IS IT OVER?

IS THIS THE LAST WE HEAR FROM OUR HEROES? WILL THE BE ANY MORE FROM POUND MY BLOG? TUNE IN NEXT WEEK KIDS.....

Freality

After screaming through the Samsung 500 at the Texas Motor Speedway and the Subway Fresh Fit 500 at the Phoenix International Raceway, #9 Lance Mantis remains #1 in the fantasy NASCAR league, with The Duke of Padukah fast approaching!!

Readers often ask me why I care so much about my fantasy dominance when I so thoroughly dominate "real" racing. I ask them to consider reality as fantasy and fantasy as reality.

Fantasy as reality: A leprechaun, the Blessed Virgin Mary, or the "extraterrestrial" that hovers over my race car...angels, demons...dragons...as real as anything else, but undetected?

Reality as fantasy: Think of what you consider "real"...how confident do you feel in it's realness? Consider everything you sense and perceive as the result or "output" of the processing that occurs in your brain, nervous system, etc...one continuous and highly sophisticated projection? Like life as a lifelong movie?

I recommend easing off of the fantasy/reality dichotomy and consider them as one sometimes...don't mentally separate them so rigidly as you would, say, mentally separate me from the rest of the field in any race no matter when or where, like this weekend's Aaron's 499 at the Talladega Superspeedway!

Murder at Mantisville

The Mantisville Speedway (aka "The Paperclip"), the shortest track in NASCAR's Sprint Cup Series (0.526 miles), with only 12 degrees of banking on the curves, takes a heavy toll on brakes, tires, and ANYONE WHO DARES TO RACE ME.

At last Sunday's Goody's Fast Pain Relief 500 (aka "The Mantisville Massacre"), the #9 car so definitively dominated the race that the everyone left thinking Jimmy Johnson had won! Well, kudos to JJ for so deftly edging out Denny Hamlin in a heated battle for fastest loser, but by the time #48 crossed the finish line, #9 had finished his famous "48 states" victory lap.

Those who say "it's lonely at the top" haven't spent much time there. Hey, don't take it from me...ask Moose Knuckle about his vast array of fantasy stone circle death match league championships...but surely direct any such questions regarding our rock and roll romance towards me...right Loosey Moosey? We all know who's on top in that league.

Doo-Doo Flake City

Doo-doo Flake: An interesting word combo that I recently overheard. I just find it humorous. Never in my life have I pooed in the form of a flake...or flakes...nor have I seen such forms of poo in picture, print, or theater. This phenomenon must have occurred at some point, somewhere. It is my quest to find a doo-doo flake. I do imagine that if I cannot find a doo-doo flake, I could create a doo-doo flake of my own. My guess is that I would have to take a poo in my pants and then go ahead and sit right down to smash the poo all over my bottom. Then I would play the waiting game...just waiting for it to dry. Once dried, I would need to chisel the poo off of my butt cheeks...and BAM!!! DOO-DOO FLAKES for all. To speed up the process, I guess I could use a hairdryer, or just bask in the sun with my naked poo covered rear in open air.

...still...

...stillness abound, stillifus rex emerges from shell...crowd storms number nine car like the bastille...stillifus practices stilts, sharp like stiletto...crowd goes still like seeing hillbilly with gills...stillifus rex, aka bristol pete lairavich...first place in fantasy nascar league...bri-still...

...bristol motor speedway, concrete short track (0.533 miles), very steep banking...fosters breathing compatible rhythm of revving (straightaways) and relative resting (turns) of engine...kung fu ninja breathing exercises help bristol pete sync breathing with number nine car engine, enhancing guidance systems...consider structural relation between iambic pentameter and beating heart...

...celebrated checkered finish with checkered evening of stiller vile life with sirius supporters...sipping distilled space vodka with isis, talking of sun-day when we race goody's fast pain relief 500...at the mantisville speedway in ridgeway, virginia...

HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

ALERT! ALERT! My Special Little Ninja Boy has gotten out of his cage. I know you guys were wanting me to write about my exploits, but there is no fucking time when My Special Little Ninja Boy has gotten loose. We were just playing a game we like to call "Chuck Norris' fist of fury in my ass" when he knocked me the fuck out and took off. I dont know how that dumb rascal figured out how to open the front door but he is smarter than I took him for. I am scared now for the people or things he comes in contact with but him will destroy them. I remember the time Moose Knuckles came over and My Special Little Ninja Boy grabbed ahold of his uncircumsized cock and snapped it off like he was splitting a wishbone to make that very special wish. Moose Knuckles hasnt been the same since. Please is you see M.S.L.N.B do not try to grab him, just do exactly this. Say to him "Snack, Crackle, Pop" and he will stand still. Then proceed to bend over and spread you ass apart for him so he can see that red eye of yours. Dont be alarmed when he starts to breathe heavy. When he screms "Die you stinkin fuckin gook!" Count to five and when he lunges at you like a fat lady at a glory hole convention, spin around and punch him right in the face. Call me right after so I can pick him up. Please whatever you do dont offer him anything to eat, or he will rape your children. That little bastard has done that too many times. I will end this with a quick quote from Thomas Jefferson.....Why dont you little colored ladies come and sign the Constitution with my magic spitting skin pencil.

At long last I have found thee....Lance Mantis! My arch-enemy turned homosexual romance turned arch-enemy turned heterosexual romance and again arch-enemy! I bet you think you got the best of me! You left me there in that tussle with Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman and the Yetti! Well I got news for you.... I will go down with this ship.. I won't put my flag up or surrender... There will be no white flag upon door! You know the rest! Back to the Yetti and Dr. Quinn... Basically I choked The Yetti and put Quinn's face through a fish fillet slicer. You may think the picture to the left were made from the Yetti.... You would be wrong! Those are shoes I made from Dr. Quinn's feet!