Ladies and Gentlemen,
It has come, my moment of triumph. The day when old Blue will rise from the Flemington turf like some sort of equine phoenix to take Australia's greatest race and give that So You Think a mighty kicking!
I'm confident, young Willy is confident (although to use a local term he admitted he is "shitting himself"), Bossy is confident, I can almost taste the sweet delights of victory...ladies start queuing up now...
So here is what I propose loyal followers, if all of you tell 10 friends to put a lazy fiver on me to win the Cup, we can create a Melbourne Cup plunge and challenge that ponce So You Think for favouritism. Let's make some news on Cup day and let Australia know that I am coming for the cup!
I'll see you all trackside, be sure to wave at me in the parade ring - but look out for that Campanologist, if he was a human he'd surely challenge Willem Defoe for the title of "the human tripod".
Good Luck to all on this most Holiest of days
Warm Regards
Blue
Monday, November 1, 2010
Cup Eve and not a Creature is Stirring
Well here we are, Cup eve. I must admit these Aussie's are a funny bunch - who'd have thought we'd have such a build up to a horse race? Wouldn;t get it at home that's for sure, the Gold Cup barely rates a mention, bit of interest in the Grand National but more for the photos of pissed scousers doing stupid things...
Plenty of that here too if Derby day was any indication. What the bloody hell were those pissed louts doing sliding down a soaked tarpaulin in their suits? Clearly from the south east suburbs I'd imagine, gets a bit willing out that way I hear with all the teenage pregnancies and shootings and what not. Lucky I'm safe in Werribee!
I had to look away though when I saw a dreadfully pissed young man drinking beer out of a muddy shoe, I've seen a few odd things in my days travelling to Turkey and Sweden and what not - some kinky folk there I can assure you - but booze from a boot? My God!
Between you and I, old Bauer is a bit nervy at the moment. Sore leg you see, poor old chap. Hell of a long way to come for a horse race if you're not going to run! Tried to blame me of course, apparently he slipped on the way back to the stables after a big night on the scotch with yours truly and claimed that I was negligent in letting him walk home! Disgraceful! His own silly fault he can't hold his drink I say.
Tez Bailey and the Vets (sounds like an 80's pop band doesn't it?) will be around in the morning to check him out. We'll see what they say.
Bit of a rumour going around that Campanologist might be a bit, ahem, how do I put it, queer. I'd heard some gossip back home that his fifth leg only appears in the company of geldings and after seeing him turn down that Scottish filly Eastern Aria behind the sheds the other night I'd have to say that there is some truth to the rumour! It all adds up really, those trips to Germany, no doubt freuqenting those clubs you here of...
Anyway I best be off, big day tomorrow and all that. Someone told me that a couple of the bookies have me at $3.50 to finish in the first 10! Easy money I say, I've sent young Willy out to have something on for yours truly...
See you at the track
Blue
Plenty of that here too if Derby day was any indication. What the bloody hell were those pissed louts doing sliding down a soaked tarpaulin in their suits? Clearly from the south east suburbs I'd imagine, gets a bit willing out that way I hear with all the teenage pregnancies and shootings and what not. Lucky I'm safe in Werribee!
I had to look away though when I saw a dreadfully pissed young man drinking beer out of a muddy shoe, I've seen a few odd things in my days travelling to Turkey and Sweden and what not - some kinky folk there I can assure you - but booze from a boot? My God!
Between you and I, old Bauer is a bit nervy at the moment. Sore leg you see, poor old chap. Hell of a long way to come for a horse race if you're not going to run! Tried to blame me of course, apparently he slipped on the way back to the stables after a big night on the scotch with yours truly and claimed that I was negligent in letting him walk home! Disgraceful! His own silly fault he can't hold his drink I say.
Tez Bailey and the Vets (sounds like an 80's pop band doesn't it?) will be around in the morning to check him out. We'll see what they say.
Bit of a rumour going around that Campanologist might be a bit, ahem, how do I put it, queer. I'd heard some gossip back home that his fifth leg only appears in the company of geldings and after seeing him turn down that Scottish filly Eastern Aria behind the sheds the other night I'd have to say that there is some truth to the rumour! It all adds up really, those trips to Germany, no doubt freuqenting those clubs you here of...
