It gets very sweaty in those cars.
Really bad underarms.
Erected to keep the stench away from the spectators.
What every heterosexual driver does unless something very strange happens during the race.
Dangerous manoeuvre gradually being outlawed from Grand Prix racing.
Electricity system used to charge car batteries.
Where the dancers are in the club frequented by drivers the night before a race.
Rota of private dances in the club on the night before a race.
Cigarette smoked by French drivers.
Official upholding the law during races in the Wild West.
Make very fast baby buggies.
When lap dancers change into their slips.
All the discarded negligees of the lap dancers.
Nazi rocket-powered Grand Prix car.
Essential to get the electricity from the battery to the starter motor.
Electricity from the grid that powers the roadlamps.
The driver has been sweating too much on the electrics.
It’s not only your armpits that are sweaty.
It’s so wet there’s a fish on the track.
Used to pull carts with all the straw bales in.
Not encouraged at the lap dancing club.
Friend of Helmet.
Ancient Roman mp3 player.
There’s none of this in Grand Prix racing. Everyone knows it’s the car that’s first at the first corner that will win.
Drivers spray this all over each other at the end of the race because there’s no time to have a shower before the press conference.
There’s a bull on the circuit.
Someone has broken down.
There’s a scared driver who wants to stop.
The Grand Prix has been taken over by Islamic extremists.
No-one’s sure what on earth is happening but everyone’s had enough of watching the cars go round and round in the same positions for two hours so it’s time to go home. Or back to the lap-dancing club, if you’re a driver.
2 thoughts on “Grand Prix Racing”
This post drove me right round the bend.
In second gear.
Give us a brake!