Well, the cars sound like sewing machines, but man do they fly around the track. Pit stops are borderline insane, too.
F1 drivers get all sorts of hot girlfriends, it’s true, and tons of money, and adrenaline rushes out the wazoo, of course, but they’re all going to have to live with the knowledge that not one of them could beat me home from work on Friday afternoon.
Oh, sure, you’re Mr. Cool at the gas station. You don’t pull up to the pumps on the wrong side. I bet when you use the squeegee, you get just the right angle and don’t leave that little stripe of grime on the overlaps. You pause after the auto shutoff for a few seconds so the nozzle won’t drip gasoline on your tasseled loafers, too. You wipe your hands with the little blue towelettes they have on the canopy stanchions, I bet. Those are for girls, you know.
And then there’s this guy.
Ah, Pee Wee hockey.
You know, if you always wanted an ant farm, but your mother wouldn’t let you have one because of that unfortunate series of incidents you had with the pet turtles, you can get your ant farm fix by going to a pee wee hockey game and sitting as far up in the bleachers as you can get.
Here’s to you two, you two epic ping pong dudes. You are all that’s right with the world and wrong with sports all wrapped up in one amazing package. I’d say that this was like a Globetrotters/Generals match, but I can’t tell which one is throwing the game. What if the Globetrotters played the Globetrotters? Yeah, it would totally be like this, only without the buckets of glitter thrown at the audience.