sex and booze

Imagine, if you will, a terrible epidemic that spreads through out the population each spring-time. It comes on in the late morning and early afternoon and by late afternoon there are tens of thousands of otherwise healthy people staggering about the streets, decorating the place with the contents of their stomachs and falling off their shoes.

Sound familiar?

Yep, that’s right, it’s Spring Carnival time, which has roughly the same effect on my life as the apocryphal South American butterfly. Actually that’s not quite true: we don’t get a day off in Melbourne for Apocryphal South American Butterfly day. We should though, don’t you think?

At least work is quiet today, as those amongst the population with any forethought have already run for the hills, beaches, caves or anywhere were there are no horses.

Back in 2004, I was in the Provincial about 1am on the Saturday night before Cup day (Derby day?) and the joint was doing a mighty-good impression of a bar in San Fransisco when the fleet’s in. There was a “couple” there becoming rather amorous on the couch. She - mid 50s, him - late 20s; both with eyes glazed over: cigarettes and alcohol inserted in various orifices.

Anyway, I mention it as I still remember the guy looked up from his “pash“, lit a cigarette, belched, took a swig from his bourbon and coke, said “hello” and went back to the lip-action, all without taking his hand from her ample rear.

It was enough to put you off alcohol, or sex, certainly the two combined.

I wonder if they’re still together.

I don’t want you to go away thinking I’m totally against gambling and booze. God no. Horses are great animals, especially at a distance. Gambling is an excellent way to get rid of any superfluous cash you might have lying around, particularly when you’re drunk. It beats using $50 notes to light your cigar, especially with the plastic money we have now.

Also, romance has been known to blossom at the bookies. An old house-mate of mine got lucky one particularly sodden night at Moonee Valley. Not only did they remember each other’s names the next morning, but they ended up getting married. In a church. Wonders will never cease.

Running
If you detect a certain level of grumpiness in the post so far, you’re not wrong. I didn’t get to run over the weekend past, what with rain and the like, and I’m not overly happy. I do plan to run this lunch-time, so there’s a chance I’ll feel better about things in the afternoon.