On this day, the first day of a week of racing at Cheltenham of all places, today, I lost the most money I have ever lost on a day at the races. I wasn’t even at the races, I was at the bookies. Damn thieves. Damn Dan! Lousy tipster. There was a death on the course, too. Our Conor, who now art in heaven; who now art in the tank round the back after a discreet shotgun blast to the head to stop the whinnying silencing those by the fences. The horses love to run, so let them run I think. Racing them gives horses an elegance other cuts of meat just don’t have (Of course intervening with bloodstocking will lead to inevitable fateful problems that would not occur naturally, inherent muscular or bone problems, weakness in blood structure due to lack of genetic variety, in that the sport’s fate is regretful). I was meant to win the rent money today. No problem, there’s all week.
This is Cynic back with their third LP Kindly Bent to Free Us.
Drink The Wave 