I can’t vote for The Donald based on his hairstyle alone. That swirling dervish that he has planted on his head reveals someone who is so delusional and so deeply in denial that I doubt he could govern himself in the bathroom. Yes, I know it’s whirling dervish, I’m trying my hand at a turn of phrase. And incorporating as many clichés as possible. But I forget myself — The Donald doesn’t have bodily functions, does he? Maybe that’s why shit is always coming out of his mouth. He’s been holding it in so long it had to come out somewhere.
green rider on a green horse
The love of my life, Onyx, my daughter’s 12 year old OTTB, had the honor of participating in a clinic with none other than Boyd Martin — yes, that Boyd Martin, the one who married Silva. Don’t ask how it happened, it just did. I had the dubious honor of doing the first day of the clinic. Mr. Martin has a unique ability to size up a horse and rider combination within seconds and determine exactly what they need to do to get better. To me, he said, “A green rider on a green horse.” Ooof! We all know how that works — an abomination at best. To my daughter, on the same horse, one day later, “Looks like you’ve done a bit of jumping.” One would think that by virtue of writing the checks (mostly good, some not so much) alone, I would garner some respect. Yeah, that’s not the way the horse world works. My burning question: Does Silva know you wear that hat? I think not.
does Sad Panda have a dating life?
As far as I can tell, Sad Panda in Old Town, Poland, is a young woman, slim (for a Panda), with great hair and elegant hands. She must be dating, right? How does that go for a sad panda?
Date: so, what do you do? (in Polish, of course)
SP: I’m a sad panda (again, in Polish)
SP: I wear a panda costume and sit in front of the Royal Castle in Old Town and hold my head in my hands. If it’s a slow day, I sob audibly.
Date: does that pay well?
SP: it depends on the day. I put out a can and people throw money in if they like me.
Date: so, you’re a beggar.
SP: no, I’m a performance artist.
Date: How many Panda suits do you own?
Date: doesn’t it get hot and sweaty?
Date: how do you clean it?
SP: how do you clean a Panda suit?
Date: You sit in a public place acting sad, wearing the same stinky outfit day after day, with a can for money in front of you. But you’re not a beggar.
Date: are you drunk when you do this?
SP: no, but I think I’m going to get drunk now.
Sad, sad panda front of Royal Castle, Warsaw, Poland