simple, yet intolerably hard to satisfy;
FUCKED UP SHIT. I’m not talking about your everyday dark web snuff mind you. I need the
real deal. Something about my brain's incapability to shoot me up with dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin and endorphins (the D.O.S.E), according to several online doctors. So it’s a medical thing. Still haven’t scored a prescription for it though.
In any case, my
medical condition forces me to deep dive into the fuckiest corners of society. You have your dark underground clubs, murder parties, subteranean sickofests, torture theatres, decapitation diners, and the odd organ orgies, but what I really enjoy, what makes my D.O.S.E overflow, is the ones you never hear about. The ones you have to
find. No invitations, no RSVPs. One day they just pop up like a popcorn baby, and before you know it, they’re gone.
I’ve been to a few of these over the years, and they
never disappoint. I already told you about the Baby Killer Incident, yeah? Then you know what I’m talking about.
Fucked up shit!
I happened upon this particular one by Chance.
Chance being this stripper I know that’s into some ritualistic cannibalism or other (I don’t ask), and long story short she knew the sicko who was hosting the event. I was hesitant at first, this particular sicko placing fairly high on my shitlist of sickos, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers and all. Not to mention that my D.O.S.E-withdrawals were flaring up, making me in essence nothing more than a shivering sack of suicidal human tissue on the best of days.
So there I was in an abandoned mall, shivering sack of suicidal human tissue, idly accepting assorted drugs from random passer-by deviants taking a pity on me, when this guy comes up to me, all dressed up in a pink hazmat suit with a freaky unicorn horn (which, when I look back on it, was probably a massive drill-shaped dildo) stuck to his helmet, and he goes
Hey Tilly (that’s my name, Tilly),
Hey Tilly, he says.
I hear you like fucked up shit. Man, word gets around, I think to myself, but at the same time these loud fucking alarm bells starts going off in my head, accompanied by Soviet Union-amounts of red flags.
How the fuck do you know my name? I ask.
Your ears, he answers.
The guy told me to look for a man with fucked up ears. Well, you found’em, I say, making sure to twirl around all ballerina-like, highlighting my ugly-ass ear-stumps.
And what fucking guy gave you my name? That guy, he mumbles idly, not actually pointing to anyone.
Say, what happened to them? To who? Your, uh, ears. Oh, that, I say.
Sliced them off as a punchline in an elaborate Van Gogh-joke. Well, two seperate jokes, actually. Both Van Gogh-related though. The guy nods, maybe smiles, but I can’t really tell because of the dildo-helmet, and beckons for me to follow him. Now, I don’t normally follow strange men into bathrooms, but sometimes that’s exactly what you should do. I guess learning when to do it, and when
not to do it is an integral skill in this setting, but you’ll figure it out one way or another, so don’t worry too much about it.
Anyway, into the bathroom we go. Like the rest of the place it’s spotless, meaning there isn’t a single fucking spot that isn’t covered in grime or dirt or bodily fluids of some description, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust as the guy waves me into an empty stall at the far end of it.
I hesitate momentarily, my mind doing some olympic-levels of mental gymnastics to calculate the risk/reward-ratio of my current situation. I land on an even 50/50 - good enough - and I saunter into the stall, only to realise it’s not a bathroom stall at all.
Unexpected, I say, my D.O.S.E-levels elevating ever so slightly.
The guy starts descending the winding staircase leading god-knows-where, looking back at me when he notices I’m still just standing there sheepishly.
You coming or what? he asks.
Fuck no, I think to myself.
Yeah, I say.
Now, I’m no architect, but I’ll hazard a guess and propose that winding staircases are a rare find in your standard mall bathroom, abandoned or not.
This wasn’t always a mall, was it? I ask.
Good eye, the guy answers.
Used to be a church. I guess capitalism always wins, huh? I just nod, soon enough realising these fucking stairs are neverending, like one of those spirals you see in old movies, you know, when someone is getting hypnotised? Then I think back on this woman I met when I was young. Younger? Time man, it’s always going somewhere, and I never really bothered catching up to it. Anyway, I think back on this woman I bumped into on the street, and how she out of the blue asks me if I’d seen her job, and I was like
what the fuck do you mean? I’ve lost my job, she says.
It’s always in the last place you look, I note.
That’s really helpful, she says unironically.
Say, could you help me with something else? What? Do you know, she starts.
Do you know how to rewind a winding staircase? I don’t know man, that shit always stuck with me. Some kind of riddle? An elaborate joke? A covert Operation Mindfuck? Escaped lunatic lingo? In any case, that’s how I felt when we descended those stairs. Like I was rewinding a winding staircase.
