Well it looks like I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
It really doesn’t even matter if I dig her out or not since the streets are still a bit unappeasable.
Sometimes good satire is too truthful.
So with mom stuck hobbling around the house after knee surgery dad and I headed out to check out a pawn shop in Myrtle Beach when we found a random car show and of course had to bust a U. After joking that I’d probably not see a single foreign car my dad brilliantly jokes he’d find more rebel flags and thus started the game of rebel flags vs foreign cars. In the end it was 3-3. Not bad, I thought there’d be a lot less foreign cars.
I assumed this reads “Hey Ferrari kick out that bum Massa and sign this guy!” Which as of this morning apparently only McLaren could read.
It must be nice to live in a country where people actually like F1. The downside was since I was working during the race I was recoding it at home, but had to avoid looking at any TV in the hotel lobby we meet up in that morning since it was playing everywhere. I also had to avoid looking at the huge TV in the bar we went to that night since they where showing the replay there. In the U.S. recording and not seeing the results of a race are as simple as not demanding someone change the channel to the race, and avoiding F1 sites for a day or two.
Still avoiding the race in Mexico was not as bad as that one last year in Bangkok that was halfway done when we walked in, and playing on dozens of sets all behind the girls at the go-go club. Do you know how fucking hard it is to not look up from your table for an hour at a go-go club in bangkok?! The one girl without a TV behind her must have thought I was really in to her, when in fact she was just the default.