“Boogity boogity boogity! Lets go racing boys!”
NASCAR is a motorsport in which cars loosely resembling what they're named after drive lap after lap after fucking lap around an oval.
NASCAR is the second greatest family bloodsport entertainment in the history of the world, after the Roman gladiatorial games. Hillbillies and rednecks often drive a thousand miles just to watch other hillbillies and rednecks drive 500 miles in a circle for three hours, praying for somebody to wreck.
The name NASCAR is an acronym based on the Florida state motto: Never Advance Self Comfort; Always Regret.
The official rules of NASCAR racing were laid down by Bill Clinton's successor and daughter, Miley Cyrus. At first she insisted that there be one simple rule: WRECK THE FUCK out of everybody, then start a fist fight about it later. However, most people thought it was too dangerous. So here are the five basic rules. For some reason Bill is still working on it, and over 1,000 people have died in races sanctioned under said rules.
- Green flag means go.
- Yellow flag means danger, not caution.
- Red flag means that blood has been drawn.
- Black flag means racist remarks deemed appropriate.
- Blue flag means turn left.
Caution laps are called for debris on the track. Debris on the track typically includes but is not limited to hot dog wrappers, Skoal bandits pouches, corpses, banana peels, blue shells, and portals to alternate dimensions.
Drivers are prohibited from leaving the car for anything. And we mean anything. If you gotta go to the bathroom well you should have thought about that before getting in the car.
Each car needs a window net and advanced aerodynamics, including a spoiler for higher altitudes when the car gets turned and goes airborne (blowover). The driver must wear a polyethylene helmet and polyester suit. Each car is sponsored by multiple sponsors, such as Skittles, Budweiser, Coca-Cola (sponsor of the Coca-Cola 600), Amabell MacLarson & Co., and others. Many consider it cars advertising while driving in a
“I'd like to thank my team, my pit crew, Walmart, Target, 7-11, Viagra, Bank of America, Cintas, Coors Light, Craftsman Tools, Diageo, DIRECTV, DRIVE4COPD, DuPont, Exide, cancer Growth Energy, Gillette, Goodyear, Head & Shoulders, Mars, Mobil 1, Nabisco, Nationwide, Office Depot, Old Spice, O'Reilly's, SIRIUS XM Radio, Sprint, Sunoco, Unilever, UPS, Visa, K & N, Toyota, Pepsi, eBay, FedEx, Sunoco fuel, Satan, Another Castle®, your mom, and SpaceX for helping me get to the front after that long 500 mile race. Can't wait till next weekend, as there's a road course, and it involves a right turn...WHAT!!! OH MY GOD!!! I CANT TURN RIGHT!!!”
The doors don't work on stock cars. Drivers have to go in through the window. This is not, as you might suspect, because of some stupid mistake. It's really because the people who build the cars are huge The Dukes of Hazard fans, and they are constantly striving toward that pinnacle of automotive excellence, the General Lee. The doors on the General Lee did not open, because of some stupid mistake.
The top tier of NASCAR racing is the prestigious Monster Energy NASCAR Cup. Here, the cars are max tuned for the Wangan line in Japan. The Sprint Cup is followed by the Xfinity Series for amateurs.The races are about half as long, though considered most exciting by many NASCAR racing fans. Finally, there is the Camping World Truck Series for those who appreciate trucking more than NASCAR.
Before each race, an ordained Christian Protestant minister will perform an invocation, thanking Jesus Christ for America and NASCAR and blaming Satan for soccer and foreigners.
After that, the National Anthem is performed by the most country of music stars with the most impossible southern drawls. Often, the performance is just a banjo and the howls of dogs. After the song everyone fires their pistols into the air in celebration.
This is followed by a flyover by the Air Force Thunderbirds, the most flamboyant of the all-gay fighter jet squadrons.
Then "the most famous words in motorsports": Male drivers with penises, start your engines.
NASCAR is all about the drivers, not the cars. NASCAR drivers are some of the worst assholes in the world. To the "fans", crashes are more about karma than spectacle. When a car shatters against the wall, the crowd chants, "Mighty Zeus, we offer this man to you not as a sacrifice, but as justice. He met a just end, may he diminish the world no longer."
NASCAR drivers are required (by federal law) to be named "Junior." Last year's Sprint Cup winner was Jacob Johnny Junior Jesus Joe Jeff Jr. III. Runner ups included Kyle Junior, Dale Junior, Bob Junior, Anon Junior, Peter Griffin Junior, and Jerry Springer Jr.
Despite the fans' moral clarity, NASCAR still insists on emphasizing safety. Drivers must be "reasonably sober" at the start of every event. Head restraints are required for all drivers, and wheel spikes and explosives are strangely discouraged.
Emergency medical personal are on hand at every event to assist drivers according to the sacred motto "just pretend their lives are worth saving."
There's a lot of not-racing in NASCAR.
They don't drive when it's raining. They don't drive if there's a water bottle on the track. Heaven forbid a plastic bag should float by. Everything has to be perfect.
How do the drivers even get to the tracks in the morning? What if a light drizzel were to start coming down on the drive in? They can't drive in that! Oh, no, there's trash on the road! Oh, no, a pothole! Oh, no, a kid on a bicycle! Well no race today.
