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More Completely Random Stories
Posted by
Cinco
,
30 June 2009
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WARNING: This entry is long and potentially offensive to Southerners, Europeans, Eastern Europeans, mikathegreat2, and trashy women from the tri-state area. As well as other people. Please do enjoy it. Also it's long. REAAAAALLLY long. I suggest breaking it up into parts. Because unlike me, you don't have the time. However, to my credit, I hit enter after every line so it looks really long but it's not that long.
As many of you know, I have attended the last five Pennsylvania International 500-Mile Kentucky Fried Chicken Redneck Festivals of Speed, Money, and Crashes with a Spicy Southern Deep-Fried Homestyle Grits and Biscuits Flare, and will be attending my sixth in August.
To celebrate such an event, I'm going to share some incredible stories from the past ones, except not the actual races but rather the entertaining stuff.
This entry is enhanced with quotations, by the way. Which will please the masses I am sure.
In 2004 a drunk guy was making out with a cardboard cutout of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. on the side of the road. I bet you're aroused now.
He didn't really say that, but perhaps he should've.
In 2005 we stayed in a four-star resort that had "recently remodelled." The problem was, recently meant twenty years ago, as it so often does in Redneck, PA. When we walked in, there was a foul odor, a bit like George on one of the days he neglects to bathe (since Europeans never bathe). It was kind of a combination of peanut butter, urine, and whiteboard cleaner.
Now, the fun thing was, they had a swimming pool, which was filled with old KFC buckets, diarrhea, and syphilis. So of course we went in completely disregardin the sign on the door that said:
I was glad to know that AFTER I got out of the pool and had Herpes Simplex Virus 6.
Though I really didn't but if I did I would've sued because it said nothing about discolored...
So, anyway, that was fun.
I have no recollection of anything superdupercrazaaaay happening in 2006.
In 2007, the staff at the Big Amazing Insanely Super Cool Racing Facility of God decided to manage traffic in a very exciting way: we'll clear out one parking lot at a time and save your parking lot for last, Eric.
She didn't say that but THEY DID IT ANYWAY AND ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS!!!!
So, while we were waiting to leave, we watched a grown man wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off (because you aren't allowed to wear anything else into an International Redneck Festival of Festivities, unless it's an F1 shirt, because F1 is the new leading feeder series of NASCAR), he also had a name tag that said "hello my name is mikathegreat2 and I don't read Eric's blog entries like I should"
But anyway, he saw one of the RVs parked in the RV parking section had a Canadian flag, and Canada is communist, so this man decided to climb the fence to get there and defend the United States of America from those mean bad nasty baddies to the North. However, as the USA's most important hero was climbing the fence, he got a bit wobbly (he made George look sober AND thin, so balance probably wasn't his strong point at this particular moment) and neutered himself on the fence.
Which is a life lesson.
Earler that day, some people whose job in life is literally to sell parking to race fans on their front lawn in areas not already taken up by late 80s Chevrolet pickup trucks with Confederate flags came up to our car as we waited in traffic to get into God's Big Triangular Racetrack of Fury and Excitement.
We declined. Which is a life lesson.
In 2008 A GAZILLION exciting things happened.
First we saw a sign on the road.
Who Cares Chevrolet is now a used car dealer. They had some fine offerings such as a Pontiac Aztek with no wheels and Bentley Continental.
Yeah. A Bentley Continetal. In perfect condition. I said WTF too.
Then we went to a MALL. We had to drive a long way to get there. There's just stretches of NOTHING. And a motel. Though the motel sign was pointed at a slab of concrete with a field behind it. So it wasn't a real motel. At this super cool mall, there were two stores. One sold plastic swords. And some other not-so-plastic ones that you could use to kill people and slice pork roasts with. The other store was called Wacky Bear Factory. It looked like a front to get kids to say yes to some "candy." Seeing as it was totally empty and there were no wacky bears, just some fat guy with poor personal hygiene skills standing there waiting for some prey.
He didn't say that but he was thinking it.
