And the parade of Train Smash Women continues at Aintree, on the inaptly-named Ladies Day:
…and just to prove my point, here’s my favorite Train Smash Woman of all, the wonderful Lisa Appleton:
Speaking of umbrellas, here’s one who matched her brolly not with her outfit, but with her tattoo:
Amazingly (and unusually for Aintree), not all the women were hideous:
…albeit sometimes quite alarming:
…but “pretty” ain’t the way to bet at the Grand National:
And there was so much more to come when the booze started to flow…
I know, I’m so weak. I just can’t help myself. Moth, meet candleaaaaaargh….
I love them all, these Train Smash Women.
So after the Class of Cheltenham comes the Ass of Aintree (a.k.a. the Great Train Smash Women Pageant):
Okay, okay… there were a couple of sorta-decent specimens there too, although one has to look hard to find them:
(girl needs a suntan, badly)
Best line of the day: “According to racecourse bosses, there’s no strict dress code for the festival as there is for Royal Ascot”, and accordingly the Train Smash Women are just overwhelming (in every sense of the word):
…and it’s only Day ONE !!!!
From bad to absolute worst:
- The band plays a disco version of Free Bird
- Your 8th-grade teacher-crush, Mrs. Sullivan, now needs a walker
- Diarrhea, on the dance floor
- Finally getting to score with the prom queen from your graduating class, only to discover that she now has dentures and you have erectile dysfunction
- Realizing that that obnoxious chick from Government class — Hillary… Rodham? — still has a crush on you
Your suggestions (or experiences) in Comments.
I’ve always enjoyed Taki Theodoracopulos’s pet online project, Taki’s Magazine. I especially love the old Greek bastard’s own wicked articles, with all the name-dropping and gossip flavoring. Almost without exception too, the writers have been a type after my own heart: intelligent, educated, fearless and completely irreverent, they’re willing to tackle even the most fearsome of sacred cows.
Much less so were the morons who commented on the articles. Almost without exception, they were a bunch of ignorant assholes for whom no dire situation or event was not at least partially caused by the Jooos (especially, as Taki puts it, “(((the Rothschilds)))”) who are seated at the heart of the Great Jewish / Bilderberg / Katahdin / Illuminati Conspiracy (or some bullshit like that).
So Taki finally got sick of all those commentators’ illiterate and malicious doggerel, and took out the Comments section. Now, if you want to make a comment, you have to send Taki’s Mag an email with your comment, and they’ll publish them later in the week IF they feel the comment is worthy. I suspect that only about 0.05% of the emails will ever see the light of day: good.
At last, I can wholeheartedly endorse Taki’s Magazine because it’s excellent. Even David Cole and Pat Buchanan don’t get up my nose that much anymore (mostly because I only read those of their posts which cover topics I’m interested in). Even if I don’t agree with the rest of the Taki’s Mag articles — or even just parts thereof — I read them anyway, because regardless of my opinion, they’re pretty compelling reading.
Hell, Joe Bob Briggs alone makes visiting the website a fine experience; but to be honest, you could say that about almost all the writers. And that’s something I cannot say about any other online (or even Dead Tree) publication.
“But Teddy darling… what if I’m pregnant?”
“Don’t worry, Mary Jo: we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
I see a movie has come out which tells the story of Swimmer Ted Kennedy’s disgraceful behavior in crashing his car into a river, then leaving the young female passenger to die.
I’m really glad this movie was made. Among his many other revolting activities (e.g. conspiring with the Soviets to undermine President Reagan), this is one story that should never be allowed to fade from the public memory, as Ted — surely the meanest and most despicable member of a mean and despicable family — should never be allowed to rest in peace, the fucking bastard.
Oh, and why do I call the Kennedys a mean and despicable family? Here’s their response to the release of “Chappaquiddick”:
“It’s bringing up all that same old Chappaquiddick scandal shit again.”
Lest we forget, the “same old Chappaquiddick scandal shit” involved an innocent woman trapped underwater in a car, drowning while Edward Fucking Kennedy was watching the bubbles float to the surface and pondering his political future.
I don’t know, nor do I want to know where this asshole is buried because I would be forever tempted to go and pour a bottle of Scotch over his grave — after first passing it through my kidneys, of course.