as told to (your name here)

I am a pizza

So I'm a deadbeat blogger. Sue me.

I had a date with MidWestFarmer'sDaughter. It went terribly. It didn't start out bad, but it sure ended bad. Not she-threw-her-drink-in-my-face bad or I-had-the-stage-fright bad, but bad enough that I learned something. Yes, that's bad. Then I had two dates with tattoo-girl. Then I was supposed to go out with this latina chick, only I spent the day with tattoo-girl (she "dropped by" which kind of annoyed me, but she brought donuts so she's forgiven) so I wound up blowing off the latina. I called her the next day to apologize, but it went straight to voicemail. She sent me an email the next day saying that she changed her mind and that we weren't right for each other. I felt bad about the situation, but she was right. I wasn't really that into her.

So then I went to drive my car on a racetrack. The dealership from which I bought my G35 turned out (unbeknownst to me) to be one of the biggest Infiniti dealers in the country. The owner of that dealership has a professional racing team, with a souped-up G35 and a professional driver. A couple of times a year he invites his customers up to a racetrack near Fort Worth to learn just what their cars can do. Apart from the 5 hour drive up there and a hotel room, it was totally free to race MY car on a track. It was awesome, but I got lice from the helmet.

posted by tinyhands @ 11:59 PM