I'd just like to announce that today I spent half a day at the Turf Club for the purpose of performing three times, 5 minutes each. Do the math, and curse the ratio. What a great way to spend your precious Sunday, counter-marching continuously on a small patch of uneven green grass and playing boring marches for thousands of people who don't even care.

Inhabiting the place was a hodge-podge of sore-eyed smokers and by god I do mean incorrigible litterbugs as the entire internal space was strewn with 4D tickets, tissue paper, newspapers and other forms of paper one would consider rubbish. Accompanying those would be cigarette butts and plastic drink cups left over. I felt sorry for whoever had to clean up that horrifying mess. Imagine this, a huge crowd of mature old men and women, with sufficient knowledge as to how to get there and how to conceitedly attempt to make some kind of killing that would be book-worthy, at least to them, and they don't even have the ability to make the tiniest consideration that their incessant chucking of random trash was making life a hell of a lot harder for the cleaners. And I don't mean a ticket here, a piece of paper there. It was bloody EVERYWHERE. The floor was made up of small square tiles, perhaps 15cmx15cm, and I can confidently say there was at least one piece of trash on each tile. Go figure.

These guys (and girls) really need to get a life. They've reduced what I believe used to be the magnificent grandeur of the Turf Club into a loathesome, crowded, filthy cesspool filled with uncouth, underdressed, grubby retirees and housewives.

From now on I look at Turf Club deployments with pure disdain.

On a lighter note, it is a good day for surprises, isn't it?