Train Smash Women Convention

Foreword: I’ve reposted this piece with fresh updates (see below), because Aintree is still a Train Smash in progress. I am LOVING this…

I have spoken before of my fatal attraction towards Train Smash Women (an explanation of which can be found here) but honestly, one can have too much of a Good Thing.

In April, you see, ’tis time for the Grand National race at Aintree outside Liverpool (the latter being, without question, Train Smash Capital of the world), which means it’s time for you, O my Gentle Readers, to nominate the most likely, and worst possible Train Smash Woman out of the ones who appear in this year’s report of Day 1 at Aintree. It’s quite simple: just go down the page, and select the picture which represents to you a Train Smash Extraordinaire (count down from the top, and from left to right if there is more than one pic across the column. Here’s pic #1, for instance, followed by pics #2 and #3:

In comments, therefore, all you have to say is “I nominate #12” or “The girl in the red dress in #3”, (for instance), and I’ll be the final vote-counter and judge. (I have to say, #32 certainly caught my attention, but there is a plethora of good choices.

Have fun.

Update #1: The fun continues… and I apologize to all my Readers if I’ve caused them to puke up their breakfast. As Mr. Free Market has said in the past, “There’s good reason never to head north of the M4.”

Update #2: It’s Ladies Day! I use the appellation in its loosest [sic] possible form, of course. One can only imagine what today (Saturday) will bring…

But even before seeing the Saturday story, my favorite for Train Smash Woman Of Aintree goes to this priceless creature:

There it is: the dreadful dye job, the horrendous eye make-up, the tits falling out, the too-short skirt revealing flabby thighs: it’s the whole enchilada… and we didn’t even get to see her shoes. I’ll bet 2-1 (seeing as we’re at a horse race) that her entire life consists only of regrettable decisions.


Still to come: Epsom and Ascot.

Note: I won’t be repeating this report for Melbourne’s Gold Cup celebrations because Australians.




  1. I gotta go with #21, same woman as #2 with the silly pink bow.

    Some of those women better be careful, someone might try to saddle them. There’s some POWERFUL ugly women in there, look like a horse trying to eat an apple thru a chain-link fence.

  2. Kim, would you be able to elaborate on the qualities we’re selecting here? Most likely to drunkenly fall over onto a penis, or the one I think you’d be most likely to pounce?

    I assume the tranny in yellow is not eligible.

    1. YearningAbs,
      At my age, I’ve learned to steer well clear of Train Smash Women. Go with your Option #1.

  3. #14 looks like she’s not the kind of woman you’d meet in a library or a church social…

    Unless, of course, you’re at a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting.

  4. I’ll bet my lunch money that the picture of the “reveller” (bloody British spelling) needing help up after her little tipple down the stairs was photo-shopped.

  5. Wife and I looked at all of the fine, funny ladies and we shared several observations, number one is that they are having a great, good time of it and enjoying themselves in a most splendorous manner. I like seeing women say “Screw you all, I am getting dressed up and heading out to have fun.” There are a lot of fat, floppy, full figured women strutting around like a bunch of drunk peacocks except when they stumble or sit down for a bit which makes for great photos.

    The second observation, with these hookers on the hoof one could have a lot of poundage for his money, every fold and wrinkle is a new adventure. And a lot of other degenerative things could be said and are best left unsaid because, once more, these great gals are out having fun.

    The third and last consideration might be something like this: When Walmart Britain dresses up and goes to the races. About half these Train Smashers have that overfed, over used People of Walmart look which is OK because Walmart needs people too.

    I don’t have a particular pick because I really appreciate them all and I am glad I don’t have to live with any of them.

  6. Okay, I’ve decided on #29 “Boobehs” as a contender for a game of Tarts and Vicars. Plus, she’ll claw your back up something fabulous.

    I’m concerned about #25. Those shoes may leave permanent grooves in her feet. I can feel them screaming for sweet release.

  7. Better you than me, Kim. None of them really appeal to me. I suppose wife#2, the crazy Ukrainka, might have fit the category. She did like to show a lot of cleavage.

    1. FR,
      NONE of them appeal to me on that level. I appreciate them like I would a Henry Moore sculpture: amazing, but I wouldn’t want one in my house.

  8. Trainwreck gals- the gal you know is going to be a whole lot of trouble and eventually a disaster, but there’s that little something that makes you go ahead anyway.
    I’m going with the gal in red from photo #3. Cute, but there’s that little something about her eyes that suggest a love for relationship drama and being the center of attention.

    1. Note, the reason I’m single is due to the fact that pretty much every single girlfriend I’ve ever had has been a train smash woman. And that I’m quite odd.

  9. I thought this was a horse race not a cattle auction. Also, most of these women look pissed to be wearing platform heels, but if they’re drunk……they do not seem to mind.

    Onto the train smashing.
    First off, I was able to make it through the first 154 pictures. I could not go any further without losing my lunch.

    Secondly, my vote is for the “lady” in the red jumpsuit from picture #14, #15, and #22.

    Honorable mentions go to #31 and #43.

    #66 appears to be 3 generations of TSW. Lord help us.

    And finally, #73 has a Sex and the City vibe that really churns my stomach.

  10. We go to Arlington each spring, on Derby day. We watch the local races, then watch the derby on the big screen. There are some flashy dressed drunk women, but nothing like that. Though I did catch a few doing somersaults on the lawn a few years back, and I imagine they were glad they remembered their underwear.

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