Posted by Matt Bisogno on October 4, 2010 · 13 Comments
Do you ever have one of those days, dear reader, when nothing goes your way? One of those days when every set of lights you arrive at turns red; where it seems to start raining as soon as you leave the house (minus umbrella); and, where you miss two buses and end up waiting thirty minutes for the next one?
Welcome to my Sunday horribilis. On the racing front, I was wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong again. On the punting front, my wrongitude cost me fortune, as I followed my judgment over the top and into a barrage of artillery fire (or matched wagers, to be less metaphorical).
Let me briefly spell out my day, for which
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