Anyway I best be off, big day tomorrow and all that. Someone told me that a couple of the bookies have me at $3.50 to finish in the first 10! Easy money I say, I've sent young Willy out to have something on for yours truly...
See you at the track
Blue
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Aussie Heat and Cold Thermometers
4 Sleeps to go.
Kangaroo sightings = 0
Racing Journalists = 1 (see The Australian tomorrow)
Love letters from Beccy = 0
Well this is the weather they all talk about down under!
I've cracked out the coconut oil, lathered myself up nicely, and I'm soaking up the rays on the lawn in a deckchair with Bauer and a couple of local ales. Coopers puts Foster's to shame and is a right proper beer for a right proper English gent.
I needed a bit of relaxation after the morning we've had out here. Nightmarish stuff. It seems that Racing Victoria's chief detective Terry Bailey (Tez to his friends) got wind that all was not right down here at the 'Bee and so he and his crack team of vet's and stewards descended on us at 8am for random health checks!
I pleaded with them to let me sleep in as I was going out on the track for a good gallop later in the morning but Tez insisted and sent a very burly nurse named Helga in to check my temperature.
Now I've had a of experience with German women in the past (met a nice German filly in Turkey one afternoon) and I know how loving they can be, but I'm afraid to say Helga was anything but loving. She took to my rear end with her thermometer (ice cold by the way) like she was plunging a blocked drain. Ghastly business, haven't been able to sit comfortably since.
And all healthy by the way, just as I told Tez. I didn't come all the way to Australia to get sick and I could have done without the anal violation but these are the sacrifices one must make if one is to take the Melbourne Cup.
Can't say the same for old Bauer though. It's fair to say that if he'd have been wearing pants he would have been filling them when Tez knocked on his barn door. Stone bruise and a bit of a sore leg you see, trying to lay low until it recovers. Tez gave him the benefit of the doubt but will be back this afternoon - let's hope he doesn't breath test us though as we'd have had a few frothies by then
Not sure what Helga made of Campanologist or his, ahem extra leg, but she was in his stable for some time and left with a smile. Can't imagine why.
Warmest Regards
Blue
Kangaroo sightings = 0
Racing Journalists = 1 (see The Australian tomorrow)
Love letters from Beccy = 0
Well this is the weather they all talk about down under!
I've cracked out the coconut oil, lathered myself up nicely, and I'm soaking up the rays on the lawn in a deckchair with Bauer and a couple of local ales. Coopers puts Foster's to shame and is a right proper beer for a right proper English gent.
I needed a bit of relaxation after the morning we've had out here. Nightmarish stuff. It seems that Racing Victoria's chief detective Terry Bailey (Tez to his friends) got wind that all was not right down here at the 'Bee and so he and his crack team of vet's and stewards descended on us at 8am for random health checks!
I pleaded with them to let me sleep in as I was going out on the track for a good gallop later in the morning but Tez insisted and sent a very burly nurse named Helga in to check my temperature.
Now I've had a of experience with German women in the past (met a nice German filly in Turkey one afternoon) and I know how loving they can be, but I'm afraid to say Helga was anything but loving. She took to my rear end with her thermometer (ice cold by the way) like she was plunging a blocked drain. Ghastly business, haven't been able to sit comfortably since.
And all healthy by the way, just as I told Tez. I didn't come all the way to Australia to get sick and I could have done without the anal violation but these are the sacrifices one must make if one is to take the Melbourne Cup.
Can't say the same for old Bauer though. It's fair to say that if he'd have been wearing pants he would have been filling them when Tez knocked on his barn door. Stone bruise and a bit of a sore leg you see, trying to lay low until it recovers. Tez gave him the benefit of the doubt but will be back this afternoon - let's hope he doesn't breath test us though as we'd have had a few frothies by then
Not sure what Helga made of Campanologist or his, ahem extra leg, but she was in his stable for some time and left with a smile. Can't imagine why.
Warmest Regards
Blue
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Countdown Begins
7 days to go until ol' Blue stamps his class on the Australian racing scene...this is the calm before the storm.
With all the journo's buzzing around that Italian fellow and the Arab horses, I've had plenty of time to think over the last few days, and I've compiled a list of statistics from observations I've made since arriving Down Under...
