OK..so...like...I've been working like a sled dog all week and I've gotten SOME beauty rest.
Watching pole day from the couch really blew, but going to the track yesterday would not have been good for anybody. I was tired and cranky, and I would not have been pleasant to be around, so I just Tweeted some insulting crap on Twatter, scratched myself, and made plans for Bump Day.
Yes. I'm going to be track-side today for Bump Day. I will be in better spirits. Maybe.
The beer is iced down. No Molsons or Labatts, though. PT will have to suffice with American beer, sorta, and I'm not buying any cigars. If PT doesn't make the field, I'm not going to contact his handlers because I don't want to deal with an attitudinal Indy racin' legend.
Anyhoo..if you see me, say hi or something and don't take any spy pictures of my fetid ugliness.
Sorry for the short and disappointing blog thang, but I told you people it would suck this year.
Maybe next time you will listen to me .