Tag Archives: Derby

If The Name Of Every Kentucky Derby Horse Was A Sexual Maneuver: 2013 Edition

4 May
For information on The Secretariat, watch any episode of Mad Men.

For information on The Secretariat, watch any episode of Mad Men.

Last year, we received nearly ZERO death threats after turning every Kentucky Derby horse’s name into a sexual maneuver. Based on that success, we decided to try it again! We proudly ashamedly present the 2013 edition of If The Name Of Every Kentucky Derby Horse Was A Sexual Maneuver:

Revolutionary: This move is typically only intended for couples who have lost some of that spark in the relationship. In practice, “Revolutionary” is essentially the same as missionary position, but throughout the act both parties attempt to convince the other that what they’re doing is especially novel and stimulating. The French variation of “Revolutionary” is almost entirely similar, except in 69 rather than missionary position and with a woman who refuses to shave her armpit hair.

Overanalyze: A thrilling sexual practice usually only attempted by the most experienced and mature couples, the “Overanalyze” entails taking all your clothes off, standing on opposite sides of the room from each other, and asking what the hell you’re doing with them. You were so pretty in high-school. He should be taller. Oh my god, what if this guy poked a hole in the condom and gets you pregnant? Are you ready for that?

Orb: WARNING: Not intended for anal insertion. For external use only. Batteries not included.

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The Kentucky Derby Trip is Decadent and Depraved

2 May

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Sherman Ave countercultural correspondent Evander Jones recounts last year’s drunken, debauched scene at the infield of Churchill Downs.

I GOT OFF the charter bus around midnight and no one spoke as I walked into the Seymour, Indiana Days Inn. The air was thick and hot, like wandering into the men’s bathroom of the Keg. Inside, people hugged each other and shook hands … big grins and a whoop here and there: “By God! You old bastard! Come here bro.”

In the air-conditioned lounge I met an Econ major who said his name was something or other — “but just call me Jimbo” — and he was here to get it on. “I’m ready for anything, by God! Anything at all. Yeah, what are you drinkin?” I ordered a Margarita with ice, but he wouldn’t hear of it: “Naw, naw … what the hell kind of drink is that for Kentucky Derby time? What’s wrong with you, boy?” He grinned and winked at the bartender. “Goddam, we gotta educate this boy. Get him some good whiskey … ”

I shrugged. “Okay, a double Old Fitz on ice.” Jimbo nodded his approval.

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