Fobzyfobzy's weekend at the races.
March 30th 2008 23:18
No, fellow Orblers, fobzy did not have a bet, I feel just so puritanical, but oh, dear, it made me so sad. There were all my friends having a wee flutter and poor old fobzy just had to look on.
But I know my form and when those fine creatures went to the starting line, my heart was going thud, thud, thud, and the voices in my head sang in sweet harmony to the dulcit tones of Mozart and my whole body was on fire.
This for many years until the elder caught up with me was the pinnacle of my existence and at that time I was having more than a flutter or two.
Betting is such a grand affair, and horse racing is the sport of kings and may I say queens and many a tidy little sum has been taken home, at the end of the day, carried faithfully by our Queen's lady in waiting.
And all so disceet, but discretion nowadays has been swept aside by our media moguls who do not know what the word means.
But, ah, for me, fobzy, it's such a grand occasion, the jockeys weighing in and out and the horses being tested, and the silks and hats the jockeys wear and those magnificent animals. They certainly know how to strut their stuff, but I really would like to see the use of the whip banned, those horses try so hard, even the lovely fillies, and what do they receive in return, a good whipping.
But the turf was green as green could be, the flowers were in bloom and the lovely ladies strolled about and then there were the loons and the tarts, the drunken rifraff, the hoi polloi, excuse the spelling, I told you I was not good at school and now I am much too lazy to look it up and there is another of those little z's which cause me so much trouble. But even if I were not lazy the sheer adrenalin rush from the races would forbid that I do anything so absolutely dull as to look up spelling.
So now you know why I am so anxious to get earning some dollars here on Orble, at least I'd have just a small bank to have a little flutter with, and my pride and self esteem would go through the roof or where there is no roof, straight up to the sky.
It's not always sunny weather at the races, but it was this weekend.
And even on a grey day, or a wet day, it still remains a colourful occasion, and I shall just have to stick with this blogging until I see some of those advertising dollars, hopefully, being a racing man, I'll be fast tracked. $100 before we get paid, indeed. Who in their right mind would ever accept such conditions.
Of course, I could get myself a real job, but that does not bear thinking about.
As for my own attire, I was, as always a picture of sartorial elegance and well were the admiring glances I received from some of the ladies, such a lovely day, it made my heart sing.
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