I am delighted to announce that I shall be taking my annual holiday on Georgia, counting the Penguins and ensuring that the ice in my Gin is as fresh as possible. Meanwhile, Capt. Kneesup has managed to pay off the debts he incurred after mortgaging the house, selling Lady Kneesup, and visiting Burly Betty, the uni-dextered money-lender from Bognor for those two unfortunate wagers on Apple’s Jade and the forecast with Buveur D’Air last year. This means that he is once again available to shoulder the editorial reins for National Hunt racing, while I restore the flagging tipping machine, which even by my own low standards has hit the bottom of a trough between the waves in the Sea of Despond.
Before I depart for my annual holiday, I leave you with a couple of items bought to my attention by your fellow travellers. They add I think
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