An Open Letter to Big Brown

Dear Big Brown,

Remember when anyone cared about your so-called career?  Yeah, it's fading pretty fast.  That's why I was shocked to read that you were planning on racing again on August 4th at the Haskell Invitational.  The Haskell Fucking Invitational?  What in the shitty fuck is that?  First of all, nobody's heard of that race.  You're only further embarrassing yourself trying to hold on to the tattered remains of your glory days.  You should have just quit after the Preakness if you weren't even going to try, you stupid fucking horse.  You're fucking stupid, man.

Secondly, consider me shocked that you even have the horse balls to show your long face anywhere near a track after the charade you pulled at the Belmont.  I mean, seriously:  what the fuck?  You come to race, and then you just stop running?  You're supposed to be the best horse in thirty years, and you come in dead last?  Does that seem right?  You coward. 

You used to be proud, man.  I watched you kick royal ass at the Derby, bro.  You murdered that other horse!  I was like, OH SHIT!  He killed that horse!  And then I was like, NO WAY, HE LITERALLY KILLED THAT HORSE!  That was amazing.  I even tried calling you on the phone, because I had a little too much to drink and I wanted to fight you.  That's how tough I thought you were, Big Brown.  That's how tough.

And then you lost the Belmont?  Come on!  According to my bookie, the Belmont is the easiest of all the races.  In the world!  Ever!  That's an exact quote!  And he watches horses run all the time! 

You're a stupid fucking horse.  Big Brown -- what kind of a name is that, anyway?  Sounds like a pile of shit to me.

Big Brown, what I'm trying to say is that you really fucked me up out there.  I mean, one second the sun is rising in the east and setting in the west, the rivers are flowing to the sea, Big Brown's kicking ass and I've got a huge, fucking huge amount of money riding on Big Brown.  And I'm letting it ride, because you're looking good out there, Big Brown.  And then what happened?

I'll tell you what happened.  You fucked me, Big Brown.  And not in the way that I thought you might maybe consider under the perfect circumstances.  Now the whole world is upside down.  I tore all your posters down.  Your calendar is gone.  My dreams for us: gone.  And all because you couldn't run one more race.  You are a fucking horse, and all you fucking do is run, and you fucking stopped running.  YOU STOPPED FUCKING RUNNING!

And then, after all that, after all you put me through, Big Brown, now you don't even have the decency to stay out of my life?  You can't just stay in the pasture somewhere far away from my binoculars and my other, stronger binoculars?  No.  Ohhh, no.  Here comes Big Brown, gonna make the Big Comeback, gonna race in the Biiiiig Haskell Invitational as if that's going to make everything OK.  I can see you now, ambling up to the starting gate, looking all pretty.

Ah, who am I kidding?  I forgive you, Big Brown.

We still on for tonight?

Love,

XOXOXO

Ramsey Pie