- No. of exclusive media interviews with yours truly = 0
- No. of any sort of interviews at all with yours truly = 0
- No. of teenage nannies spotted in central Werribee = 43 (and counting)
- No. of cigars smoked with Bauer = 12
- No. of references to So You Think in the daily press = 4,123
- No. of Kangaroos sighted = 0
I can conclude two stark truths from my analysis of these statistics. One, that along with the fabled Bunyip (yes I've done some homework) the kangaroo and the racing journalist are obviously mythical Australian creatures as I've not seen any of either. And two, I'm going to have to take this strutting pretty-boy So You Think to school next Tuesday and show him how we do it in the Northern Hemisphere.
Now I read with interest a report that I slipped over at trackwork on Monday - laughable to say the least. I can assure my legions of followers that Elvis (my riding boy) and I were merely practising our emergency bullet aversion procedure. You see I've done my homework about these Australian's and they seem to have a bit of a problem with"tall poppies" as they call them, high achievers.
A little while ago a horse called Phar Lap - you might have heard of him - enjoyed a bit of success out here and some frightfully nasty fellows (probably relations of those Underbelly lads) attempted to assasinate him at the track!
Unheard of in Enlgand, all very gentlemanly and above board at home, but eveidently there a few hicks that take matters into their own hands down here. Probably Tasmanian's from what I hear, some questionable bloodlines down there apparently.
So Elvis and I have come up with a little move we call "The Blue Roll" and on his signal I hit the deck, lie on my side and watch the sniper's bullet fly safely over my head. I remain on the turf long enough for the constabulary to arrest the offender before I return to my feet and carry on with victory. A simple self-preservation technique and nothing more.
Sadly I still await a response from Becqu Adoree, my one true love. It seems that the Italian caught wind of my advances and has put her in isolation, cancelled her internet access, and has placed a guard dog at her barn door. Outrageous behaviour I say and smacks of an over protective father in my opinion, I wonder how he deals with that of his daughter and all the male attention she gets Down Under...you'd think these Aussie lads had never seen a pretty girl riding a horse before...
Warmest regards
Blue
With all the journo's buzzing around that Italian fellow and the Arab horses, I've had plenty of time to think over the last few days, and I've compiled a list of statistics from observations I've made since arriving Down Under...
- No. of exclusive media interviews with yours truly = 0
- No. of any sort of interviews at all with yours truly = 0
- No. of teenage nannies spotted in central Werribee = 43 (and counting)
- No. of cigars smoked with Bauer = 12
- No. of references to So You Think in the daily press = 4,123
- No. of Kangaroos sighted = 0
I can conclude two stark truths from my analysis of these statistics. One, that along with the fabled Bunyip (yes I've done some homework) the kangaroo and the racing journalist are obviously mythical Australian creatures as I've not seen any of either. And two, I'm going to have to take this strutting pretty-boy So You Think to school next Tuesday and show him how we do it in the Northern Hemisphere.
Now I read with interest a report that I slipped over at trackwork on Monday - laughable to say the least. I can assure my legions of followers that Elvis (my riding boy) and I were merely practising our emergency bullet aversion procedure. You see I've done my homework about these Australian's and they seem to have a bit of a problem with"tall poppies" as they call them, high achievers.
A little while ago a horse called Phar Lap - you might have heard of him - enjoyed a bit of success out here and some frightfully nasty fellows (probably relations of those Underbelly lads) attempted to assasinate him at the track!
Unheard of in Enlgand, all very gentlemanly and above board at home, but eveidently there a few hicks that take matters into their own hands down here. Probably Tasmanian's from what I hear, some questionable bloodlines down there apparently.
So Elvis and I have come up with a little move we call "The Blue Roll" and on his signal I hit the deck, lie on my side and watch the sniper's bullet fly safely over my head. I remain on the turf long enough for the constabulary to arrest the offender before I return to my feet and carry on with victory. A simple self-preservation technique and nothing more.
Sadly I still await a response from Becqu Adoree, my one true love. It seems that the Italian caught wind of my advances and has put her in isolation, cancelled her internet access, and has placed a guard dog at her barn door. Outrageous behaviour I say and smacks of an over protective father in my opinion, I wonder how he deals with that of his daughter and all the male attention she gets Down Under...you'd think these Aussie lads had never seen a pretty girl riding a horse before...
