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 could be down here with the lads? Told the eejit that I couldn’t make it, said it was something I ate.

Ah and it’s roaring here. The craic is deadly, the Guinness tent is jammers and the drink links are busier than a hoor on St Stephen’s Green on St Paddy’s Day.

But if it’s tips youse are wanting then youse have to realise that I can’t be taking money for them. And don’t bother pretending to be them Arabian shieks an taking me off to Dubai and plying me with hoors either, I’m not as thick as that ape Keiren.

Mind I do hear some of the lads are sweet on Shardam in the Bill Hill and me cousin Donal says it’s full steam ahead on Garde Champetre in the first. Donal says he and the lads will be on the bus home Tuesday night if the Champetre loses. Bus? Shank’s bleedin pony more likely. I tell youse, if our Donal’s missus finds out how much the gobshite stands to lose then he’d be better off doing the Riverdance afore she gets her hands on him.

One of the Cork lads asked me last night if I fancied Beef or Salmon. Jaysus, I said, I’m so hungry I could eat them both.

If it’s a tip you’re wanting then youse could do worse than Rhinestone Cowboy in the Coral. Sure it’s a fine beast and it’ll take the beating but jayus it would be home and hosed if it didn’t have that ape JP Magnier on it. He may be the big man’s boy but he’s about as much use as tits on a bull. Dense as bottled shite too. If I was riding the Rhinestone then they wouldn’t see it’s arse for dust as we roared up that hill.

See, one of the advantages of being a fat beggar like me is that I can pick up the odd ride down here and I’m still hoping to get on something in the Bumper. In fact there’s a couple of stable of stable lasses I’m hoping to get on as well but don’t be going telling Mrs F. Sure the flat’s all very well but you can’t beat a good jump for a change.

Anyways all this talk of food is putting a right mouth on me and I’m off to look for some scran. Hungry? I could eat a teacher’s arse through a blackboard.

See youse on the rails.

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