Ode to Ricky Bobby

I've done allot of different jobs in my working life. Occasionally, someone will ask me, "Is there any job you haven't done?" I am always surprised by this question. Obviously I haven't done everything. I have never been a race car driver.

I think racing would suit me. It's not too complicated and that is a plus. I believe I am coordinated enough to drive a car. I mean come on, it's not typing. I like the cool racing suit, just wearing that would be exciting.

I went to my auto mechanic to get my car tuned up. I spent a small fortune making sure it was road ready. When I was paying the bill, the mechanic said proudly, "It's a RACE CAR now!"...Really? I immediatly went home and told my wife I was going to Alabama. "I am going to enter the Talledega 500." I told her. She rolled her eyes and said "Okay honey, I'll see you next week."

I have to say I am very disappointed in my auto mechanic. I arrived at the Speedway ready to enter and was promptly told to leave or they would call the police. It seems that I have been mislead and my gold Honda Civic was not a race car at all. That's okay, while driving back home to Colorado, I pretended I was in a RACE! I was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as I maneuvered through traffic. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins.

Everything was fine until I saw a 1972 Ford Pinto in the fast lane passing a line of cars on the right. It was smoking and the side mirror was hanging by a thread. I don't know how it was possible that it was going 90mph. A thought crossed my mind that whoever was driving that car was mentally impaired. Now it was dangerous. We were moving fast. With my cat like reflexes, I tapped my breaks to slow down. Pure reflexive genius in action.

I tried to be a race car driver and I was turned away. Perhaps my destiny is yet to reveal itself. I still have to say that Auto racing is a job I have not had.

She told me it was unisex.

Last week I went shopping for a shirt. I had some functions to attend that required me to look my best and a new shirt would help. I don't like to browse and try on clothes when I shop. I want to get it over with as soon as possible and be on my way.

I walked into a clothing store and was greeted by a salesperson. "May I help you?" she inquired. "I am looking for a shirt." I blandly replied. She side stepped and produced a shirt seemingly as if she knew what I wanted all along. She held up the shirt and said, "I've got the shirt for you right here. It is the newest thing in fashion and what is really great is that it is unisex."

She handed me the shirt to examine. Oh it is lovely I thought. The fabric is incredibly soft and it is shiny. I like shiny things. "I don't know." I said holding the shirt up. I noticed that the shirt was my size. "I think you will look great in this shirt." the sales lady said. You know what, I believed her. I decided to try it on. It had an unusual cut to the material, it fit great and I noticed I looked slimmer in the mirror. The sales lady must have been one shirt away from a huge commission because she gushed all over about how good I looked. She was a true professional. I purchased the shirt.

Have you ever noticed when you buy a new car, you suddenly see that type of car everywhere? That is what I experienced with my new shirt, except I didn't see this shirt on one man, only very fashionably dressed women. Hmmmmm I wondered why my wife asked me why I was wearing her clothes. I wondered why the gay guy at work suddenly decided to hit on me. He told me exactly what he wanted to do to me. I was flattered.
I guess the unisex part of this style of shirt hasn't caught on yet. Wow I am on the front lines of a new trend. I'm glad too, because the shirt really makes me look good.

When the Saints come marchin' in...

It is Mardis Gras season in New Orleans. Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulette! Especially this year when the Saints defeat the Colts tommorow. The party will be more than the usual madness and decadence. There will be an optimistic vibration resonating strongly with the celebration, the Big Easy way.

I think I should invest in some Superbowl Champion Beads with the Saints logo all over them, then take a road trip to New Orleans! Hoo yeah cher! The party will be off the hook. Millions of people will cram into the French Quarter to watch parades, drink excessively and reveal body parts usually left to imagination.

It brings me back to my first Mardis Gras celebration in the Big Easy. Along time ago when I was fourteen years old. I hitched a ride with a couple, ten years older than myself, but we hung out allot. My parents didn't have I clue I was there because they would not have let me go.

Someone threw me a beer from a balcony on Bourbon Street and the party began in earnest. I learned quickly that I could exchange beads for women exposing their titties. 'Wow' I remembered thinking 'I wish everyday could be Fat Tuesday'. I got really competent negotiating women to flash me for the sheer excitement of being naughty. I had run out of beads in about ten minutes.

"Show me your tits." "No" came an immediate reply. I asked her "If we were in a serious relationship you would show me, wouldn't you?" She thought for a moment then smiled and said "Of course." "I love you." I said back to her. She grinned big and pulled both breasts out and rubbed them on me. I had reached a new level in my life and there was no turning back.

Yes the Mardis Gras celebration is all about the good natured drunken nakedness for me. Yes I have earned allot of beads just to give them back. This year...when the Saints come marching in, oh Lord I want to be in that number. Who Dat? You know who it is. It is the New Orleans Saints and they are number one this year, GEAUX SAINTS!