Here we are then, the guy suddenly exclaims, bringing me out of my temporal trip down memory lane.
I am wildly underwhelmed at this point, but after letting my eyes get used to the dimly lit basement chamber, I can feel my brain starting to upchuck some good fucking shit into my system.
Champagne? the guy asks, beckoning to a rather unbecoming rat-faced girl in the corner to come hither with a tray of alcoholic beverages.
Don’t mind if I’m already two steps ahead of you, I think, having snatched a bottle I found sitting by the stairs. I pop it open, and enjoy the weird expressions on their faces as I chug the whole fucking thing in a manner of seconds. Tastes like an aging puke-shit hybrid, but my think-organ seems to enjoy it, and I’m not one to start a fight with my own fucking brain.
I watch the two of them trade looks of confusion, realisation, and then something I (falsely) identify as fear, then turn my attention to the tied up naked man at the far end of the room. I think I forgot to mention him, but he was there too. In fact, he was the sole reason my D.O.S.E was elevating - the prospect of some kind of fucked up torture show enough to get my juices flowing.
Now what? the girl asks.
Do we tell him? Fuck it, the guy says, and then proceeds to bash half of my skull in with a crowbar.
You know the part in every fucking action movie where the main character knocks some poor unnamed henchman unconscious? Do you realise how fucking dangerous that is? Concussions are silent killers man. Could’ve inflicted some serious brain damage too. Those fuckers can fuck you up for life.
Anyway, I guess I must’ve been out for a few, because when I woke up, I found myself dangling from the ceiling, my body suspended mid-air by some rather sturdy-looking chains.
You fucked up royally this time Tilly, the dildo-helmet proposed.
If my jaw hadn’t felt like someone had ripped it out, then jammed it back in the wrong way around, I probably would have responded with a witty remark. As circumstances were though, I felt forced to reply with a half-hearted
Guh? Let’s show you exactly how much you fucked up, the guy says.
My mind slips in and out of what I assume is consciousness, but it’s like my thoughts are torn in half; one side continuously trying to make sense of what I’m seeing, and the other rapidly filling with nausea-inducing dread. Both are fucking screaming though, my stump-ears somehow hearing the inside of my mind lamenting as it drowns slowly in an all-consuming madness.
The naked man screams too, but he’s more physical about it. How can a supposedly regular set of lungs contain that much air, I find myself thinking. His skin is a deep shade of red, some of it undoubtedly caused by lack of oxygen, some of it by the ever-growing stream of blood ceaselessly dripping down from his soon-to-be empty eye-socket.
Pull it Ems! the guy yells.
The rat-faced girl, Ems, has this horrid fucking grin on her face. You know how an old lemon looks, like a really shrivelled up piece of lemon? All wrinkles and browning leathery texture? That was her face. All fucking rotting wrinkled lemon texture smiles.
Pull it! Ems got the naked man’s eye firmly gripped between her thumb and index, long dirty fingernails digging into the spongy vitreous, having now pulled it about an inch or so outside of the poor fucker’s socket. And I can just tell by her posture that she’s readying herself for that final, horrible yank.
I want to close my eyes so badly at this point, you know, just fucking succumb to the madness my brain is desperately conjuring up to save me, but at the same time I can’t. I physically cannot get my eyelids to work. I don’t know why, but that fucking fact freaks me out more than anything else going on.
And then it happens. With a swift, overly dramatic motion, she rips the fucking eye all the way out, and the man’s tormented shrieks reaches sonic levels that transcends human hearing. My ears are ringing, my mind is swirling, and my eyes are itching.
Watch this Tilly, the guy says coldly.
Watch this fucking shit real closely. And I do. Barely conscious at this point, hanging onto sanity only by fucking ignoring reality as a concept, I watch as Ems drops the severed eye to the dirty grime-covered floor, the disgusting fucking thing still somehow connected to the man via the optical nerves - impossibly long squirming crimson tendrils.
What the fuck? I mumble.
I told you, the guy chuckles.
I fucking told you. It’s hard to say how many there were. Countless maybe. Countless and then some, probably. Thin crimson worms, entangled in each other, organically interwoven to form a disgusting chain from the naked man’s empty eye socket to the severed eye on the floor. I could see them slithering in perfect repulsive unison, and suddenly the eye starts...moving.
This is the best part, the guy says.
