Life Is a Gamble

I recently found myself flush with cash, which was lucky because I was looking all over the place for myself in that condition. We decided to meet up with our friends Paul and Krista to see if the local casino could help alleviate the problem. We could get some dinner, bet on the horses, have a cocktail or two and a nice night out.

I admitted to Paul that I had a gambling problem. The problem is that I don’t know how to do it without losing money. So he tried to explain to me how to handicap the horses based on their previous performances. I looked around for the horse with the biggest nose, in case he had to win by one. With this brilliant strategy in mind I was already spending my winnings in my head. But let’s not put the horse before the cart, a lesson you could learn the hard way. After the race it was apparent that my horse was already extremely handicapped, so I must have done an excellent job for a beginner.

I blame the guy in the cart for slowing down my horse. Why is he there in the first place, instead of in his own car? If I was a horse I would maintain with absolute certainty that I could run a hell of a lot faster if nobody was behind me whacking me with a whip, where I had to turn around every five seconds and yell, “HEY, CUT THE CRAP!” It reminds me of those rowing competitions where they have 10 beefy dudes in a canoe and a little weenie in the back who yells, “ROW!” It should be pretty much self-explanatory, if you’re sitting in a boat holding an oar. In the next race I wanted to bet a certain horse, but it was a scratch. The same thing happened three times in a row, and I figured there must be some poison ivy going around.

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