Can’t say I didn’t horse around a little today.
My horse and I hitched a ride to the derby.
I entered the old boy in the race, along with Dolly Parton, his jockey.
She kept falling off. I think she was half in the bag.
So Harvey, my horse, and Dolly, his jockey were scratched.
There I was, at the Derby, with a horse and a blonde jockey, hanging out with me.
I mean, talk about being stuck with an albatross and an aging bimbo.
I tried to blend into the crowd, but I had low hanging fruit, that turned into a low rider.
Ok, so you had to be there.
When the race was over, I saddled up the drunk jockey and Harvey and galloped to the paddock.
Dolly jumped off Harvey and said: “We won!”
What an idiot.
Anyway, I don’t think I will enter Harv and Dolly in the Preakness or the Belmont, since neither one can lay off the sauce.
Oh, my hat won a prize.
It was gorgeous.
A lovely flowery replica of a thorough bred with a drunk blonde glued to his mane.
What can I say?
Some of us have it and some of us don’t.