The squirming chain slowly starts retracting, the blue of the eye turning a savory shade of grime-grey as it is dragged across the floor, up the naked man's legs, stomach, neck, face, until finally, after what seems like an eternity, it pops right back into the socket with a repulsive
gloooph.
My stomach wants me to vomit now, but it’s barren and dry and empty and sour, so instead my brain takes control, a tempting blank void all the way in the back of my mind presented as a possible solution. But they won’t let me go. Ems erupts in a maniacal laughter, like the sound of a chainsaw on rough concrete, and the guy soon follows. I feel the muscles in my back contracting all seizure-like; more than likely my body’s last desperate attempt at shutting me down.
The naked man has stopped screaming now, the tortured wails replaced by a deep gargle, slime and blood mixed together in the back of his throat. Maybe his nightmare will end, I think, but then I realise it won’t. It hasn’t. It’s still going.
The eye is still moving.
Being dragged now
inside his skull, I see the spongy texture of it bending and morphing hideously as it squeezes past bone structures that are by far too fucking narrow, and then it disappears completely, accompanied by a soundscape of
gloophs and
schlucks.
The man topples over, still tied to the chair, and convulses in agony for minutes, until it all suddenly stops.
I have never experienced such silence. That’s how I imagine space, you know. A great old big fucking vast empty nothingness of all the senses.
And now, the guy says, standing over the corpse of the naked man.
Now it is your turn. Ems hideous face morphs into that smile again. Big old lemon wrinkled smile. I remember her crooked yellow fingernails so vividly, horrid jagged things inching closer and closer to my eye, until I could feel them scraping on my exposed pupil.
I guess my mind found a way out right then. Fucking took it long enough though, but I figure I must have passed out, maybe from the pain, maybe from the fear, maybe from the exhaustion. Most likely neither of those, though.
When I woke up, I was alone, face down in my own sour-dry vomit on the ground. No naked corpse man, no dildo-helmet guy, no lemon-smiled Ems. I spent a good fifteen minutes checking my eyes, trembling fingers tracing them, you know, just to see if they were still there. And they were. They were fucking solid. They were fucking perfect.
I guess I spent a few weeks or so recuperating from that shit, but I’ve never felt quite the same. Turns out there’s a reason for that.
It’s weird you know, how I didn’t realise it sooner. I might be a fucked up piece of shit, but I’m no dummy. Gotta hand it to them though, it was a clever way to do it. Offering you a drink. I guess that’s how they got it in the naked man too. I suppose that’s why they told me
I fucked up. Took too much, as the saying goes. Chugged the whole infestation.
I cut myself shaving this morning. Just a tiny nick, you know. But where you’d expect blood, there was none. Instead I was greeted with the unseemly sight of a thin crimson worm, dangling restlessly by my nose.
Now if that’s not some FUCKED UP SHIT, I don’t know
what is. TCC We're no longer in the realm of Magical Christmas Land.
(Maybe Magical Yuletide Land, cuz Kaldheim). Unless an emergency errata, rules change, or ban comes our way, turn 4 Tibalt, Cosmic Imposter is something that your deck will need to prepare an answer for.
To clarify, we're not talking about Turbo Tibalt where we warp our whole deck around cascade cards with no other 1-2 CMC cards like a new Living End variant. We're talking about a 2021 powercreeped revamp of good ole classic Jund Midrange, which suddenly has a 22% chance (hypothetically at least) of dumping out 10 mana worth of cards on turn 4. Who's the Tron deck now?
First, let me introduce a sample brew that I'll be running my calculations through. It also has a deck tech with information about how the combo works for the uninitiated, as well as more detail on my card choices (like why I'm running Magmatic Channeler over Tarmogoyf):
Jund Tibalt Midrange Second, let me introduce you to the
Hypergeometric Calculator. This is how you can calculate for all things statistical in Magic or other card games.
(I know you always wondered about the chances of opening Exodia. Hint: (40, 5, 5, 5)). My calculations after each item will follow the format of the four fields descending (Population size, Number of successes in population, Sample Size, Number of successes in sample) and will use the last cumulative probability of P (X>=x) in each case, since we only need at least one of each card in question. So onto the math; you can skip to the following section if you aren't interested in the calculations.
***************
To get it out of the way, the simplest calculation is the chance of cascading Bloodbraid Elf into Tibalt with zero setup. There are 32 possible cascade results, and 4 of them are Valki/Tibalt. So that's a 4/32 = 1/8 chance of lucksacking into Tibalt.