A big part of racing is the pit-strategy. I shouldn't have said "big part", it's really more of a medium part. Basically, if you run out of gas before the end of the race, people will make fun of you. So you don't want to run out of gas. You have to pit to put the gas in. And you want to do that before you run out. There's also something about tires. But seriously, you don't want to ever run out of fuel.
After the race, drivers throw their helmets at each other in anger.
If you ask any NASCAR fan about how the sport was started, they will tell you all about how people used to drive fast smuggling moonshine across the state lines, evading the cops, and blah, blah, blah.
Please, for the love of God, do NOT ask a NASCAR fan about how it was started.
Anyway, none of that moonshine talk has any factual basis. Everyone who is connected with NASCAR, both now and in the past, are sober, serious, innocent teetotallers. Those who claim otherwise are goddamn fucking liars. Let's see them say that to my face. To My Face! I'm ready to settle this _right now_.
NASCAR was invented 1285 B.C. by the unborn spirit of baby Thomas Edison.
God spoke to him in limbo, the abode of unborn spirits. He said, "Unborn spirit baby, Edison, I have a task that only you can fulfil. One day I will create a mighty race of people called 'Catholics.' But never mind that for now. Later I will make other people called 'Protestants.' They will need something to entertain them."
The spirit replied, "I've been waiting for this chance my whole life, which hasn't started yet, minus three thousand years, give or take." The clouds parted, and a stock car came down from heaven, and lighted upon the ground.
God spoke, "You have done well, Thom. May I call you Thom? Thomas then. You have done well. However, that vehicle has headlights on it. I want no lights on the conveyance."
Edison replied, "But surly, Lord, these lights will be awesome. They work with direct current electricity!"
God replied, "I said no lights! Use decals instead. Put decals on it, because it wouldn't look right without something there. But no lights."
The first NASCAR races were held in ancient Greece, using horses instead of cars. The races were much like today's, except the pit times were atrocious. It would sometimes take a full hour to change all four horseshoes. Because of that, it was pretty common to take right-sides only in the early part of the races.
A Woman Driver!
In the early 21st century NASCAR was about to go bankrupt, but it was saved at the last minute by adding a female driver, Danica Patrick. She was so hot, she single-handedly turned most of the other drivers straight, except, obviously, Juan Pablo Montoya who was Spanish.
During the actual races, Patrick wears a large helmet and a nomex racing suit, just like the other drivers. Consequently, the creepy and disgusting fans who think the driver's sex is a big deal have to concentrate to remember that there's an actual female under all that stuff. But it's totally worth it to watch her manipulate the gear shifter with her thick racing gloves.
By that I mean, it's great to see a woman expertly drive a manual transmission.
Not that that's a big deal or anything. I mean chicks do all kinds of manly stuff sometimes. I mean... You know what I mean.
Anyway, fielding Patrick was a risky move for NASCAR. It was expensive to bring a ladies port-a-john to every track, and to modify a single pit box so she wouldn't have to parallel park like her male colleagues. However, much of this additional expense is offset by the fact that Patrick only gets seventy-three cents for every dollar that the other drivers are awarded, in keeping with national labor standards.
In the end, the risk was totally worth it, because NASCAR is solvent again, thanks to Danica Patrick.
Recently there has been talk of allowing sponsors to put their logos directly on the vehicles. Most, however, believe this controversial idea will never see the light of day. Commercial interests, they say, would ruin the purity of the sport.
Racing has never been about the money.
The race tracks are smooth oval tracks with high-banked walls. If this were a video game, it would be difficulty setting one.
Often construction at the speedways turns the races into frustrating stop-and-go traffic, as the cars slowly negotiate a long line of orange cones for hours and hours.
On those occasions when there is no construction at the track, drivers still have to slow down around turn three, because of that cop sitting there. He's just sitting there. Jeff Gordon doesn't need another speeding ticket. Especially not in Daytona. Jesus, Florida, you know what I mean? These cops got a quota to fill. Gordon thinks he's in goddamn Indianapolis. Would you drive like that with kids in the car? Would you? Well maybe there's kids in that other car. The one with all the M&M's on it. Did you stop to think about that? Are you even thinking about anybody but yourself? OK, I'm gonna let you off with a warning this time, but try to take it easy out there.
And remember, fines double in work zones. Respect those orange cones.
At certain racetracks, cars must have a plate over the engine that reduces the power of each car. This is because NASCAR fans want cars to be fast — but not that fast. With restrictor plates, NASCAR follows the strategy of American football, which popularizes a violent sport between angry men shot up with painkillers, but has changed the rulebook to penalize excessive physicality, illegal pharmaceutical enhancements, and unkind words.
As NASCAR is a sport based on urban motoring, the restrictor plate is an analog to the victimless crimes motorists face, such as undergoing annual car inspection and getting failed for a spot of rust or for disabling the required safety chimes. To further base the sport on routine driving, the flagman may wave the red flag on a whim, like the policeman who pulls a car over merely because the driver looks suspicious, say a pretty woman in a party dress, or a Negro who doesn't look like he belongs in this neighborhood.
Driving around in deliberately crippled race cars, while the pit mechanics try to outwit the mandated devices as though they were Volkswagen gaming an emissions test, spurs endless fan discussions and increases interest in the sport, especially as NASCAR has verified that cars with restrictor plates can still undergo horrific, fatal crashes producing leaping flames and projecting loose car parts into the grandstand.