This is what I had for lunch today trackside.
I haven't consumed one in over two years.
It is a Hoosier legend.
It is a breaded, tenderized, deep-fried pig rectum.
It was scrumptious.
Mayor Bloomberg weeps reservoirs of tears and is considering unconstitutional legislation to protect me from my erroneous and horrific eating habits.
Fuck you, Mikey.
This is France's Sebastien Bourdai engaging in dangerous horseplay at the Speedway.
His vehicle, which is chromed out like a '68 Cadillac Eldorado pimp-mobile, was designed for only one rider...not two.
Apparently, Seabass has forgotten who he works for.
His boss is Jay Penske, whose dad is Roger Penske, a guy who tolerates no nonsense and is owner/operator of Teamster Penske.
Yes. This relationship is close and tidy and convenient and reeks of nepotism.
Regardless, it would behoove Seabass to adhere to all rules and regulations or he might wake up with a case of wobbly knee.
Here is Dario Franchitti's sled being operated in an imprudent manner.
Note how the malingering crew dude is slothfully hanging off the side pod without a safety harness while he steers this racing unit through the paddock.
He could easily lose control and cause untold carnage and property damage and be forced by Chip Ganassi to fill out multiple incident reports and make Dario fume with rage.
Thing is...Dario doesn't need this shit right about now.
See...Dario kicked his famous actress wife, Ashley Judd, to the curb and I bet he's stressing something awful.
She didn't wanna "breed" but he wanted to have kids with her because he is a hawt sexy macho virile European/Scottish/Italian dude with raging testosterone levels and he has needs.
Meanwhile, Ashley is kinda weird and flaky but sorta fun to be around in small doses and was giving some thought to running for political office in her home state of Kentucky instead of breeding with Dario and she figured being a mom would be a hassle when being governor would be more cooler.
Then, Ashley got clued in to the fact that the citizens of the Commonwealth of Kentucky are pretty smart people and that they have a lot of common sense and that there was no way in hell she would be voted in as governor unless Obama-like electoral tomfoolery took place.
Unfortunately for Ashley, by that time it was too fucking late and Dario had had quite enough of her bullshit and had already shit-canned her crazy ass.
On top of all this crap, Dario has the added stress of possibly being the next 4-time Indy 500 winner, while at the same time many mooks on the intardnets are saying that damn near all of his previous Indy wins were tarnished in one way or another because of rain or tornadoes or yellow flags being illuminated right at the very end of the races.
Now...I don't believe any of Dario's Indy wins were tarnished, but I do believe that if this shit keeps up, Dario's is gonna need a sedative or some other kinda pharmaceutical to keep the anxiety down or to keep him from snapping like a dry twig.
He could maybe ask AJ Humdinger what he recommends.
Then again, maybe not.
Here is Scott Dixon's rig with another Target/Ganassi employee acting a fool with the equipment.
I don't have anything smart to say about Dixon...yet...but, it seems to me that maybe Chip needs a new safety director, because the guy they got in that position now ain't worth a fuck and is asleep at the switch.
I know one thing for sure.
If I'm stumbling through the garage area and one of Ganassi's boys engages in dangerous horseplay and hits me in the process, that motherfucker better hope he kills me because if he doesn't I'm gonna beat his ass.
That's what I think.
Here is something I saw today in the paddock which I had never seen before.
It is exciting and amazing and a sign of the times.
It is a hawt chick working on a fast and shiny Indy racing machine.
Ain't nuthing sexier...
Now...some of you might be saying, "Zoomie! Women can do anything a man can do. You always sexualize women. You are a pig. Please hurry up and die already!"
I would reply to you that you don't know me and to shut your man-pleaser and bring me a sammich.
What I would really say is that...yes...I appreciate pretty women...pretty women who are smart and confident and have a sense of humor and can work on an Indy car.
I find all those traits to be extremely sexy in a woman.
This next thing I saw today is evidence of love.
It is an old vintage Honda motorcycle that at one time was probably a piece of shit that somebody found in a barn or roadside ditch and then gave it a lot of love.
Whoever did the work on this bike paid attention to detail and didn't over-do things and made it look clean and under-statedly elegant.
I would give the guy (or gal) who did this bike a big hug and maybe cry with joy a little bit.
Would that make me gay?
This is a 1958 International Harvester Metro delivery van.
Back in olden times dumb-asses like me who dropped out of college because they drank too much beer and smoked too much weed had to drive one of these to make a buck instead of living large and raiding everyone else's IRAs and 401Ks.
It looks like it just rolled off the assembly line.
Somebody loved it long time, but now it is for sale.
Everything has its price, I suppose.
That is a bad reflection on somebody.