.....Advertisement.....
.....Advertisement.....

A week for horsin’ around

-A A +A
By Dick Frank

The 135th running of the Kentucky Derby takes place tomorrow. Known as “The Fastest Two Minutes in Sports” for its approximate duration, and also called “The Run for the Roses” for the blanket of roses draped over the winner, it is the most famous horserace in the United States.

Pun Alley celebrates this prestigious event by going to the track for some racy stories.

Zoology

A young boy told his mother that his father had taken him to the zoo. The mother couldn’t believe it. She said, “Your father has never taken anyone to the zoo in his whole life.”

The boy said, “He did, and one of the animals paid fifty dollars!”

Race Fan

A sharpie sold a naive racing fan a broken-down filly. When the fan went to the stable to see his new purchase, the vet was laboriously working over the horse.

“Is my horse sick?” asked the new owner.

“She’s not the picture of health,” the vet informed him, we hope to pull her through.”

‘Will I ever be able to race her?” asked the fan.

“Chances are you will,” the vet assured him, “and you’ll ably beat her, too.”

None Better

An anonymous donor left a modest estate to a small convent. Each nun was given $50 to give away as she saw fit.

Sister Catherine decided to give her share to the first poor person she saw. This happened to be a man leaning against the telephone pole across the street, and he obviously had known better days.

She went out to the man and pressed the $50 into the his hands and said, “Godspeed, my good man.”

As she left, the man called out to her, “What is your name?”

Shyly, she replied, “Sister Catherine.”

The following evening, the man returned to the convent and rang the bell. “I’d like to see Sister Catherine,” he said.

The nun at the door answered, “I’m sorry, but I cannot disturb her right now. May I give her a message?”

“Yes,” said the man gleefully. “Give her this $100 and tell her Godspeed came in second at Belmont.”

Little Bits

A racehorse is an animal that can take several thousand people for a ride at the same time.

Stop me if you’ve heard this story of my horse. It is a tale of whoa.

My Dad’s a sports mechanic. He fixes boxing matches and horse races.

All horses have six legs - forelegs in front and two in back.

There was the luckless guy who ran out of money and continued to bet the horses mentally. In no time, he lost his mind.

Some horses are in movies. But they have bit parts.

I bet on a great horse yesterday! It took seven horses to beat him.

When the horse fell down, he said, “I’ve fallen and I can’t giddy-up.”

A racetrack is a place where windows clean people.

Long Shot

George said to Fred, “I put $20 on a horse last week and he came in at twenty five to one.”

“Wow! You must be loaded,” Fred said.

“Not really” said George, “the rest of the field came in at twelve thirty.”

Courtyard Serenade

For weeks the destitute concert violinist shivering in his tenement had enviously watched the daily arrival of a bad neighborhood violinist who played in the courtyard below.

When the bad violinist sawed out his wretched tunes, windows in the tenement opened and tenants threw out wads of money.

One day the concert violinist decided to try the same thing. He played brilliantly but his take was only a meager eighty-five cents.

Completely bewildered, he put the question to the neighborhood violinist that afternoon.

“That’s simple,” said the second-rate novice. “The answer is that you also have to be a bookie.”

Better Than Bail Out

The bank president came in to check on the local branch before the fiscal year came to a close.

“Where’s Smith?” he asked, demanding to see the manager.

One of the tellers replied sheepishly, “He’s at the track.”

“At the track, in the middle of businesses hours?” he roared. “Whatever for?”

The teller said, “It’s his last stab to balance the books.”

Big Whinny

The horse had won the big race and was proudly telling his neighbor in the adjoining stall about it.

“And besides,” added, the winner happily, “I was promised, if I won the race, I’d get two extra bales of hay. And, brother, that ain’t money.”

It’s time to stop telling these tales of whoa. Or, as the horse said upon eating all of its hay, “That’s the last straw!” Dick and his wife Jane live in Oak Run.