For the last two days, I've been reporting from the Kentucky Derby as a guest of Axe. If you haven't yet read the first four parts of this odyssey, you should do so now, because what's about to unfold relates directly to those events. Go ahead - I'll mix a Mint Julep and be waiting for you at the bar.

• Part One
• Part Two
• Part Three
• Part Four

All caught up? I can sure write the shit out of that stuff when I apply my drunken mind to it, don't you think?

So let's proceed with the tale. For, with the Derby, they say you should never rip up your betting slips until you've heard the official call, because sometimes the photos can tell a different story. And so it proved.

A bizarre cut from the latest MidWest Teen Sex Show.

Some people aren't content with a 15 inch laptop screen. Or even a 30 inch monitor.
For them, there's this site.

Lots of big screens, altogether.

This collection of crazy multi-monitors are mainly used by Wall Street types who need to watch loads of information all day long. But gamers and web designers use these too.

Impressive.

What do you do when a fire alarm interrupts your music practice? Find the key!

(via Buzzfeed)

The Derby is everything you imagine. And more.

I'm here to report that segregation is alive and well in old Kentucky, but ironically it's that most English of things, a class segregation. The Kentucky Derby is a frozen moment of history, where the unwashed Nascar masses party in the pit, looked down upon by the gentry from the spectator seats. The horses and the track - the reason at least half of us are there - only adds to the realization that we're re-enacting a age-old tradition that began not in 1875 in Louisville, but 200 BC, in a Coliseum in Rome, where ale-drinking, toga clad Senators looked down as animals and slaves did battle in the pit.

It was one of the greatest sporting moments of my life.