I Say, Somebody Bet on the Bob-Tailed Nag

Tally-ho, Shakers!

Something all you slobberchopsity whippersnappers probably don't know about me is that my favorite song is "Camptown Races," written by the father of American music Stephen Foster and featuring what I estimably opine to be the greatest lyrical invention of the modern age: "Doo-dah." There's nothing quite like a good doo-dah, doo-dah, not that you sassafrassin' rapscallions with all that jitterbugging shenaniganity you call music would know what I mean.

Anyhoo, being the indefatigable dabbler in contemporary politics that I am, I've ever dreamed of the day when some clever rake could combine my two fancies—and today is that day come at long last! One Mister Christopher H. Matthews has made me the giddiest chappy this side of The Mighty Mississip!

Transcript (emphasis original):
…the 134th running of the Kentucky Derby; there's only one filly—that's only one female horse in the running. Her name is Eight Belles—that's B-E-L-L-E-S—and, not surprisingly, Hillary Clinton wants people to bet on the filly tomorrow, and on the female HUMAN in Kentucky's primary, which is going to be held May 20th.

By the way, the track tag (?) on Eight Belles is that she's got stamina to go the distance. Hillary's track record these past two months is just as strong.

[Thank you to Mr. Petulant for providing me with the videographic imagery from the televisory contraption show that Ms. McEwan informs me is called Hardballz.]

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