Hey y’all, longtime NASCAR driver Kyle Petty here. I’m new to this column writin’ thang, so y’all have to cut me some slack, which is more than I can say for a certain domineering older brother I know. But I’m not here to talk about that — even though I gave up the best years of my life playing second fiddle to a follically-challenged egomaniac.
Sorry. I’m getting a little off track (ha!) …
Speaking of off track, some of us wanted to follow their dreams to Broadway, but noooooo, we had to be a part of the “family business”, which led me to the “bright” lights of Level Cross, North Carolina.
Have you ever been to Level Cross? They're wearing them acid wash jeans down there. With pleats! I mean, I still rock the acid wash, but I said goodbye to the pleats circa-2002. Someone send these guys a clue fax! Seriously!
Anywho, what I wanted to write about is this Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell nonsense. Congress just repealed it, and I say, it’s about time. I’ve been living under the Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell policy my entire life. Finally! Sweet freedom! What’s that? No, I’m not gay, although I could understand why you would think that. (Swishes massive mane about) (ED: what the hell is this? Parenthetical action? Stick to the subject.)
Don’t Ask me what I think. Why would you want to do that? Lord knows you know everything, you omniscient prick! You win a few races and all of a sudden you’re some kind of Nostradamus-Einstein-Google hybrid with out-of-style sunglasses. Might as well go buy a bigger cowboy hat, genius.
And Don’t Tell me what to do, either. But of course you will. Outside of making left turns at 190 miles per hour, it’s the best thing you do, right? Drive number 44 — even though you suffer from severe Tetraphobia! Shave! Only one sexy mustache per racing team! Your son should drive for us … what’s the worse that could happen? (Sobs uncontrollably.) (ED: Seriously, cut this shit out. It’s unprofessional.)
So, anyways, I’m happy that gay soldiers don’t have to live under a cloud of oppression and can serve our country honorably. If only a certain iron-fisted leadfoot would get up to speed. (ha ha!)
And for the record y'all, Yanni banged Linda Evans. Not too shabby!
Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Keep on drivin’ hard y’all! … Kyle.
