I recently typed the letters G-O-D into the Google search window. This picture shows what Google suggests when you type that. (Try it yourself!)

I was trying to type: “Goddamn, Megan Fox is hot!” But I only got three letters in before Google suggested “godaddy” so I ended up watching sexy Danica Patrick videos instead.

Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, or even other body parts, like when you’re at Saratoga or Thistledown or Santa Anita and you basically have this very hot, tingly, but not unpleasant feeling like millions of fire ants are nesting in your perineum.

And what your fire-breathing perineum is telling you is that for some reason you just know for certain that it’s a fantastic idea to place $50,000 to win on a three-year old filly named “Tuff Pig Engine” who’s got about 5000 mgs of (entirely legal) furosemide coursing through her veins and whose eyes say that she’s about to have a psychotic break any minute.

And your perineum — !!!SURPRISE!!! — wins big. And so you take some of the cash and immediately call Fists of Fury Escort Service and treat your lucky perineum to an eight-hour very intensive perineal massage.

Which is one of the reasons why I’m worried that Sarah Palin is the Antichrist. It’s just this feeling I have.

And our next book is…