Warmest regards
Blue
Friday, October 22, 2010
COX PLATE DAY
Well I've only just recovered from that awful Underbelly film, my God they didn't mess about those boys did they? I tend to steer clear of those kinds of shady characters, although if a hitman did come my way I can assure you that old Blue knows how to handle himself - trained in Karate you know, blackbelt and all that.
Bauer and I were just reading the papers - AGAIN NO MENTION OF YOURS TRULY - bit of a one-sided show isn't it? That old chap Bart doesn't seem to say much but that horse of his seems to go alright evidently. Bit of a brute actually, I'd say if those Underbelly fellows owned a horse he'd fit the bill. I certainly wouldn't want to run into him in the alley next to the Gin Club in Sussex after a couple of glasses!
So old Bauer and I can only summise that this Cox Plate is named after the Moonee Ponds track - which coincidently is where that lovely Australian Dame Edna hails from is it not? I say a bit of a tight track that one, I thought they ran greyhounds round it when I first saw the map, not exactly one for a long striding gentleman like myself.
Bauer seems to think that this So You Think is near on unbeatable and I hope he's right - I simply couldn't stand another ear-bashing from that Gai woman, as nice as she is she does give the old eardrums a good going over - a bit like Shadow Cabinet actually, we've had to put him in a separate stabel, awfully uncouth for an Englishman.
The only person that seems to enjoy Gai's antics is that big Richie fellow on TVN, must be hard of hearing though as he seems to get quite up close and personal in post-race interviews.
And yes I know what you're all wanting to know, have I heard back from that little French croissant of love Becqu Adoree, the Penelope Pussycat to my Pepe le Pew. Well the short answer is no, and the long anser is God no, oh why God why? Why God must you test me like this? I'm a good christian I go to church, all I ask for is a 15 minute rendezvous with the woman of my affections, is that too much to ask God? Is it?
Ah hem, anyway, Bauer and I are about to crack open a nice bottle of burgundy from the French Riviera and spark up a couple of nice Cuban cigars (another care package from young Willy) before we settle in and watch TVN. Shocking coverage on Channel 9 you see, I have no idea what Australia's Next Best Home Renovator Masterchef is but I'm bloody well sick of seeing what they're wearing every bloody week.
Warmest Regards
Blue
Bauer and I were just reading the papers - AGAIN NO MENTION OF YOURS TRULY - bit of a one-sided show isn't it? That old chap Bart doesn't seem to say much but that horse of his seems to go alright evidently. Bit of a brute actually, I'd say if those Underbelly fellows owned a horse he'd fit the bill. I certainly wouldn't want to run into him in the alley next to the Gin Club in Sussex after a couple of glasses!
So old Bauer and I can only summise that this Cox Plate is named after the Moonee Ponds track - which coincidently is where that lovely Australian Dame Edna hails from is it not? I say a bit of a tight track that one, I thought they ran greyhounds round it when I first saw the map, not exactly one for a long striding gentleman like myself.
Bauer seems to think that this So You Think is near on unbeatable and I hope he's right - I simply couldn't stand another ear-bashing from that Gai woman, as nice as she is she does give the old eardrums a good going over - a bit like Shadow Cabinet actually, we've had to put him in a separate stabel, awfully uncouth for an Englishman.
The only person that seems to enjoy Gai's antics is that big Richie fellow on TVN, must be hard of hearing though as he seems to get quite up close and personal in post-race interviews.
And yes I know what you're all wanting to know, have I heard back from that little French croissant of love Becqu Adoree, the Penelope Pussycat to my Pepe le Pew. Well the short answer is no, and the long anser is God no, oh why God why? Why God must you test me like this? I'm a good christian I go to church, all I ask for is a 15 minute rendezvous with the woman of my affections, is that too much to ask God? Is it?
Ah hem, anyway, Bauer and I are about to crack open a nice bottle of burgundy from the French Riviera and spark up a couple of nice Cuban cigars (another care package from young Willy) before we settle in and watch TVN. Shocking coverage on Channel 9 you see, I have no idea what Australia's Next Best Home Renovator Masterchef is but I'm bloody well sick of seeing what they're wearing every bloody week.
