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Pissed Paddy: Any day an Irish man gets to wear a suit without having to enter a church is a day to be savoured

Paddy Power PR maverick Feilim Mac Unpronounceable is at Cheltenham. Best gig on the planet. To give a taste of the action to the less fortunate such as ourselves, we asked him to file some copy for us, while under the influence. This is the unedited, rather shambolic result...

by Paddy Power | March 12, 2014

Night 2 of the festival, beer in hand and instead of merrymaking and trying to cajole the ladies of Cheltenham into liking me enough to snog me in the face I somehow find myself writing a blog.

However, any day an Irish man gets to wear a suit without having to enter a church is a day to be savoured and today couldn’t have started any better when the first gamble of the day, a hot dog from a vendor, went down easier than [subbed-out lazy pun].

Things got better on a personal level continued to get better when the horse I fancied more than Miley Cyrus (unapologetically yes), faugheen, stormed to victory.

However, things were looking a lot less rosey with the professional hat on as the results of the day left us with a bill that wouldn’t look out of place in Charles Saatchi’s divorce settlement.

Speaking of the Saatchi’s [note rogue apostrophe], I was busier than Nigella’s drug dealer trying to chase my losses towards the end of the day while my scouse mate cleaned up on 55/1 shot (can’t remember the horses name, throw it in lads)

After the day’s racing I’ve let what little hair I have down and have a couple of quiet ones but now the gang is mooting shots and my head nodding to the suggestion may be the worst decision made by a Paddy Power employee since we left the chainsaw juggling work experience kid pick the festival special.

*Not actually drunk.

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