tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63680812007-03-24T10:30:27.861-07:00masterplumberBlogger111tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1142506157279733722006-03-16T02:48:00.000-08:002006-03-17T04:15:00.856-08:00

Howya It’s day three and I’m sitting here with a smile the size of Cork on me bake. Jaysus but it’s been deadly so far. Tuesday was brand new and I was laughing me cacks off at the faces of the English eejits who thought they were all in on this steamer for Sweet Wake to romp the first. You’d have thought their Queen had found crap in her cornflakes. Serves them bleedin right. They were jumping

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1142338776724406172006-03-14T04:18:00.000-08:002006-03-17T04:08:29.233-08:00

Howya Jayus I love the smell of a scam in the morning. First Tuesday of Cheltenham and there’s already a whisper for a hit on the sods with the satchels. A whisper? It’s a bleeding roar. You’ll know that every Paddy is supposed to be on Sweet Wake in the opener, convinced that he’ll rattle up like a good thing. Ah sure and Mr Meade is supposed to be setting us up for a week of black stuff and

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1094050297295994702004-09-01T07:45:00.000-07:002004-09-01T07:51:37.296-07:00

Howya Me typing might not be all that great today on account of how I’m writing this from under me bed. I figure it’s the only place to be in case there’s a Paddy Wagon at me front door and a bunch of plods offering me a lift to the cop shop to help with their enquiries. Jaysus I couldn’t believe it. The dog and bone went off before the bleedin cockrel and I thought it was someone phoning to

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1087398048996938422004-06-16T07:56:00.000-07:002004-06-17T05:35:31.436-07:00

Howya Here I am at Ascot and I have to tell youse it’s bleeding deadly. Sure and I know it says Royal Ascot in the papers but she’s no queen of mine sure she’s not. She’s a nice enough old cow but as far as I’m concerned she sits down to do her business like the rest of us so I’ll be leaving the curtseys to the English. Bleedin eejits. I got down here yesterday and Jaysus you should see the

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1079615781652370302004-03-18T05:15:00.000-08:002004-03-18T05:19:40.996-08:00

Howya Jaysus was I not after telling you that eejit JP Magnier was as much use as a condom on a fish? He had a double handful coming to the last on Rhinestone Cowboy but didn’t make a move until the winner was home and hosed. If the ape had made his move any later it would have been dark. I told Jonjo the boy could ride none and right I was too. If there’s an arseways of riding a nag then that

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1079522348514018592004-03-17T03:18:00.000-08:002004-03-17T03:22:26.326-08:00

Happy St Paddy’s to youse all but jayus lads, how bad was that yesterday? The drink link has taken a bigger battering than Lisa Jones gives her gee gees. If Mrs O’Farrell knew how much cash I lost to those thieves on the rails then she’d have me large lad in her handbag and be taking it down the pawn shop. Sure and it was a grand start too. Brave Inca nosed it and we thought it was going to be

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1079438303003480292004-03-16T03:57:00.000-08:002004-03-16T04:01:38.873-08:00

Howya Jaysus it’s bleedin deadly here at Cheltenham, so it is. There’s always something special in the air down here — probably the farts of ten thousand paddies after a night on the black stuff but who’s caring. Sure and I had the chance to be riding for Jamie Osbourne at Southwell today but what’s the point of having me bleedin arms pulled out trying to stop some beggar from winning when I

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1078855267148057692004-03-09T10:00:00.000-08:002004-03-09T10:04:14.576-08:00

Howya Jaysus it’s a terrible time to be a jockey and it’s all the fault of that feckin eejit Fallon. I’ve been telling him for years that he’d get caught eventually but did he listen? Did he feck as like. That’s the trouble wi these top jocks, they look up at a fat git like me and think I know nowt about riding. Me arse and Katty Barry. How do they think I keep getting rides when I’ve an arse

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1078618786301311022004-03-06T16:19:00.000-08:002004-03-09T09:07:30.140-08:00

Howya Oh jaysus. Poor Keiren. He’s really gone and done it this time. The Fallon fella was only doing his job and making sure his nag didn’t win when it wasn’t supposed to so that the one of Jamie Osbourne’s got over the line first. Where was the harm in that? But the eejit had to go and get that horse of his so far out in front that his arse would have looked like a mouse’s diddy to the rest

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1078222854780298492004-03-02T02:20:00.000-08:002004-03-06T16:26:04.873-08:00

Howya Being followers of the sport of kings as you are, you’ll have seen me name on your racecard and in your papers and here I am to write for youse every now and again. Me oul sweat Paul Pot gave me the gig and said I should tell youse all about the grand game and the twisters that run it. Well here it is. These days I don’t really have what you would call a regular stable. One day I’m

Wee Jacktag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6368081.post-1078246528059522492004-03-02T08:54:00.000-08:002004-03-02T09:00:33.903-08:00

Howya Was youse watching the Oscars the other night? Blinding it was apart from that diddy bitch-bag Billy Crystal. You ever seen anyone more in need of a good kick in the bollocks? Me neither. Anyways it minded me of that film Sea Biscuit about that ould horse that won all them races in America. Sound it was. Mind youse, that little horse was so bleedin diddy that I’d have crushed the beggar.

Wee Jack