Paddock Pulse Splash
I've got nothin' but links for you this week. Usually, I strive to make the Pulse intro into the biggest trainwreck of the week in the IndyCar socialmediasphere (You like that? I'm thinking of trademarking it.), but damned if the drivers didn't upstage me on Monday with their version of the Jerry Springer Show on Twitter. The sheer awesomness of their FAIL sapped my will to live. Or, at least, to make an ass of myself.
I'll have to go back to the drawing board and try to generate some new self-incriminating snark. But for now... ahhhh, some wounds are too deep to bounce back from immediately, man. What becomes of the broken-hearted?
Jump ahead for the links...
Frenetic Friday -- George Snider Edition [15 Days in May]
Fast fact about George Snider - he's from Fresno, one of the most awesomely named cities in the entire world, second only to Poughkeepsie if you ask me. In fact, someday I'm going to start a band called "Fresno and Poughkeepsie." Oh, wait. That's not a good idea. The acronym could get me banned in some Bible Belt cities. DAMMIT.
No More Mutoh: A Look Back [IndyCar Advocate]
Ah, Hideki Mutoh... we hardly knew ye. No, seriously, we hardly knew ye. You never filled out that Vogue magazine profile that we sent you and you politely declined our invitation to sing your personal history on stage backed by Toad the Wet Sprocket. THAT, friends, is the sign of a very private personality.
Advertising for IndyCar Nation 101: Lesson 1 [JP's Indycar Blog]
This is actually some pretty good, informed stuff from ol' JP. But, for future reference, I should point out to JP the basics of "Blog Rebuttal 101." Lesson 1: Post a three-sentence flame of the other blogger that includes the words "coccyx," "defibrillator," and "bile," then look up the blogger's address on Google and fly out to his house and strike him in the ballsack with a metal stanchion. That one was free - additional lessons can be had at a low, low introductory rate. CALL ME FOR DETAILS!
INDYCAR makes right choice leaving TRM behind [More Front Wing]
This article was written by that secretive, unknown writer named "More Front Wing Staff." NO REAL NAME? COWARD! Come out and take your lumps like a man! (Or woman!) And by lumps, I mean medicine. And by medicine, I mean Mucinex, because that stuff is great for phlegmy colds. Honestly, only a couple of doses and I was dried out like a piece of beef jerky. Hmm. I seem to have lost my train of thought. Oh well.
When Is It Time To Let Go? [Oilpressure]
Ohhhhh, man. Ohhhhh, man. George, my friend, you're about to get your poutine handed to you in a sack full of PAIN, my friend. I can already see Meesh putting her PT-embossed brass knuckles on and booking a flight to your house. My advice? HIDE, dude. Because this lady will behead you with a rear wing endplate like a friggin' NINJA if you so much as hint at Paul Tracy retiring.
The Numbers Game [Open Wheel America]
Perhaps I am being a bit immature, but there's no way I'd ever say I'm hoping for number 1 or number 2 in the paddock, particularly if kids are being allowed in now. I'm just not a fan of pee or poo jokes. Although you could make a pretty amazingly lousy pun about how the fight for the champion's number 1 can turn into a real pissing contest. *RIMSHOT* *GUNSHOT*
Write to Randy: "Please Replace Motegi with an Oval" [pressdog.com]
I guess there's some sort of 50-50 balance between road/street courses and oval tracks that needs to be maintained, else something really terrible is going to happen to IndyCar. Like Gene Simmons writing another song ("I Love the Brick... YARD!" Bow-chicka-wow.). Or the reintroduction of the Falcon chassis. Or possibly Brian Barnhart turning the sport into slot car racing. Anyway, I guess it's bad for SOME reason.
Born And Bred [SPEED/Marshall Pruett]
Fun fact: I once interviewed Joey Hand back when he was with DSTP Motorsports in Atlantics. It was to be the first of a long series of articles featuring celebrities with body-part names. My next targets were Katherine Legge, Adam Foote, Murray Head, and Andy Dick. Sadly, I never got around to it because I came upon the name "Grant Clitsome" and nearly had an apoplectic laugh attack and my doctor told me to stop.
In Case You Aren't On Twitter [One Lap Down]
IndyCar Nation played the role of Amtrak and went way off the rails on Twitter this week. If you're interested in reading the sordid details, Nooch has 'em. Personally, I can't decide which was a more embarrassing event - this Twitter war, or Justin Bieber coming out with a biographical movie. I think maybe it's the latter, because some people just have no shame.
Driver Tweet of the Week
@RyanBriscoe6: Ur the 1 taking our damn cat to Daytona!!! :)
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.