Nascar DriveThru

Cockeyed.com's Rob Cockerham, if that is his real name, has this sweet little idea he says. He describes to me a shenanigan he's dubbed the Nascar Drive Thru. Well, bein' the fool I am, I take the bait.

Cocker-Scam waits, for MONTHS, he's so patient, until finally I call him and say let's do this. Let's make it happen. By this time I'm feeling like it's my own dang idea. What I mean to say is, my guard was down, WAY down.

Rob even let's me think it was my idea to bring my pal Li'l Shank in on the prank. Oh, he knows Li'l Shank too? We'll I'll be. What a coincidence! ! ! As I said, the CockyHam fella had me eatin' trust raisin's dipped in naive yoghurt right out of his money grubbin' hand.

We all take our place and Rob re-explains the rules. We're going to get in line at The Carl's Jr./Green Burrito. Let me point out now that Rob had previous told us it was a Carl's Junior. I'm not sure why he hid the Green Burrito (Burrito Verde en Espanol) but I'm sure it was part of his plan. I'm not as clever as he. We would then do ten laps around the restaraunt.

We'll I'm so full of good will and 99 cent bottled water (from the 99 cent store in the same parking lot) that it doesn't phase me when Crock-of-Ham suggests his friend (and mine? Yeah right) Li'l Shank pull into the drive in first. I pulled in behind the legendary #3 Car, sure that my 1990 Toyota Corolla would have no problem grabbin' up that checkered flag. After attempting to order some birthday cake (like I said I was confident) I set about winning this race.

That's when I realized, there's no room for passing in a drive through lane, and not quite enough room in the parking lot. We were all behind Blue Lightning (I don't know how Li'l Shank's car got that name, it aint blue, nor does it have any connection to lightning or weather of any kind.) and there aint no way to get around him.

So, we did our ten laps, stopping once when an overly enthusiastic fan drove onto the track (and ordered some food) and of course Li'l Shank took it all. I couldn't figure out what the angle was at first. I thought maybe Cockney-Spam (I don't know either) just wanted Shank's boy, Li'l Li'l Shank, to see his loser dad win for once. At any rate, I stubbed my toe getting out of my car to congratulate the "winner". Luckily there were paramedics on site.

It was on my way home, my toe throbbing, my pride on life support with no brain activity and lots of Senators, clergy men and hospital staff keepin' it's loved ones from yankin' the plug, that I realized what had transpired. I haven't found the proof yet but I'm willing to bet that Cockerham (seriously, it's a jacked up name without any help from me) was willing to bet and bet big on his Li'l Shank. I doubt the Shank-meister himself even got a fair cut of the greedy webmasters take on this.

Oh well. I put up a stong race, and I found out that C Jr/Green Burrito aint got no birthday cake.

If you're dumb enough to bother, you can read Rob Cocker Spaniel's version Here or Li'l Skank's (no that wasn't a typo) version Here.