Santa's Little Helper (REDUX)

8.1.2015  (originally posted this meeting day, 2005)

I was thinking about 50 bucks and how I wish I had 50 bucks because I could get me a few things I figure I really need: Beer, ice, Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds and some Coppertone Sport Ultra Sweatproof Spray-on SPF 15 because I got a backyard, a lounge chair, a sunny day, an early Cubs road game from Philly and No Fucking Job to get in the way of drinking ice-cold beer and watching the game out in the back. 50 bucks would do it just fine.

I scored 50 bucks at the track one day. I had my racing form and handicapped the shit out of a Tri in the 4th ("Old Dad's Dingus" to Win, "Monkeyballs" to Place and a ugly horse named "Horseboy's KickAz Riding Crop" to Show, boxed). I was confident and went to place my bet. I stood in a long line and inched forward as Post Time approached. Most people around me were doing last minute handicapping: Circling, underlining, scratching things out, calculating and divining the winners. They were all occupied and I wasn't. I was looking around the joint, at them, at the tellers, at the clock and at the line I was in. I happened to look down at the floor and there was that Yankee looking back at me. U. S. Grant. He stared at me from the floor and I swear winked. I quickly checked to my left and my right and everyone was still frantically choosing their bets. So I bent over and snagged the $50. Sonofabitch! My Tri paid off and I hadn't even make the bet. I looked around me again while holding the fifty with both hands in front of me. This time there was an old dude in the line to my left looking right at me. I said, "Whatcha gonna do?" as I thought he saw me pick up the bill. I don't know if he saw me pick it up or not but he saw me standing there holding a fifty dollar bill like a moron and he said the best and only thing that he could. He said, "Race."

Now then, in case you are wondering, it was a horse track. I don't go to dog tracks because those motherfuckers treat dogs like shit. Torture and murder and shit and I don't cotton to treatment of dogs like that. So I boycott dog tracks. BUT! if dogs are running at a horse track, I'm game. And so when the Police K9 competition and exhibition was held at Golden Gate Fields a few weeks back my grrrrl and I were there. It was awesome. We sat in the grandstands, drank beer and watched the police dogs do obstacle courses, swim and best of all, put the BIG BITE down on these geeks in fatty suits. There was a wide range of experience-levels in the dogs and the younger, inexperienced dogs would jog up to the geeks and bite 'em okay but the older, experienced dogs would HAUL ASS up to and HIT the geeks at FULL SPEED and HANG ON. It was totally awesome. These doggys were cops and they knew it. After the exhibition they were lined up at the Happy Donut truck. I swear to god.


Tonight - Bender's  (cash only)



Oh yeah ... in case you are wondering ... my Trifecta results from that day: Triple-Dead-Heat. They tied for last.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!