As we walked out when we realized there wasn't a food court and therefore the mall served no purpose in life, this weird Mexican lady came out of no where.
We said no. She followed us. Into the parking lot.
We walked into a Burger King and she left.
Okay so now I've used all 10 of my quotes so no more quotes
.
This fat lady had a shirt with a Confederate flag. It said "You wouldn't understand, it's a Southern thing" written on it.
I wish my shirt had had "You wouldn't understand, it's a Southern thing" written under this:
http://boldt.us/8087...uy_on_a_scooter
Though a scooter is far too eco-friendly for the South. So I guess that wouldn't work. Oh well.
Then during the race some weird Eastern European guy decided that while I was getting lunch he was going to take my seat.
Both my father and I politely informed this wonderful and culturally diverse specimen of humanity that we were the proud possessors of the tickets that correspond to the labelling on those particular human containment devices.
Eventually (like 10 seconds later) he moved over one. Into my dad's seat. We finally got him to get up in another 5 seconds or so.
And then he leaned over our shoulders and started smoking in our faces. So we got up to avoid that. And he took our seats again. But it's good because smoking is BANNED from God's Big Geometrically Complex Facility of Speed and Festivities and Hairy Eastern European Men Who Don't Bathe.
People like that deserve to be told nicely by a security person to please leave or they will bring out the tasers like they did to some kid at my school in the hallway it was SO COOL.
The end.
I hope this entry has given you a complete and totol understanding of why I have gone to NASCAR races for so many years and still continue to do so even though I haven't watched a NASCAR race on TV since the last time I watch a NASCAR race on TV which was a long time ago, maybe the amount of time it would take to read this entry if you read really slowly and had a heart attack in the middle of it, and all the positive things that happen at these events in the towns they transpire in.
As many of you know, I have attended the last five Pennsylvania International 500-Mile Kentucky Fried Chicken Redneck Festivals of Speed, Money, and Crashes with a Spicy Southern Deep-Fried Homestyle Grits and Biscuits Flare, and will be attending my sixth in August.
To celebrate such an event, I'm going to share some incredible stories from the past ones, except not the actual races but rather the entertaining stuff.
This entry is enhanced with quotations, by the way. Which will please the masses I am sure.
In 2004 a drunk guy was making out with a cardboard cutout of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. on the side of the road. I bet you're aroused now.
Drunk guy said:
JOOOOONYERRRRR.
He didn't really say that, but perhaps he should've.
In 2005 we stayed in a four-star resort that had "recently remodelled." The problem was, recently meant twenty years ago, as it so often does in Redneck, PA. When we walked in, there was a foul odor, a bit like George on one of the days he neglects to bathe (since Europeans never bathe). It was kind of a combination of peanut butter, urine, and whiteboard cleaner.
Now, the fun thing was, they had a swimming pool, which was filled with old KFC buckets, diarrhea, and syphilis. So of course we went in completely disregardin the sign on the door that said:
Those crafty b#####ds who make signs said:
Warning: Spending considerable amounts of time in this swimming facility may lead to discolored swimwear and/or hair.
I was glad to know that AFTER I got out of the pool and had Herpes Simplex Virus 6.
Though I really didn't but if I did I would've sued because it said nothing about discolored...
So, anyway, that was fun.
I have no recollection of anything superdupercrazaaaay happening in 2006.
In 2007, the staff at the Big Amazing Insanely Super Cool Racing Facility of God decided to manage traffic in a very exciting way: we'll clear out one parking lot at a time and save your parking lot for last, Eric.
Lady with a funny neon-colored vest who was directing traffic said:
We plan on waiting for all the teams to pack up their equipment and drive home before we let you go.
She didn't say that but THEY DID IT ANYWAY AND ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS!!!!
