Oh Preakness, I remember how you used to be. Before the B-list bands, the exhibition sports and thinly veiled attempts at gouging people for beer money. You were the Best of Times, the Blurst of Times.
The rampant pissing, the fecal lagoons, the 3rd world population density, the fist fights in the mud, the dried beer and dirt slip n’ slides, the guys passed out on top of their girlfriends who were too weak to push them off, the toilet bridges, the full beer can fights, the entire bus vs. bus fist fights afterward ….truly magical. A single tear wells in my eye every time I think of you, and it is with great fondness I present this small slice – the parts that are safe for the public to view – of the memories you have given us.
Mostly dirt, some beer
WOO DIRT
Peeing in his own shorts
…is he?
Only route across the fecal lagoon
A Royal Flush
Stay classy, (greater) Baltimore (area).
what about the full cans of miller lite that rained down at random like mortar shells? or the sex under mud-splattered blankets? or the vomit … on you?