Dan Bilzerian is getting laid, a lot...

...and he wants you to know about it.

Bilzzo hadn't really popped up on my radar until today, when I read a DM (I'm trying to stop, really, I am) article about a girl, or PORNSTAR as the DM are keen for you to realise, who might be suing him for throwing her off a roof into his swimming pool. She was naked, but it was consensual throwing apparently. According to the DM, The Bilzerator is an Instagram King, which is totally a title worth having, so I decided to look him up. He's a poker player, actor and professional beard-grower and he takes pictures of guns, cars, cash, hot women and his cat. That's what you're getting.

Bilzzy somehow manages to be buffed up, yet squidgy looking, like in that episode of Friends when Joey wears loads of layers of clothing in order to protect himself from a girl that likes to punch him.
I also don't like his sheets. Purple? Satin? We all know that crisp, white sheets are what you want. Why? Because that's what you get in hotels and people always have totally hot sex in hotels.

It becomes apparent after a few pictures that Bilzzers lives in a swingin' bachelor pad. It's definitely a sex house alright. Let's put it this way, if I ever end up in his house (I feel like it's a statistical inevitability) I won't be able to butter my toast without using a thoroughly sterilised chopping board, as quickly using the work surface would definitely result in me eating a pubic hair.

Naturally, the guns, the referring to women as 'pussy' and the constant touting of his embarrassed looking cat has him crossed off my Christmas card list.

I know, his account should have sent me into a feminist rage or inspired me to write something meaningful about the culture of poker and masculinity and gender stereotypes, but it's a Saturday and I'm having a social life in a bit. Mainly, as I scrolled through the last 30 weeks of snaps, I couldn't help but imagine some of the conversations that went on (probably) before the picture was taken.
 Here's what I came up with-

They're kissing, it's hot, they're grabbing at clothes and pulling. Abruptly, Dan tears his mouth away and gives her chin skin a break from his face hairs and says “I've just thought of a great pun. Go over there and bend over...Hang on, do it again, I swiped it onto record by accident.”

“Take off your hoody and squeeze your boobs together.”
“But Dan, it's freezing on this plane, the air con” she points upwards, “you know?”
“Just do it, I've got a great line about you being barely legal.”

“Oh my god! Put these shades on the cat!”
“Ok, I'm just gonna catch this last bit of sun, but-”
“No, do it now, do it now!”
“Ok, let me just find my bikini top...”
“No, leave it. We'll say it's a catbra! Yeah, that's funny, a catbra...”
“...a catbra?”

“Ok. So. We've got the gun, the ass and the cat. Anything else you're into? Anything else that sums up you and your life to distant relatives?”
“Nope. Just those three.”

 “...cats are sometimes called “pussies” and she's a woman with a...Yep, totally works.”

Not a conversation, but anyone who's ever owned a cat knows that you only have to shift your leg slightly on the sofa for them to throw you a look of disdain and stalk off to another room in the house, so I find the chances of this cat sticking around to watch Dan bang very slim, very slim indeed.


















Do I hate the guy?

Not particularly.

He's not doing anything that at least 15 people that I know wouldn't do. It's essentially just a quicker, more wide reaching, way of walking into the office and yawning in a loud and exaggerated manner whilst telling everyone that you got NO sleep last night, that you were up SO late last night, wink.