So, while we were waiting to leave, we watched a grown man wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off (because you aren't allowed to wear anything else into an International Redneck Festival of Festivities, unless it's an F1 shirt, because F1 is the new leading feeder series of NASCAR), he also had a name tag that said "hello my name is mikathegreat2 and I don't read Eric's blog entries like I should"
His nametag said:
hello my name is mikathegreat2 and I don't read Eric's blog entries like I should
But anyway, he saw one of the RVs parked in the RV parking section had a Canadian flag, and Canada is communist, so this man decided to climb the fence to get there and defend the United States of America from those mean bad nasty baddies to the North. However, as the USA's most important hero was climbing the fence, he got a bit wobbly (he made George look sober AND thin, so balance probably wasn't his strong point at this particular moment) and neutered himself on the fence.
Which is a life lesson.
Life lesson number 8 said:
Don't mess with Canucks
Earler that day, some people whose job in life is literally to sell parking to race fans on their front lawn in areas not already taken up by late 80s Chevrolet pickup trucks with Confederate flags came up to our car as we waited in traffic to get into God's Big Triangular Racetrack of Fury and Excitement.
Slutty New Jersey Slut Number 1 said:
You boys look sober, how are you going to enjoy the race? Park here for $100, and we'll give you a free six-pack
We declined. Which is a life lesson.
Life lesson number 3.14 said:
Don't pay $100 for alcoholic beverages, especially when you don't drink and it's 7 AM.
In 2008 A GAZILLION exciting things happened.
First we saw a sign on the road.
Sign on the road in 2008 said:
Try the new 1989 Geo Prizm today at who cares Chevrolet!
Who Cares Chevrolet is now a used car dealer. They had some fine offerings such as a Pontiac Aztek with no wheels and Bentley Continental.
Yeah. A Bentley Continetal. In perfect condition. I said WTF too.
Then we went to a MALL. We had to drive a long way to get there. There's just stretches of NOTHING. And a motel. Though the motel sign was pointed at a slab of concrete with a field behind it. So it wasn't a real motel. At this super cool mall, there were two stores. One sold plastic swords. And some other not-so-plastic ones that you could use to kill people and slice pork roasts with. The other store was called Wacky Bear Factory. It looked like a front to get kids to say yes to some "candy." Seeing as it was totally empty and there were no wacky bears, just some fat guy with poor personal hygiene skills standing there waiting for some prey.
Wacky Bear Employee said:
Get in ma belleh
He didn't say that but he was thinking it.
As we walked out when we realized there wasn't a food court and therefore the mall served no purpose in life, this weird Mexican lady came out of no where.
Weird Mexican lady said:
I want to see your hands, oh they bad, you need cream, yes buy this cream. Buy for your wife too she want.
We said no. She followed us. Into the parking lot.
We walked into a Burger King and she left.
Okay so now I've used all 10 of my quotes so no more quotes
.This fat lady had a shirt with a Confederate flag. It said "You wouldn't understand, it's a Southern thing" written on it.
I wish my shirt had had "You wouldn't understand, it's a Southern thing" written under this:
http://boldt.us/8087...uy_on_a_scooter
Though a scooter is far too eco-friendly for the South. So I guess that wouldn't work. Oh well.
Then during the race some weird Eastern European guy decided that while I was getting lunch he was going to take my seat.
Both my father and I politely informed this wonderful and culturally diverse specimen of humanity that we were the proud possessors of the tickets that correspond to the labelling on those particular human containment devices.
Eventually (like 10 seconds later) he moved over one. Into my dad's seat. We finally got him to get up in another 5 seconds or so.
And then he leaned over our shoulders and started smoking in our faces. So we got up to avoid that. And he took our seats again. But it's good because smoking is BANNED from God's Big Geometrically Complex Facility of Speed and Festivities and Hairy Eastern European Men Who Don't Bathe.
People like that deserve to be told nicely by a security person to please leave or they will bring out the tasers like they did to some kid at my school in the hallway it was SO COOL.
The end.
I hope this entry has given you a complete and totol understanding of why I have gone to NASCAR races for so many years and still continue to do so even though I haven't watched a NASCAR race on TV since the last time I watch a NASCAR race on TV which was a long time ago, maybe the amount of time it would take to read this entry if you read really slowly and had a heart attack in the middle of it, and all the positive things that happen at these events in the towns they transpire in.
