Back at the fucking track again today. This time the thoroughbreds at Dope City Downs. Usually I keep away from the local thoroughbred track until about the beginning of June, preferring to give the horses six weeks to sort themselves out a bit.
When you are on a winning streak all such conservative considerations get thrown out the fucking window faster than empties on a road trip. The result? Only two for eight. Three winners usually providing a winning margin. Lucky for me I hit a dandy winner and a trifecta in the second and the 31-1 shot in the 6th. Tote board lit up like an overly dusty sawmill exploding at two in the morning. That horse's name? This Brews For You.
I shit you not.
Emptied my wallet into Sonja's purse yet again, keeping just enough for a good sized stab on the Kentucky Derby.
Winner, winner. Brews for dinner.
2 comments:
;)
Good on you Beer, good on u !
Thanks Laila. Deep inside, even deep inside the ever so sensible anti-gambling folks, there is a voice that needs to shout out, "BINGO," now and then.
Post a Comment