|IF THERE IS A BETTER-LOOKING WOMAN AT NASCAR |
I will eat my shirt. What's that? Coors Light girls? Goddamit! Thank heavens my shirt has spaghetti straps.
Have you missed me? You poor dears. I've been remiss in my snarking the past few days but it's only temporary. On account of I have a real job that actually pays the bills and from time to time they do require me to do some actual work instead of just sitting there looking bored but pretty while I Google "Ryan Gosling, nude, waist down."
So this weekend I'm at the NASCAR Camping World Truck series races at Mosport, and not only am I at the truck races but I am actually going to drive one of the pace cars on the track. Which, if you knew my pained relationship with moving vehicles, is actually pretty hilarious. I would venture to say that the Bermuda incident was one of the happier endings I've ever had in a vehicular relationship. In fact, in any relationship of any kind.
Anyway, point being, kind of otherwise preoccupied this weekend but rest assured that if anyone famous shows up and starts twerking or stripping or trying to name their baby Pole Position (oh trust me, it's possible), I will tattle. Immediately.
In the meantime, please enjoy this stunning picture of my freshly styled hair the night before the races. Because thanks to the relentless goddam humidity of an August that thinks it's July, it didn't last long. Not unlike my virginity.
Good lord. I think I'm done here ...