Grand

My mum has been comatose for two days now after a mighty binge on Cinzano and olives. The reason for this Amy Winehouse-style marathon stint of self-abuse? Saturday was Grand National day.
Mum hadn’t placed a bet. She never does. Beyond the Village Hall Christmas Bingo and online spreads in the Far East, she’s a gamble-free senorita. But the annual sight of upper class tarts off their bonnets on champers tends to get mum in the mood for a party; so the drinks cabinet is empty, and the sink is full of vomit.

Why are so many jockeys Irish? The coverage with all the interviews on the telly was like listening to St Patricks Day live from The Point in Dublin.
Is it because they're a nation of small people? I mean all those leprechaun jibes must have a base in reality somewhere..
Also, why do so many of them have eyes that point outwards, away from each other? Is it the speed they go at on the horses - the wind resistance forces their eyes outwards in their sockets? Or maybe it’s the goggles they wear...
Either way, considering they torture animals for a living and make a good deal of money doing so, Wonky Eye Syndrome is the least they deserve. If it was down to me, I’d force their tiny little bodies into Tupperware boxes and throw them off a bridge into traffic.

I think mum is stirring at last. I’d better get a large glass of water, and an apron.

Anon..

RC 8-4-08
0815 GMT