"Now that I have reduced training fees to uneconomic levels, put numerous incompetents (yes, including you Mouse and Sandra) out of business, failed in my attempts to field every runner in the Irish Grand National, been runaway "champion" owner for more years than I care to remember - without leaving my armchair I might add - failed to put Willie Mullins out of business, missed the under-12's schools' finals, elevated my equally cantankerous brother to mild celebrity status, put the credit systems of both Tattersalls Ireland and Goffs under a clear and present threat, created a bubble in the Irish point-to-point scene that will shortly burst, under-estimated the native cunning of that Russell bast**, helped Henry think he's back in the 1900's, forced the retirement of the English handicapper, demanded Tiger Roll carry 11 stone in his historic three-time handicap chase win, threw Bryan Cooper on the scrap heap, fooled Joseph O'Brien, Gordon Elliott and Noel Meade into thinking filling boxes was easy and, finally, been proven right about the crackpots and idiots that suggested that Samcro and Apples jade were Champion Hurdlers - my greatest win against the naysayers - I have decided to throw the Irish national Hunt scene under a bus. Hahahahaha. (As ever, the MAN gets the last laugh)"
just in from my new job as a kitchen porter in west London, nice gaff with posh customers, got home mums sugar blood level 5 .7 that's low, shes been up a log time after 40 winks, so choco milkshake to get her to sleep, working on my first novel, the life of an English man with an irish heart inspired by good old moxzzie xx
just in from my new job as a kitchen porter in west London, nice gaff with posh customers, got home mums sugar blood level 5 .7 that's low, shes been up a log time after 40 winks, so choco milkshake to get her to sleep, working on my first novel, the