Another consideration (I went into further detail in my deck tech, see my first link) is that if you have a Valki in hand, getting it into the grave for the Witch's Cottage setup is so trivial that I'm considering it 100%. We literally only play two spells (both Kroxas) in our deck that are unable to put Valki in our grave, not to mention that our opponents will do us the favor most of the time.
The last note I'll make is that proper land sequencing with this deck means playing your shocks first and saving at least one fetch/Witch's Cottage for our BBE turn. The assumption is that if you draw only one of these lands, you'll save it for last.
Assuming we keep our 7 and are on the play:
- Chance to draw at least one Valki by turn 3 (60, 4, 9, 1): 0.487526531
- Chance to draw at least one BBE by turn 4 (60, 4, 10, 1): 0.527720529
- Chance of drawing at least one fetch/Witch's Cottage by turn 4 (60, 12, 10, 1): 0.913246233
- Chance of drawing at least four lands by turn 4 (60, 24, 10,4): 0.631785373
- Chance of getting to set up a guaranteed BBE into Tibalt on turn 4: 0.487526531 * 0.527720529 * 0.913246233 * 0.631785373 = 0.14844299234
- Chance of drawing BBE and hitting Tibalt in the blind on turn 4: 0.527720529 * 0.631785373 * 1/8 = 0.0416757639
- Chance of turn 4 Tibalt, either with setup or blind cascade: 0.14844299234 + 0.0416757639 = 0.19011875624
Now assume we keep our 7 and are on the draw. Just do all the equations from above but increase the sample size by 1 to account for the extra card draw.
- T3 Valki (60, 4, 10, 1): 0.527720529
- T4 BBE (60, 4, 11, 1): 0.565502886
- T4 fetch/Cottage (60, 12, 11, 1): 0.934067137
- T4 4 lands (60, 24, 11,4): 0.725906831
- T4 set up: 0.20234747561
- T4 blind: 0.05131280098
- T4 Tibalt: 0.25366027659
Since we'll be on the play about half the time and on the draw half the time, we take the average between these two: (0.19011875624 + 0.25366027659) / 2 =
0.22188951641. So there's our hypothetical 22% chance.
Now hypothetical Magic and actual Magic aren't the same, since we now introduce the unpredictable and immeasurable aspects of decision making and player interaction. Aspects that increase our odds of turn 4 Tibalt:
- our ability to mulligan to hands that have more of our combo pieces
- our ability to see extra cards with Magmatic Channeler and Seasoned Pyromancer
- our ability to deck thin a tiny bit with fetches
Aspects that decrease odds of turn 4 Tibalt:
- interaction the opponent has that could disrupt our combo
- Modern is crazy and you can die before you even get a turn 4
***************
Of course, turn 4 isn't the only turn that putting 10 mana (I consider the actual 3/2 haste body of BBE to be worth 3 mana, so 3+7) worth of cards on the board is viable. This combo is still great turn 5 and 6 and so on, and to calculate those odds, you do the same calculations above but add 1 to the sample size for each turn. I won't bother crunching out all those numbers, but I guestimate that in the duration of the average Jund vs fair deck game, there's around a 50% cumulative chance of getting to cast Tibalt off BBE at some point. And all the times you're not cascading into Tibalt, guess what? You get to play as a vanilla Jund/Rakdos Midrange deck splashing BBE. This will be an exciting time to be a Jund player for sure, now that the world's fairest deck has such an unfair trick up its sleeve!
First off, Welcome to the City limits of St. Louis. You're going to love it here but there may be some things that you may not be familiar with that may make you say, "WTF?"
To help you avoid saying "WTF" I decided to create a (hopefully) useful guide on how to take care of some things both once you've immediately moved in to the City and for a few months down the road on somethings that you may need to/want to expect. This post was compiled (completely unscientifically) from gripes and common questions I've read and heard from people moving here. I'll do my best to keep this as brief as possible so let's dive right in.
Taxes The biggest change will be to your paystub. By moving into the City you are now responsible for remitting 1% of your pay to the City as part of the Earnings tax. This tax funds roughly 1/3rd of the City budget. This tax is collected regardless if you work outside of the City limits or remotely (though if you work in Illinois or for a company located in another state you may get a Credit when you go to file your state and federal taxes that may cover a portion of the tax). First thing you should do is check with your employer on if they are withholding the 1% earnings tax from your paycheck. The earnings tax deadline is the same as the Federal and State deadline, if your employer is withholding the amount it will show up on your W2, if not then you will need to go to
The Collector of Revenue's Website and download the appropriate forms and send them in along with payment. You can also use
PayITSTL but I have not used that to pay the Earnings tax before. The Collector of Revenue does not know the date you moved in so they will automatically seek out a full year of back taxes if you don't file so make sure you have the appropriate documents to show when you moved into St. Louis so they do not over-charge you.
