speaking of NASCAR
speaking of NASCAR
There is nothing special about Nascar. More than half the
country drives too fast, and a good percentage of those people
have even mastered the skill of driving fast and trying to get to
an actual location, as opposed to driving around in a circle five
hundred times. I'm not even sure if your average Nascar driver
knows how to make a right turn.
The real aim of Nascar is a three hour commercial.
Get this:
People actually tune in to watch a bunch of signs go so fast
that they become blurs. It's kind of like shaking your head really
fast when you see one of those sign trucks on the road.
And just like real driving, there are crashes. But here's where
the Nascar people get it right. Instead of stopping traffic and
then letting one car through at a time, which creates one hell of
a rubber neck induced traffic jam, the Nascar people put out a
caution. With the caution up, each driver gets to fulfill his
voyeuristic fantasies, without the delays. Maybe the cops
should simply have curious motorists go around the block.
There could be signs posted by every accident: "To proceed:
go straight; to see this grizzly scene again: circle right."
But mostly, the Nascar people get it all wrong. At the end of the
race, the "winner" gets a trophy, a kiss, and a big bottle of
champagne (unless he has the misfortune of being sponsored
by Coke or Pepsi). What kind of crap is this? Listen up, folks.
Driving around in 500 circles faster than everyone else is
nothing to celebrate. It simply proves to the world that you had
absolutely nothing better to do that day.
Of course, Nascar proves that most of the world has nothing
better to do on a weekend.
Who are these people at the races?
Seeing them there is pure torture. I mean we've got all of these
morons in one place (finally), and some nitwit built a wall
between them and the cars careening out of control. Dang!
Talk about a missed opportunity. I'm really serious about this.
Most reasonable people spend their lives trying to avoid traffic,
but these dipsticks actually spend the week rubbing their two
remaining brain cells together just to earn enough money to
watch traffic.
You might be wondering how I know so much about Nascar.
Well, I watched it once. I watched it for a whole minute. I saw
everything I needed to know.