The cold winds of Flemington racecource swept The Rails where we had our vantage point for the race that stop a nation. Perhaps it's the race that stops a notion/emotion/annotation/etc, but in any case, it did stop my metabolism kicking in and the flight home and subsequent day the air of flu was about.
I still can't work out why horses, known as much for their glue-like properties as their racing prowess, manage to have the status of "the sport of kings". They may be majestic animals, but quite the regal animal they are not.
Equine does not, to me, evoke royalty. Perhaps the "traditional souvlaki" nexus with horses (and other similar edible beasts) was more suitable, especially in the public arena (where I feared to tread thrice during the day) of Flemington.I feel the need to go home. My throat's starting to annoy me and the flu could be close by. I hope the stunning melbourne weather doesn't impact upon endeavours to return to the desk on the morrow.
And finally a Mitch Hedberg quote for your entertainment:
I order the club sandwich all the time, but I'm not even a member, man. I don't know how I get away with it.
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