What does she do again? Oh wait. I don't give a crap!
Seriously. What does she do? Isn't she one of those teacher-banged-a-boys?
Here’s the rest of Danica’s photoshoot.
Dear NASCAR,
Hi. We’ve never talked before, but I thought I’d drop you a line. I find your quasi-sport tedious, staggeringly lowbrow and ultimately boring. I know, I know. I’m a Southern male heterosexual of middle class descent and I’m supposed to like you. Well, I don’t. And I never will. Well, I hate to use the term “never”, since there is an exception. Just drop the pretenses of supposed respectability (as if something so dizzyingly common as NASCAWR is) and do what Ms. Patrick (above) has done: Become a semi-nude circus act.
Hear me out. If NASCAR was composed of chesty women drivers who drove around in circles for four hours in transparent vehicles and exponentially lost their clothes as the race progressed (can you think of how awesome the cockpit camera shots would be!), surely you would not only hold on to the vast majority of you current fans, but would pull in the people who should watch, but do not. Now, surely there are enough labor-weary grease gibbons throughout the rural South and Midwest that due to either substance abuse, genetics, or alien anal trauma have come up short in the raising-your-daughter-not-
Leanne Camshaft! She likes pleasin' men-folk, starving herself and performing acrobatic sexual acts, most of which are illegal in her homestate!
to-be-a-stripper department and long in the my-daughter-has-giant-knockers-yet-access-to-orthodontics to provide enough buxom drivers, pit crews and commentators with little to no morals to immediately fire the alcoholic, craggy-faced, tickfaw shock N AWERs currently employed in your service.
The numbers on the cars of course would be corresponding to fans texting in who was hottest that week. For instance, Chesty Dipstick could be firmly (huh-huh) in the top five points winners, yet a misadvised nipple piercing or a black eye could drop her down considerably, yet the addition of baby oil or lip collagen (whatever Brett Michaels’s of the world like best…again, voted on by texting) could knock her up (huh-huh) to a sure-fire winner.
Football, baseball, and basketball would all wither away and you would wield ultimate control over all of us, instead of just the meth addicts of the world like you do currently.
I’m waiting on my royalty checks. YOU’RE WELCOME!
Sincerely,
Angry
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