Horse racing just gives me the shudders. This admission no doubt offends a few people. I hope a couple of my old friends from school aren't reading this because one of them has a racehorse (which I understand performed quite well at the local cup event which coincides with Melbourne Cup yesterday), and another is an equine nurse and equally passionate about horse racing. Actually, another friend is big on the GGs, and has worked as a trainer locally. I attended a local meet with her a while back, and had a pleasant time but only because it was her company, not because of the thundering hooves and the smell of freshly laid (and old dried) horse apples. I had to borrow her trainer credentials to use the toilet in the more uppity club area, because the public ladies' bog had a big horrible green frog in it, and the presence of those repulsive jumping monsters is enough to keep me from ever attending an event held at that venue If you haven't guessed, I am highly amphibiphobic. On this particular day I wore comfortable shoes, but a very stylish hat. But I couldn't cope with having to stand around in heels for a day. I cannot stand in heels for a minute. I find the whole fashions on the field blah-blah-blahdy-blah a load of -ahem! - horseshit. I roll my eyes at some of the outfits people wear, and I might have to issue a memo to a certain Aussie chick who seems to be famous for not much that what she wore looked more like an onion bag than a fascinator.
Pictures of drunk girls passed out amidst their own vomit and various litter, just near the row of portaloos also make me cross.
One of the most cringe worthy moments yesterday, and forgive me because I'm not trying to sound like a cybertroll but am just speaking what I think (and my blog if my fiefdom anyway) was the on-camera proposal by Geoffrey Edelsten to whatever that woman is meant to be. It had all the spontaneity and romance of the planned invasion of another country. I am normally happy for couples who announce their engagement, but this one just had me shrieking, 'Oh, puh-LEEEZE!' She did not look delighted in the least (maybe she hates the ring?). Maybe she was worried that when Geoffrey got down on his knee, he wouldn't be able to get back up? It was so contrived, and shudder-worthy, and not even entertaining. The outfits were repulsive, but that's to be expected. Now, I don't mind something different. I liked it when Bjork turned up to the Oscars in that white swan, because that's, well, her. But when your eyes feel they are going to vomit after viewing, now that's something else. I honestly do like some of the people who show up in fancy dress, but dearie me, when you look like you've been hijacked by a bird of paradise, you've got some sartorial problems. Also, that glitter. Now, friends who do craft tell me glitter is considered the 'herpes' of craft materials - it just gets everywhere. I'll stop here, and say no more.
Now, not being a gambler, I got rather caught up in the local buzz and attended a TAB outlet and placed a couple of bets. They added to $7.00. I put money on poor Admire Ratki. If you're reading this, then you've been travailing the Internet and you know what happened, right? That poor, poor creature. I did watch the race at home, and you know what? I didn't enjoy watching those horses racing. I enjoyed even less the news that Admire Ratki had dropped in his stall and died afterward. I was even more saddened to hear Araldo had to be destroyed after that injury when he was spooked by a kid waving a flag. While I'm here, can I just plead with parents to either (a) leave their excitable kids at home from horse events, or (b) tell them not to do anything sudden near them? Although I'm not a horsey type myself, I grew up on a farm and my father is a very well known rodeo rider/stockman, and it has been ingrained and osmosis-ed into me all my life: no sudden movements near horses! It's that old saying: 'The gun is always loaded, and the horse always kicks'. Is this glamour? Is this the sport of kings? One of my friends commented that injuries can happen in any sport. This is indeed true. But most people who are injured on the sporting field have made their own decision to partake in the said sport. The horses have not. I am so saddened by the deaths of these creatures. I will be interested to hear the autopsy results for Admire Ratki, because it might not have necessarily been race-related, whatever happened to him. And of course they are not the only horses that die, and get injured. This horror juxtaposed against desperate Z-listers in gaudy hats and outfits as they cavort before a camera, trying to stay relevant, and drunken people chundering behind the portaloos, and ads for Tom Waterhouse's betting agency. Nah, next year I think, if I'm not working, I will just read a book. I will probably take note of the winner because I play trivia, but all other things are off the table.
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