Gordon, NASCAR's 'wonder boy,' was furious at Brad Keselowski for causing a crash at the end of Sunday's AAA Texas 500 that left Gordon finishing in 29th place.
By the end, Keselowski was left spitting blood and Gordon had a cut on his lip.
Monday, November 3, 2014
'Jeff Gordon slugs NASCAR's new bad boy... at Texas Motor Speedway'
"Jeff Gordon has slugged NASCAR's new bad boy in a pit lane brawl at Texas Motor Speedway after a little contact on the race track led to a whole lot of contact when the drivers got out of their cars."
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8 comments:
Gives "road rage" a whole new meaning.
(1) A quick internet search informs me that Brad Keselowski has never been on a box of breakfast cereal.
(2) Henceforth, I shall never think of Jeff Gordon without thinking of Kellogg's Frosted Mini-Wheats.
I didn't now about the tradition of the winner firing pistols in the air, cowboy movie-style. Yee-Ha!!!
They used to take a good slug of champagne and then spray the crowd in Formula One. Maybe they still do.
In any event, given that America wants its own traditions, I see a motor racing marketing opportunity for some daring craft brewery, Rogue perhaps. Fitting, if painfully obvious.
I should hasten to add that Rogue is good beer. I'll drink it but I won't spend my own money on it. Too homo.
Rogue Ale needs an artist who can draw hands.
Drawing hands is like an etude.
As a youngster, I drew my own hands continuously. At the time I thought, gee, I should save these to catalog my aging hands, but I knew all along that it wasn't possible to keep them.
The NASCAR fight is a disappointment. All I saw was a shove. Like a lady shove.
But, Man, NASCAR sure is huge. I did not realize how huge. My female cousin is the only NASCAR fan that I know personally. And she is quite odd in many ways.
One time she and James were in the back seat of my car. When I drove past a scary looking Husky dog with those strange blue eyes I said, "This house is on a route that I walk every day. That scary looking dog is actually nice. You expect it to bark at you but it doesn't."
She cracked up laughing.
But there was nothing funny about what I said. Was she laughing at the way I said it?
I asked, "What is so funny?"
She, (they) just looked straight at me dumbly but would not, could not answer what it was they found so goddamn funny. It pissed me off. Both of them did. Lastingly. I still have no idea what's in that dumb shit's mind. I don't like her anymore.
I spaced the link
Rogue Ale's bad hands.
(1) "Rogue" is something you get called by somebody else. You call yourself a rogue, you're a homo.
If anybody likes Rogue beer because it makes them feel all manly, like a rogue, . . . well . . . that's just sad beyond words.
(2) Even though I have corrected his pronunciation several times, my brother-in-law still calls it "rouge."
That's the makeup women put on their cheeks.
And that's not helping any.
Speaking of beer and poorly drawn hands . . . LINK.
I know it's supposed to be one of those meta-neo-ironic-counter-postmodern kind of things, but still.
Didn't everybody get tired of that style of cartoon stuff back in the 80s?
Tired Hands calls its beer "strange and beautiful." I've been there. The beer is good. Very good. But one can put up with only so much hype.
It's an ad copy world, I suppose.
But still, we Hobbits prefer our beer subculture more down to Middle Earth.
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