Warmest Regards
Blue
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Love Between Two Quarantine Posts
You would assume that a gentleman of my age and breeding would have had his share of romantic interludes with well-bred young ladies over the years, and I admit that in the past I have been something of a lad about town - and to all the hearts of past loves that I have broken, I sincerely apologise.
You only need look to that rather frisky fellow Campanologist to understand what I was once like. He struts around like he owns the place, testosterone pumping, bucking, squeeling, basically showing off. Yes we all know you've one two Group 1's (in Germany mind you - don't mention the war) but please, if I see that fifth leg once more as I gaze out over the walk yard while eating my breakfast I'm going to "spew up" as the locals say - if he does happen to win the Cup I'm sure the locals will protest on the grounds of an unfair advantage!
But I digress.
Yes I used to be a bit of a swinger, but now I confess that I am a one woman man. My heart belongs to Becqu Adoree, the beautiful French filly staying just across the way.
I just can't get her out of my head. Those gorgeous eyes, that svelte figure, that nice round rump, how is one supposed to prepare for the Melbourne Cup with such a distraction?
But alas my love remains unrequited. Our hearts are separated by cyclone fencing and quarantine restrictions and also language - old Bauer tells me she is learning English though, so I better bone up on some French (pardon the pun). I fear that young Beccy may never know my true feelings so I'm turning to the web and my legions of followers to get the message to her.
If you see her, tell her that I think she's a damn fine filly and that I'd love to take her out for a nice meal and a bottle of burgundy after all this rotten quarantine business is over.
An Ode to Adoree
Oh Becqu Adoree how my heart adore's thee,
You've made a one woman man out of me
With your long lucious legs and you mane so fine,
If only I could make you mine
I'd love you always and every day,
I just wish that AQIS didn't stand in my way
One day I'll be free of these daft regulations,
And I promise to entertain you in various positions
So please release me from the strains of unrequited love
And tell me you want me, my sweet French turtle dove!
Hopelessly devoted,
Blue
You only need look to that rather frisky fellow Campanologist to understand what I was once like. He struts around like he owns the place, testosterone pumping, bucking, squeeling, basically showing off. Yes we all know you've one two Group 1's (in Germany mind you - don't mention the war) but please, if I see that fifth leg once more as I gaze out over the walk yard while eating my breakfast I'm going to "spew up" as the locals say - if he does happen to win the Cup I'm sure the locals will protest on the grounds of an unfair advantage!
But I digress.
Yes I used to be a bit of a swinger, but now I confess that I am a one woman man. My heart belongs to Becqu Adoree, the beautiful French filly staying just across the way.
I just can't get her out of my head. Those gorgeous eyes, that svelte figure, that nice round rump, how is one supposed to prepare for the Melbourne Cup with such a distraction?
But alas my love remains unrequited. Our hearts are separated by cyclone fencing and quarantine restrictions and also language - old Bauer tells me she is learning English though, so I better bone up on some French (pardon the pun). I fear that young Beccy may never know my true feelings so I'm turning to the web and my legions of followers to get the message to her.
If you see her, tell her that I think she's a damn fine filly and that I'd love to take her out for a nice meal and a bottle of burgundy after all this rotten quarantine business is over.
An Ode to Adoree
Oh Becqu Adoree how my heart adore's thee,
You've made a one woman man out of me
With your long lucious legs and you mane so fine,
If only I could make you mine
I'd love you always and every day,
I just wish that AQIS didn't stand in my way
One day I'll be free of these daft regulations,
And I promise to entertain you in various positions
So please release me from the strains of unrequited love
And tell me you want me, my sweet French turtle dove!
Hopelessly devoted,
Blue
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Caulfield Cup Wash Out
So that was the Caulfield Cup....pffft much ado about nothing as far as I'm concerned!
Old Bauer and I settled into the beanbags to watch the day's racing on TVN. We created a bit of a gentlemen's club and invited those boys in blue from Godolphin over for a drink and a smoke but they declined - clean living lads apparently, no drink, no smoke, no women - my God how do they live??!!
Anyway so old Bauer and I settled in without those Arabian chaps and broke out some very nice Cubans that Willy mailed over in a care package for me. My God I was glad that we were warm and comfortable in very civilised surrounds because it looked as though Medici, Tokai, and the other lads were having a devil of a time what with the wind and rain and all at Caulfield.
