A small break from the formula, but its impromptu. My head is cloudy and not the goodkind either. Like cloudy that breaks motorcyclists legs and stops the Jaffrey fireworks (AT THE SAME TIME! I saw it.)
Z: some day in the past, a beautiful day at the tracks
attendence were my two subjects. Presidents Jefferson
and Lincoln, if you know anything about my politics, you
know who I fancy. Hell even if you saw my disposition-
you'd get it.
A: Lets get this over with
Z: Right, to whom was this race dedicated President Lincoln?
A: To Catherine the Great
T: The Magnificient
A: The illustrious
T: The adorable
Z: The unexpected.
T: Precisely
Z: You two bet against eachother, tell me about that Tom.
T: Well, I bet on the mule, for lady Catherine assured me she
favored them any day over the stallion.
A: Ignoring any sort of odious assumptions, I bet on the stallion.
Z: Mr. Jefferson, I can only assume you won, the mule did have favor.
T: No, I know not what occurred, but verily the steed beat him soundly.
The most peculiar thing however, was how vociferously she cheered when
the steed took the ribbon.
Z: In summary:
Indeed. Turn off the pressure cooker before you go to bed, or open your
door, they burn down houses quicker than you think. DOn't partake of insider
trading (just look what happened to Martha). And never, ever make high bets
on such a silly game. Stop it. That is of course, unless you are a stallion.
You lucky Fucking bastard.
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