
As soon as I snatched up my yellow ribbon Sarah and I embarked on our mission of getting as intoxicated as possible on the free Cartier Champagne in the judges stand. I, to ease the crushing sense of failure and disappointment in seeing what I felt entitled to go to someone else. Sarah, well she just likes free booze. We brown bagged a fifth of voddie, bummed some smokes off a carnie or two and called it a day.

You can take the girls out of Philly...but you can't make them drink. Rather, you can lead a fillie to water, but...
Oh nevermind I've got to get back to work on a new hat. Sunday is another hat contest and I'm going armed with the knowledge of how these things work this time. Well, not really because I'm still clueless. Pretending to be wealthy is exhausting; I can't wait until I actually am the real McCoy just so I can relax already and kick my feet up without worrying someone will see the trace of a neon green sticker on the bottom of my second-hand Ferragamos.
Until then, I will keep faking it until I make it. I'll check in again after the Polo Cup so set your eyes to tranquil because my next post will be full of BLUE.
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