Personal Property Taxes. By moving into MO you will be on the hook for "Personal Property Taxes". These taxes are on property you own, like Cars, Boats, ATVs, Trailers etc. How this works is when you want to register your vehicle in the State of Missouri you need to get what is called a waiver of non-assessment via the Assessor's office. You will either need to bring with you the Vehicle title(s) or Bill of Sale(s) you wish to register and your ID, it is also a good idea to bring something with your name on it with your new address, just makes the process a bit smoother (Insurance cards are probably the quickest and easiest to get if you haven't received a utility bill yet). You can also do this online if you want to via e-mail. Due to COVID you will have to wait in the
virtual lobby to enter City Hall, enter on the CLARK st side of City Hall, NOT the Tucker Entrance. Once you get a text message it is your turn you have 20 minutes to get inside for your appointment.
Assessor's website and information on the tax waiver. In November you will get a Personal Property Tax bill for year that is due by Dec. 31st. Next year in January you will receive a declaration of assessment to declare the personal property you owned which you can either mail back the form or declare online.
Property taxes (Real Estate). If you purchased a home in the City, first off, congrats you found one in this hot market (as of 1/26/21). You likely don't have to do anything since your Property taxes will more than likely be paid out of your escrow account but, if you did pay all cash the Collector of Revenue's website makes it easy to pay your Property Taxes via
PayIT STL. Some newer construction or rehabbed homes may carry a tax abatement which means you're paying a fraction of the assessed value as property taxes. Be sure to check with your Realtor or the City for how long is left on that tax abatement so you don't get surprised by a massive increase in taxes and a shortage in your escrow as time goes on while you are in your home. Real-Estate property is assessed on the odd numbered years so this year is an assessment year so you will receive a notice in April of what your property is going to be assessed at and what your estimated property tax will be. If you feel that assessment is unfair you can refer to the documents included to appeal the assessment just be ready by using the assessor's website to collect evidence of other similar homes to see what property taxes they are paying compared to yours, doing this you may find it isn't in your best interest if everyone else is paying around a similar amount.
Water, Sewer, Trash...OH MY I'll preface this by saying most landlords include these three things in rent but not in all instances so please read if you are on the hook for these things if you're a renter. Additionally if you're in a Condo building or are part of an HOA these may be covered in those fees you pay. In the City, every 3 months you are on the hook for a combined bill for Water and Trash. Water is not (always) calculated by the usage rather a flat rate based upon the number of toilets/water closets/bath tubs etc you have in your home and if you have a pool (unless you have a water meter which is rare in the city). At some point you will want to go to the
Water division's website and fill-out and sign and return the application so your water does not get shut off. Trash service will be included in this bill as well and will show up as a separate line item.
Sewer service is through MSD, to set up an account
contact MSD if you have not received a bill, most title companies will do this for you at closing so the bill should just show up when it is due. Sewer service will be way more expensive than Water service because MSD had not been doing the necessary upgrades to keep up with Federal regulations and standards, I know, it sucks but we gotta pay it.
Utilities and Internet Service Ameren Missouri (electric) Spire Energy (natural gas) AT&T Spectrum Helpful Links How to Register your Car, Get a MO (REAL) ID, and register to vote if you just moved here in the least amount of time/trips Will I save money by getting a Water Meter installed? Citizens Services Bureau (CSB) This is the best way to get a response from a City service because it creates a paper trail, whether it be a street light out, Bulk trash pick-up missed, or a pothole that needs to be patched CSB will help open a ticket with the appropriate service to get the issue addressed. They can also be reached by phone at 314-622-4800 during normal business hours M-F.
Neighborhood Stabilization Office If CSB is not responsive or you have a question about an issue that you can't find on the CSB site? Find your Neighborhood Stabilization Officer for your ward to assist.
St. Louis City Police Non-Emergency Line 314-231-1212
Upcoming Election dates Metro Transit Schedules and Maps Have a Roll-out cart? Not sure when to put out that piece of furniture? Look up your Trash service schedule here also get a Blue Recycle bin for
$1 There are a ton of neighborhood associations that meet regularly to discuss issues facing their neighborhoods, the city, how to improve the neighborhoods, meet with your Alderman, Police outreach officer and just meet to get to know your neighbors. I highly recommend googling yours or checking to see if there is a Facebook group as those would be the best way to get in touch with those resources.
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