So the Melbourne Cup has been run and won for yet another year. The 150th year no less.
God I hate the Melbourne Cup.
'But aren't you from Melbourne?' I hear you all protest.
Yes, however, like the Collingwood Football Club, the Melbourne Cup represents most of what is rotten about this supposedly great city.
Firstly, it is a great self-proclaiming prophecy. 'The race that stops a nation!' 'The whole world's watching' 'The greatest weight-for-age race on the planet'. Who cares? It is just a freaken horse race. That it is (even if it isn't) the greatest such thing on earth elevates it to no greater status than 'just another horse race'. Just another reason for bogan Melburnians to believe that our city is betterz than Sidny FTW!!1!!! Melbourne is better than Sydney - on so many levels, but this bogan horse festival is not one of them.
A public holiday for a horse race? Give me strength. I am as lazy as the next guy. Hold that - most of my loyal (and very attractive - I may have the most attractive readership of any blogger going around) readers will attest that I am probably MORE lazy than the next guy. So I welcome public holidays. I, once elected as Prime Minister, have vowed to legislate in favour of Siestas. I think we should have public holidays to celebrate such things as great inventions (like the REVA three-holed plastic clothes peg, and the wine cask), however I simply cannot abide that we have a public holiday for a horse race.
Boganvillia. There are two reasons the Aussie Bogan owns a suit. For court appearances, and the Melbourne Cup. God pity the bogan soul that buys his suit as a novelty for the Melbourne Cup (as these perfect bogan examples did)
note discarded 'BOAGS' cans despite posing with sparkling wine. BOAGS beer... how very twee.
Where was I? Oh yes, God pity the Aussie Bogan who buys his one and only suit as a novelty for the Cup before his first committal hearing. Thankfully this is a rare occurrence, as the Aussie Bogan usually attends court a few years prior his first Melbourne Cup.
Druuuunk Slaaaarts. Sorry, it is rare for me to resort to the profane, however it is impossible to refer to the Melbourne Cup without referring to Druuuunk Slaaaarts. Take this young lass for example.
This fine specimen is about to be taken home by these charming young men. I'm not about to speculate what happens next, but if these guys were AFL footballers I'd be very worried about the subsequent publicity, once she wakes up and tries to defend the stains she... oops - too far.
The 'know-it-all punter' syndrome. Every year there is a crowd favourite. I can name most of them. Kingston Town, Dulcify, Makabe Diva, So You Think. There's always one horse that attracts a huge share of media coverage, mainly due to a Cox Plate win, that becomes outrageous crowd favourite. Despite 99% of the crowd knowing absolutely nothing about horse racing. So it was this year with So You Think. Or, as it should have been known, 'So You (Can't) Think (For Yourselves)'. As someone, who will remain nameless on this blog, proclaimed when the horse ran third, 'See, I told you it would win!'.
I've fast run out of time, as did my bet for the cup. I never bet on the horses. I've a great tip for the big race - don't bet. However my absent girlfriend insisted I pick a horse for her. 'Pick something that reminds you of me' she said (in a round about way). So I put a lazy $20 (and believe me, in my world there's no such thing as a LAZY $20) on Profound Beauty. I know, corny. I nearly made myself sick.
I think it's still running.
Until next time.