Miss Thirtyfour D

Most of you are aware, I am sure, of the acclaimed excellence of my world-famous rack. When my magnificent horse-owning era dawns for me, however, I shall refrain from saddling any of my fillies with such names as "Miss Thirtyfour D."

That is the actual name of an actual filly that Gary "I Just Ride 'Em, I Don't Name 'Em" Stevens will ride today at Santa Anita. This less than a month after climbing aboard "That's An Outrage." Seriously: You can't win like this, Gary. This is the Thoroughbred-naming equivalent of heading down to Deck the Walls in the mall to pick up a quality print of "Dogs Playing Poker" for the State Dining Room of the White House. Does he just flick open the DRF and go, "What undignified-named mount can I get today?"

Let's just go the full nine here and dig up some claimer named "Booger." (Owner: Dave Barry. Headline: "GARY STEVENS WINS TRIPLE CROWN ON DAVE BARRY'S BOOGER.") Kentucky Derbies are won by Man 'O War... Affirmed... Charismatic. Not "Slap And A Lap Dance."

Since foals are usually christened with a nod to the sire and dam, I dug up Miss Hooters Billboard's pedigree to discover from whence her breastosity came.

And it comes from: Nowhere. Her father is the great Bertrando--through whom she is related to the even greater Native Dancer-- and her mother is named "Fine Fettle." So this poor lass is somebody's Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale gone horribly, horribly wrong. I think I will fly out to California this afternoon for the sole purpouse of leaning against the rails to holler: "GO, GARY! I'VE GOT THIRTYFOUR D HERE!!!!" Then I will get back on the plane, quietly satisfied that my life now has meaning.

She is more mercifully named, however, then some of the horses I've seen at the local track, where I have watched, but absolutely not bet on, the following:

-Stinkey Pant's (sic, literally)
-Sniffles
-Bushers Chad (okay, that's a porn alias if I ever heard one)
-Naughty Dreadlocks
-Dimpled Ballot (and this one's not even Florida-bred, people)
-Bongsilver (no, really)
-And "It's A Boy", who is-- wait for it-- a gelding.

Bear in mind, however, that the above was written by a person who at the age of nine very cheerfully rode a horse named "GaiBar" and didn't find a single thing suspicious about it until last month, when she announced: "When I left the chute on GaiBar--" and then wondered why people burst out laughing.