The mini-vacation: Maker Mark Day @ Keeneland and Disney

We just got back from driving 2,000 miles in 5 days.  Wooof...my butt hurts from sitting that long, but we did have a great time. Allow me to explain.

Racetracks. Yes, we are bettors

Every year, the bourbon, Maker's Mark, sponsors a day at the Keeneland Race track in Lexington, KY. As we are Kentucky Colonels, I like drinking bourbon, and the wife's Dad and wife live there, we decided to head on up and bet the ponies. 10 races, 5 bets, we walked away with about $65, basically breaking even when you consider we paid for lunch, etc.


It was a nice afternoon, followed by a delicious dinner at a local German restaurant named Marikkas. Brats, sauerkraut, wiener schnitzel and beer? Yes, please!

Maker's Mark day at Keeneland was followed by the Retirement party of the CEO of the company, Bill Samuels. He's the 7th(?) generation of Samuels to distill bourbon and he had a blow out to celebrate. A very large tent was set up in a hotel parking lot in downtown Lexington. There was a band, lighting and sound equipment, food, and of course, booze. Tickets were $10 a pop and all proceeds went to a local shelter for battered woman (insert snarky comment here about booze and abuse).

I will not suffer a Tryanny of Meatheads

This happened over a month ago, I just haven't gotten around to writing it until now.

Related to this post regarding athletes in high school and continuing on, I am here to relate the story of the Redneck Meathead who I encountered early Sunday morning as I left my house to go to my neighbors to let their dog out. (Side note: I'll update this post with a photo when I can capture said meathead).

Anyway, there is a very large Marine (meaning steroided up without a neck Marine) who lives in the neighborhood and he has a dog. A little one. It's actually kinda cute to see him walking with a tiny dog because of the dichotomy of the two images. The problem is that he never, and I mean never, cleans up after the dog poops. He just leaves it on whoever's yard the dog happens to poop on.

My neighbors and I have noticed this, and have often commented on either confronting him or writing a letter to the Home Owners Association to complain. No one wants to confront him because he's huge, and could easliy snap a person in two like a twig.

But, for anyone who knows me, I sometimes do stupid things. Like this particular Sunday, for instance.

Let me set the stage: