10 Ways To Ruin Your Life At The Little Brown Jug

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It’s September in Delaware, Ohio and you know what that means: Yes, the world-famous dead horse parade is right around the corner. But when you can’t get one of those four-legged fucks to shit in your square, the weather starts to turn, and suddenly it feels like suicide season again: you know it’s time for the Little Brown Jug. 

If you want to go all out this year and straight-up ruin your life instead of just having a good time, these ideas will help. 

1. Smash a beer bottle over the head of a Delaware County Sheriff

It’s easier than throwing a ping-pong ball in a fishbowl, and you will certainly walk away with more than a dead fish in a sack of water.

Try this and the ass beating you receive won’t be what ruins your life; it will be the felonious assault charges that follow.

On Jug Day, even the cops are trying to cool it with everyone. Bashing one while he’s feeling friendly is a great way to ruin it for everybody. 

2. Befriend a carny on the Midway and get human trafficked 

There’s a reason the Midway is barren during the Little Brown Jug: It’s a haven for human traffickers.

What sounds better to you: minimum wage pissed away on lemon shake-ups you can’t enjoy anymore, and the grating squeals of joyful children and teens who have yet to realize they’re going to end up just like you one day, OR kidnapping and selling drunks for $10K each and finally having enough dough to eat endless elephant ears in the RV of your dreams?

You guessed correctly.

3. Bet your life savings on a horse with a small dick


Betting your life savings on any horse is probably a bad idea, but going for broke on a horse with a small penis is guaranteed to end poorly.

Why? Simple: Standardbreds with teenie weenies are insecure, and insecure penises are not very fun to suck on. When these studs don’t get enough head, a devastating accumulation of semen in the balls results. Their heavy, swollen sacks– coupled with crippling doubts about being big enough to please even the shallowest of miniature pony poons– slow these poor bastards to a pace that makes short bus window washers shake their heads. 

4. Be a Democrat

This ain’t New York or California, faggot. This is Trump country. In these parts, unless you want a gang of Christian man-meat stuffed in your cocksucker, you keep your yap snapped shut and stay in line. Around here, having a different opinion will get you excommunicated at best, and at worst, murdered. And death pretty much ruins your life. 

5. Bring your family

Not only will your children rape your wallet for ride tickets, endless ring tossing, and cotton candy– After wasting the day you hoped to devote to drunken debauchery and an opportunistic port-o-john romp with a desperate, half-naked high-school dropout– they’ll throw a sticky middle finger up at you as their sugar-high crashes them faster than a diabetic off metformin. 

What’s worse? Your wife will blame you the whole way home for their ungrateful backseat screeches, because you thought buying the tinier, shittier versions of you a fuckton of candy was part of the whole family experience she wanted in the first place.

Don’t bring your family, man. The time to enjoy your life is over anyway, and you’re just going to make it worse.

6. Call off work for the entire week

Some people work through their weekends, vacations, the birth of their children, and the deaths of their loved ones. Some people cannot take a day off from Wendy’s to go to the hospital and get their staph infection checked out. Others, still, feel a sense of pride, purpose, and conviction working well past the age of retirement.

Then there are people who take an entire week off of work for a horse race. These people don’t give a fuck about their lives. 

There may not be much left to life outside of work and sleep and excuses to drink around people you’ve known your entire life, but it gets worse when Friday rolls around and you’re broke, hungover, and out a job.

7. Win a lot of money on a horse with a big dick

Ah, the ol’ double-headed-horse-cock. When you bet on a pacer with a tiny dick, you set yourself up to lose your hard-earned money. Bet it all on a big one and win, though, and your life is still over because you were never meant to be rich. 

Face it: if you’re the type of person who places life-changing bets at the Little Brown Jug, you aren’t the type of person who deserves to be happy or have nice things. Your small fortune will be squandered before you exit the fairgrounds. 

8. Overdose on fentanyl on the backstretch

Can’t do coke, smoke, and chug booze like a respectable degenerate? Then step it up a notch and do some fentanyl at the betting booth and slide into the dark forever. 

Don’t forget to place a bet first. It’s good luck in the after life. They like gamblers in hell. 

9. Shoot a Jug horse in the face with a high caliber rifle

You may get away with shooting a random horse on Jug Day, one of those piece-of-shit 4H hobby animals that some 12 year old looks after to convince her father she isn’t going to get fat. 

Use a small round, shoot it in the ass or something; sure, it’s doable. You might get out of it or walk on minor charges; chalk it up as a prank. A little playful animal abuse never hurts. Everyone makes mistakes.

But the whole equation changes when you decide to blast a crater into the head of an important horse. Poor people forgive and forget, because they too enjoy the misery of creatures that give them a sense of control in the world, and because they can’t afford to sue. 

Wealthy horse people? Not so much. They’ll use your life to fill the hole in their horse’s head. 

10. Stay sober

There is only one way to enjoy the Little Brown Jug, and that is hammered drunk. Going sober is for Rotary volunteers and Merchant Building vendors. If you want to ruin your life, go spend all day with a bunch of people you hate while they get rabid drunk and you watch quietly from the sidelines. 

Ricardo Paye
Ricardo Paye
Ricardo Paye is a Senior Correspondent with Delaware Ohio News. Born and raised in the Delaware County Fairgrounds, he's a reporter with a deep knowledge of the streets who isn't afraid to ask tough questions. His fondest childhood memory is getting a hand job from a public utility worker in the basement of Pilsner's 5 & Dime store. He holds a bachelor's degree in Euthanasia from Ohio Wesleyan University.



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