BARBARO'S ABOUT TO GO FROM ASHY TO CLASSY
By Tony Riazzi
prayers4mojo@gmail.com
Like Batman and Detective John McClane before him, Barbaro cannot be killed. Oh sure, he is physically deceased, but stories about him refuse to die. Nearly one year after falling asleep standing up for the last time, the horse's ashes have apparently still not been disposed of. His owners are still discussing what to do with them, but they say they are close to a decision. So just show some patience you insensitive bastards, losing a horse is a very traumatic experience. In some ways it's worse than losing a person you're close to because very rarely did that person's performance while running in a circle win you prize money. So in an effort to aid the grieving process, and hopefully bury the expired equine forever, I've decided to put together a list of suggestions for his owners as to what they can do with the ashes. That way they can properly honor this amazing athlete whose time here on earth, time spent pooing on his tail and being ridden and whipped by a tiny Mexican man, was far too short:
Give them to Keith Richards to snort: Speaking of incapable of being killed, Keith has already mixed his dad's ashes up with some booger sugar and snorted that, so why not a horse? What's it gonna do to him? He could even call it Barbar-blow! That's gold, Jerry!
Add them to batch of hot dogs: It's only fair to Barbaro's remains that they be reunited with whatever spare parts of him were previously sold off. What better way to say good-bye than to have his ashes used to put the finishing touches on a pack of cheddar-filled Kahn's. Did you really think hot dog's were all pig?
Put him in a decorative artifact on your mantle: Be the first on your block to have a vase full of burnt horse. And what better way to honor him then by displaying him for all to see? Also, the pride you'll feel when you tell people that you're still holding onto your dead horse's ashes is a reward in of itself.
Cash in: This one's actually not a joke. People would pay for this shit. We could divide him up and cash in. It's what he would have wanted. Plus, think of all the money he screwed you out of by not making it to stud, no pun intended. You could finally pay off his medical bills and have a little something left over for that mini horse you've both had your eye on. I'll handle the marketing and sales. My fee is 30%.
"Is there a Ralph's around here?": A horse like Barbaro deserves a send off befitting a beloved figure like Theodore Donald 'Donny' Kerabatsos. So it might be a good idea if his owners went down to Ralph's and picked up their most modestly priced receptacle. Then, as his ashes spew from the industrial size coffee can, they can recite this heartfelt eulogy: "Barbaro was a good runner, and a good horse. He was one of us. He was a horse who loved the outdoors...and running. He died, like so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you've taken so many bright, flowering horses at Keenland, at Saratoga, at Aqueduct. These horses gave their lives. And so would Barbaro. Barbaro, who loved running. And so, Barbaro, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your final mortal remains to the bosom of Churchill Downs, which you loved so well. Good night, sweet prince."
prayers4mojo@gmail.com
Like Batman and Detective John McClane before him, Barbaro cannot be killed. Oh sure, he is physically deceased, but stories about him refuse to die. Nearly one year after falling asleep standing up for the last time, the horse's ashes have apparently still not been disposed of. His owners are still discussing what to do with them, but they say they are close to a decision. So just show some patience you insensitive bastards, losing a horse is a very traumatic experience. In some ways it's worse than losing a person you're close to because very rarely did that person's performance while running in a circle win you prize money. So in an effort to aid the grieving process, and hopefully bury the expired equine forever, I've decided to put together a list of suggestions for his owners as to what they can do with the ashes. That way they can properly honor this amazing athlete whose time here on earth, time spent pooing on his tail and being ridden and whipped by a tiny Mexican man, was far too short:
Give them to Keith Richards to snort: Speaking of incapable of being killed, Keith has already mixed his dad's ashes up with some booger sugar and snorted that, so why not a horse? What's it gonna do to him? He could even call it Barbar-blow! That's gold, Jerry!
Add them to batch of hot dogs: It's only fair to Barbaro's remains that they be reunited with whatever spare parts of him were previously sold off. What better way to say good-bye than to have his ashes used to put the finishing touches on a pack of cheddar-filled Kahn's. Did you really think hot dog's were all pig?
Put him in a decorative artifact on your mantle: Be the first on your block to have a vase full of burnt horse. And what better way to honor him then by displaying him for all to see? Also, the pride you'll feel when you tell people that you're still holding onto your dead horse's ashes is a reward in of itself.
Cash in: This one's actually not a joke. People would pay for this shit. We could divide him up and cash in. It's what he would have wanted. Plus, think of all the money he screwed you out of by not making it to stud, no pun intended. You could finally pay off his medical bills and have a little something left over for that mini horse you've both had your eye on. I'll handle the marketing and sales. My fee is 30%.
"Is there a Ralph's around here?": A horse like Barbaro deserves a send off befitting a beloved figure like Theodore Donald 'Donny' Kerabatsos. So it might be a good idea if his owners went down to Ralph's and picked up their most modestly priced receptacle. Then, as his ashes spew from the industrial size coffee can, they can recite this heartfelt eulogy: "Barbaro was a good runner, and a good horse. He was one of us. He was a horse who loved the outdoors...and running. He died, like so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you've taken so many bright, flowering horses at Keenland, at Saratoga, at Aqueduct. These horses gave their lives. And so would Barbaro. Barbaro, who loved running. And so, Barbaro, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your final mortal remains to the bosom of Churchill Downs, which you loved so well. Good night, sweet prince."
Labels: ashes, Barbaro, hot dogs, Keith Richards
posted by Tony Riazzi at
8:24 AM
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