Anarchist Wheels

No matter what else happens this summer, this will be the summer I renewed my love for roller derby. This is the summer the Anarchist wheels of roller derby got me back where I belong: with the up and comers, the motherfucking contenders.

That was part of the appeal of horse racing when I began my trips to the track. Dope City horse racing was bottoming out. Outside of a couple thousand hard core fans, most of them the sort of gambling addict capable of scaring the shit out of a tripped out Charles Manson when they have not cashed a ticket all day, no one gave a damn about the old racetrack.

Horse racing appears to be turning the corner here in the Marijuana Lands. More of the women attending a day at the races are dressing like winners. That is the most reliable sign of upcoming success an entertainment could wish for. The place is starting to smell more like pussy and less like old men like me.

I have a $100 bet with Hunky Z on the outcome of the Championship Bout on Saturday night. Hunky likes the improving form of the baby blue Bad Reputations. I like the wisdom of backing an undefeated horse and the only such record belongs to the stinky, sweaty Riot Girls.

It does not much matter who wins really. No matter what, we are going to blow it out on Saturday night.

Gonna dance with my baby 'til the

Night is through

A Saturday Night, Saturday Night

Tell her all the things I'm

Gonna do

BCRFOREVERBCR