(no subject)

NASCAR

Dear FOX Announcers,

I understand that some things you say can be quite innocuous, and it's my mind that porns it, but referencing Jimmie Johnson as a cheerleader is not good for my sanity. Do you know what it's like to immediately have a mental image of Jimmie in a cheerleading uniform (he shaved his legs and boy are they pasty white) with Kevin falling over laughing? There was much mental mockage.

Also, you are all fired for slashing Newman and Terry Labonte. Just...ick. Cause you used the word "kink". And Terry and handcuffs are just WRONG.

Dear Kevin Harvick,

You know I love you. With all my heart. You get laid quite often in my imagination. But if you ever beat on Menard's ass like that again, I will drive over during my lunch break the following Monday and whup your butt. One hit was understandable. Two was going for the win. All the hits after that were excessive and really, you could have had second (oh god, I typed that "sex"), but you had to slow up to get off Menard who was slowing up and Yeley had nowhere to go it's Yeley, who is accident-prone.

Dear Newman,

Yeah. I rooted for you. It was because it was you or Kurt (or Jeff), and you know on my list of "Guys I Openly Root Against", you're the least despicable of the despicable.

So thanks for getting me fantasy league points.

Dear Boris,

I think I openly covet your kid now. OMG the cute!

Dear Tony,

See the part where I covet Boris' kid? And it's Boris? Who rules? "Fear the Fro" and all? Don't fuck with Boris, for I rarely get to root for him, which means anyone who fucks with Boris fucks with me that race.

Dear Jeff Gordon,

Never tell Ingrid she can't wear heels just because she's already tall and you're...not. Short men who marry models can't be pains in the butt about their height. (Learn from Tom Cruise's many mistakes.)

Dear Vickers,

We'll have a long heart to heart later about going to Red Bull Racing. Honey. It's Toyota. You'll be in your late twenties by the time they're actually competitive. *cuddles* On the plus side, you're still way young.

Dear Junior,

*sigh* Road race, honey. Can you get through one without incident? Don't go running over guys! That's why you use brake in the turn!

Dear Racing World, i.e. Commentators, Other Drivers, Columnists, my Brother-in-law,

Um, what crack are you guys smoking that you keep talking about how good Junior is on road courses? Seroiusly, the boy sucks at them. He sucks at them mightily. Even keeping out last year's Sonoma incident with the whole transmission going kerflooey on lap 1, he sucks. He's trying to get better, and he recognizes the need for them (he even suggested there be one in the Chase because of the diversity it brings), but when Junior flat out states he sucks on road courses...he's not lying. So stop trying to kiss his ass (and Boris, you especially have to explain the weird ass kissing, as you of all people know what it takes to succeed at a road course) and accept that he knows what he's good at.

Murphy's Law says...you're screwed!

Murphy's Law: "Everything that can possibly go wrong will go wrong."

1. Flooding with major roof leaking at my mother's store just hours after she leaves for two weeks in Ireland.

2. Landlord is conveniently out of town and not answering calls to his cell phone. (So far today is day three of this. Yep. He's still out of town.)

3. Rain is scheduled for every day this week. We're hoping it's not too bad.

4. The point of sale system suddenly won't print a receipt or open the cash drawer. Which the other point of sale system (computer number two of two - same system) did last summer and was discovered to be a hardware failure.

***

So basically, at this point I'm waiting for a cat to need to go to the vets (although I doubt that will happen, as the vet information was supposed to have been left for us - I've yet to see the instruction sheet at mom's house and will tonight, but if no vet info, a cat will get sick), the store to burn down, a grandparent to need hospitalization, someone to be in a car accident, the store or my parents' house will be burgled, or the IRA will go nutso in Ireland just around the corner from where my parents are staying any given time.

All I have to say is, there better be the better part of Murphy's Law which is, my sister gets pregnant and has to wait two weeks for my parents to get back to tell them. (I'm tempted to tell her to go home tonight and take a pregnancy test. She hasn't mentioned anything beyond some initial observations that could go either way and don't mean anything, but really, Murphy's Law...I wouldn't be surprised, especially since her husband is out of town all week as well.)