The locals were complaining about the weather as if the seven horsemen of the Apocalypse were arround the corner - what absolute sissies! Now I'm the last horse to want to go ploughing through mud and slush but these Aussies were whinginga and whining and carrying on like they'd never seen rain - they ought to come over for a Cheltenham festival and see how tough the log jumpers do it in our neck of the woods!
And what about that Gai Waterhouse? Lovely lady and obviously a woman of real class and proper upbringing but my God can she talk! Poor old Bauer reckons he was stuck with her at trackwork one morning when he was last in town and she talked, and talked, and talked, after half an hour without a breath he became sort of hypnotised by her voice - how on earth I will never know, a bit high pitched for hypnotism I'd of thought.
I say she knows a thing or two about racing and that Spanish fellow Descarado obviously enjoys her company, but how they ever put up with her yabbering is beyond me - my ears are still ringing!
So after watching the race with a few brandys under our belt Bauer and I were getting rather merry and we decided that we both very much like our chances in the Melbourne Cup. If the Caulfield Cup is the best lead in to the race I don't think that we have much to worry about - that fat roly-poly chap named Shocking (reminds me a little of the fat controller actually) ran a decent enough race but how is he going to cope when old Blue puts him to the sword at the furlong pole? Poor fellow, he could hardly get past that dirty frog Manighar and I've towelled up that snivelling Frenchman on any number of occasions! Ah yes, I'm getting more confident as the big day draws nearer...
Well before I sign off for the night and jump into bed I must explain my Tweet from late last week. I've had any number of emails about that particular tweet and yes I'll confirm it now, Illustrious Blue is in love!
I've been swept off my feet, entranced, and generally gobsmacked by a gorgeous little filly staying just across the way...I'll reveal more later this week...
Until next time
Blue
Old Bauer and I settled into the beanbags to watch the day's racing on TVN. We created a bit of a gentlemen's club and invited those boys in blue from Godolphin over for a drink and a smoke but they declined - clean living lads apparently, no drink, no smoke, no women - my God how do they live??!!
Anyway so old Bauer and I settled in without those Arabian chaps and broke out some very nice Cubans that Willy mailed over in a care package for me. My God I was glad that we were warm and comfortable in very civilised surrounds because it looked as though Medici, Tokai, and the other lads were having a devil of a time what with the wind and rain and all at Caulfield.
The locals were complaining about the weather as if the seven horsemen of the Apocalypse were arround the corner - what absolute sissies! Now I'm the last horse to want to go ploughing through mud and slush but these Aussies were whinginga and whining and carrying on like they'd never seen rain - they ought to come over for a Cheltenham festival and see how tough the log jumpers do it in our neck of the woods!
And what about that Gai Waterhouse? Lovely lady and obviously a woman of real class and proper upbringing but my God can she talk! Poor old Bauer reckons he was stuck with her at trackwork one morning when he was last in town and she talked, and talked, and talked, after half an hour without a breath he became sort of hypnotised by her voice - how on earth I will never know, a bit high pitched for hypnotism I'd of thought.
I say she knows a thing or two about racing and that Spanish fellow Descarado obviously enjoys her company, but how they ever put up with her yabbering is beyond me - my ears are still ringing!
So after watching the race with a few brandys under our belt Bauer and I were getting rather merry and we decided that we both very much like our chances in the Melbourne Cup. If the Caulfield Cup is the best lead in to the race I don't think that we have much to worry about - that fat roly-poly chap named Shocking (reminds me a little of the fat controller actually) ran a decent enough race but how is he going to cope when old Blue puts him to the sword at the furlong pole? Poor fellow, he could hardly get past that dirty frog Manighar and I've towelled up that snivelling Frenchman on any number of occasions! Ah yes, I'm getting more confident as the big day draws nearer...
Well before I sign off for the night and jump into bed I must explain my Tweet from late last week. I've had any number of emails about that particular tweet and yes I'll confirm it now, Illustrious Blue is in love!
I've been swept off my feet, entranced, and generally gobsmacked by a gorgeous little filly staying just across the way...I'll reveal more later this week...
Until next time
Blue
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