Normally on some Tuesdays we around here on Pop Off Valve get creative and speak of IndyCar in Haiku. This Tuesday is a bit different. This Tuesday is Valentine's Day. Seventeen-syllable verses simply will not do on this day. Yo Xzibit, tell them what to expect!
Xzibit: "YO DAWG! I HEARD YOU LIKED POETRY AND IT'S VALENTINES DAY, SO WE MADE YOU A BLOG POST BY PUTTING VALENTINE'S DAY POETRY IN YO VALENTINE'S DAY BLOG POST IN YO INDYCAR BLOG!!!"
Yep, today we'll go over-the-top with the sappiness and romanticism with old-school, epic, full-frontal (easy, big boy) POETRY. OH NO HE DIDN'T!!! HE'S DOING WHAT?!?! I mean come on, this IS Valentine's Day; the day proper poetry was (probably) invented for. Or something. Women LOVE guys who have a way with words (example: Rockstar douchecanoe or not, somebody dated Axl Rose for f**ks sake).
Also of course the subject matter is simply the women of IndyCar. What, you thought I was going to wax poetic about Graham Rahal's waxing of his man region??? Of course this one's to the ladies, and restraining orders be damned. Also I'm not just singling out my personal favorite lady of the paddock, but will be including ALL of the ladies of the IndyCar garage and beyond in my short poems (I'm not THAT GOOD, so small ones will have to do).
This can only end well...but most likely in a restraining order or two.
(Sappy poetry after the jump. Oh God, what have I done...)
Requiem for a Swiss Maiden
In Switzerland auto racing is banned
There are no racing tracks in the land
Yet racing drivers they still produce
One named Simona, yes a young lady
Despite severe burns qualified at Indy
She's faster and tougher than you
Is she good looking? Absolutely
Easy on the eyes and a great personality
Sure beats having to look at and hear Tony Stewart
At Least It's Not Him
Some might say my fandom of Simona is obsessive
You tell me and I won't be all that dismissive
But really would I rather like more, which driver
Who, Helio naked while swinging on a tire?
Enter the Dragon
A lady named Katherine
The other driver is Seabass
Not about to stare at his ass
Stop with the drooling, nit wit
Lotus actually hired a true Brit
For Queen and Country, Lady Kathy
Pilot that English Judd-built engine very quickly
What a Real Girl Really Wants
Flooding my twitter stream with a bunch of tweets
About insomnia, shoes, yet not fitting racing seats
Your 2012 ride is somewhere out there Pippster
Thought it seems your luck is somewhere in the dumpster
At least Himself put a rock on your finger
The kind of rock that means love will linger
So I guess life for you Pippa isn't all that ho-hum
Now, about those assholes that post about you on Trackforum...
Aren't We Missing Somebody?
Something vexes me this 2012 Silly Season
Ana Beatriz as of now doesn't have a ride
What? Her rideless? This dude does not abide
The nation of Brazil demands its Bia
Hey KV Racing, hire her with TK and Rubens for "Brazil's Greatest Hits"
Wait, but I don't see how Viso will fit in with all this
If it doesn't work out, you will be missed Ana
In the next month if you don't get the call,
Maybe fund a 500 ride by selling a certain trophy Les Paul?
IndyCar Without LindyCar Is Really Bizarre
What is NBC Sports thinking
Their decision is confusing
Lindy Thackston not coming back next year
Is something we didn't want to hear
No more LindyCar? No more Thack Attack?
Yet Robin Miller is coming back?
A pretty face isn't a keeper? That's nuts
Yet Robin stays, pudgy eater of Long's doughnuts?
Cheer up, Lindy of Indy
Don't take the firing seriously
Talent like you doesn't always go to waste
Even when it seems bosses inhale paste
The Man-killing Ponytail
Busy rocking the faces
Of each and every male
The icon of ABC broadcasted races
Jamie Little's lovely iconic look
It doubles as a deadly weapon
A turn of a head is all it took
To destroy Kurt Busch's ugly noggin
To The Hilt
Queen of Twitter and PR
In the realm of IndyCar
Monica Hilton has gone quite far
From humble blogging beginnings
Who better at relating to the fan
I doubt no one else really can
Because of her I met Simona, man!
Tag's wife is out of the question, I suppose
Yep, my sad display is over
Some lyrical Casanova I am
Unlike Haiku Tuesday, this is way harder
I now need to lay low, man
If she hears about this
I must lay low my head
My girlfriend will be pissed
And I will certainly be DEAD
On that note, it's time to re-register my Man Card after this "event".
*regains Man Card by downing 7 Baconators and a bottle of Wild Turkey, while singing Slayer's "Seasons in the Abyss" while naked around a campfire in 20 degree temps*