Gamble More, Drink More, No Longer the Murder Capital of America ...Baltimore!
Just one of many animals worth more money that I will ever make in my lifetime.
The infield, and it's only 1pm. Imagine what sort of a Hepatitis cesspool this will become by the end of the day.
Where the more civilized folk come to gamble and drink.
"Goddamnit Frannie! I told you we should have done more research before we got here. Now, who do you like in the 6th? I want $3 on Poppa's Gotta Brand New Bag."
The straight-away where Big Brown would later break from the pack.
The Black-eyed Susan, the official drink of the Preakness.
They wanted to know why I was taking their picture. "Are you gay or something? Is that why you want my picture?" Uh, no. I just think you guys look cool. The 10 year-old scornfully dismissed me with, "Get the fuck outta here."
The neighborhoods surrounding the track take full advantage of the hordes of rich white people that descend on the area once a year. Almost every house was charging for parking and/or selling barbecue and sodas.
1 comment:
Woah, you went to the Preakness! That's crazy.
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