Woot! I'm back from my visit with Pops Sparkles in New Jersey. I am sure I'll be regaling you with various related stories in the coming days, because oh my lord there are some stories to tell, but at the moment I'm just basking in the glow of being back home. The trip was great, I had fun with Pops Sparkles and Stepmother Sparkles, and being away from the office was the icing on the Awesome Cake.
Truth be known though, I'm ready to get back to work and reclaim my title of Productive Member of Society. There are many people who can do great deeds even though their livelihood doesn't depend on it, but clearly I am not one of those people. I got back into town last night, and today I spent my last day of vacation eating Crunch N' Munch and watching Agatha Christie mystery movies on tv. The fact that I managed to hoist my fat ass off the sofa to go to TinkleTown rather than urinate on the sofa was a small victory.
Anyway, there were any number of high points to my visit, but the day we spent at Belmont Park was among the most memorable. I've grown up with thoroughbred racing and have watched races at Belmont Park on television, so it was a real treat to go there in person. It's located on Long Island, and in order to get there from New Jersey we had to drive through The Bronx. On a Yankees vs Mets game day. Ugh. I've never been a fan of baseball (a fact that my once-professional-baseball-playing father finds more than a bit disturbing) but now I hate it more than ever. Sitting on the George Washington Bridge with nothing more to do than stare for 45 minutes at cars full of foam fingers and drunk face painters can do that to you.
Long story short, we made it through the city and onto Long Island to Belmont. Once there, I dutifully studied my Racing Digest, made my picks, and proceeded to lose each race. There are some bastards around there somewhere. It had to be a conspiracy, because it sure as shit couldn't be my legendary handicapping skills. (You may recall that these same legendary skills led me to select Cowtown Cat to win this year's Kentucky Derby. You may also recall that Cowtown Cat finished dead last.) Anyway, at one point I found myself with a $4 betting voucher that I didn't know what to do with. I noticed that a horse whose morning odds had been 5-1 had dropped like a rock to 14-1. He seemed to be as perfectly sound as he had been that morning, i.e. he still had all four feet and both eyeballs, so I figured what the hell. I plopped down my throwaway $4 voucher on some fool called Leadwithyourchin.
Here is a pictorial illustration of the last moments of that particular race:
There are four horses at the front. Leadwithyourchin is on the outside. I was cautiously optimistic at this point. I've been burned too many times before, and I'm no sucker. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
You can see here that my horse (#4), wearing the yellow saddlecloth, is starting to pull away. It was right around this time that I started screaming like a little girl and jumping around like I was on a pogo stick.
And this is when I wet myself.
Ah, good times.
Truth be known though, I'm ready to get back to work and reclaim my title of Productive Member of Society. There are many people who can do great deeds even though their livelihood doesn't depend on it, but clearly I am not one of those people. I got back into town last night, and today I spent my last day of vacation eating Crunch N' Munch and watching Agatha Christie mystery movies on tv. The fact that I managed to hoist my fat ass off the sofa to go to TinkleTown rather than urinate on the sofa was a small victory.
Anyway, there were any number of high points to my visit, but the day we spent at Belmont Park was among the most memorable. I've grown up with thoroughbred racing and have watched races at Belmont Park on television, so it was a real treat to go there in person. It's located on Long Island, and in order to get there from New Jersey we had to drive through The Bronx. On a Yankees vs Mets game day. Ugh. I've never been a fan of baseball (a fact that my once-professional-baseball-playing father finds more than a bit disturbing) but now I hate it more than ever. Sitting on the George Washington Bridge with nothing more to do than stare for 45 minutes at cars full of foam fingers and drunk face painters can do that to you.
Long story short, we made it through the city and onto Long Island to Belmont. Once there, I dutifully studied my Racing Digest, made my picks, and proceeded to lose each race. There are some bastards around there somewhere. It had to be a conspiracy, because it sure as shit couldn't be my legendary handicapping skills. (You may recall that these same legendary skills led me to select Cowtown Cat to win this year's Kentucky Derby. You may also recall that Cowtown Cat finished dead last.) Anyway, at one point I found myself with a $4 betting voucher that I didn't know what to do with. I noticed that a horse whose morning odds had been 5-1 had dropped like a rock to 14-1. He seemed to be as perfectly sound as he had been that morning, i.e. he still had all four feet and both eyeballs, so I figured what the hell. I plopped down my throwaway $4 voucher on some fool called Leadwithyourchin.
Here is a pictorial illustration of the last moments of that particular race:
There are four horses at the front. Leadwithyourchin is on the outside. I was cautiously optimistic at this point. I've been burned too many times before, and I'm no sucker. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
You can see here that my horse (#4), wearing the yellow saddlecloth, is starting to pull away. It was right around this time that I started screaming like a little girl and jumping around like I was on a pogo stick.
And this is when I wet myself.
Ah, good times.
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