Harsh but fair. I moved into the lucrative 28-32 single females, scared they're not going to meet someone market. I tick the two boxes, I have a job and a pulse.
The jockey put Boston Bob on the floor. Watch the head-on, hes all kick, slap, boot him in the ribs and the horse is going "WTF are you on about, what am I supposed to do?" Splat! If he'd left him alone, he wouldn't have confused him.
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