He would probably fuck a horse if you gave him a step ladder

That's how I was described to someone at work. I guess it has to do with some side comments made to female pedeadstrians as I passed. This certain person was starting to tell some stories out-of-school about what comments get said at the office when the machines are running, and no one can hear. I put a swift end to that.

Other than that, not a whole lot has been going on. I went to Churchill Downs on Sunday, and won every time I went to the beer booth. I actually didn't do to badly, since I went with 60, won 50, and came home with 40. That's right- I came home from the track with money! And no, I didn't leave at the fifth race.
When I got home I got some beer. I opened the box to find 18 friends in there. It was truly a good day.

Since it's been cold here lately, my car windows have been up. I yelled so loudly the other day that my ears rang afterward. This does prove that I am my own worst enemy.

the real question is, how hard would I fuck the horse.