Hey’all, longtime NASCAR driver Kyle Petty here. I’m here to talk about this Covid-19 lockdown business. I don’t know if you’ve ever been locked down before, but I can tell you from experience, thanks to a certain older sibling, it’s not a lot of fun. I’ve been forced to socially distance myself at least two laps down on some occasions. 

I know a lot of you good people have been furloughed or laid off. It’s not fun not working — and I should know. I basically had my career quarantined by a guy who makes Gretchen Whitmer look like a Fellow from the Mises Institute.  Tyranny comes in all shapes, sizes, and mustaches. And you wonder why some guys end up with a nickname like “King.”  I’m a citizen, not a subject! 

You try bein’ under house arrest in Level Cross, North Carolina. There’s only so many times you can take out from Hardee’s. I’ve had everything on the menu … twice! My cholesterol is probably redlining on the backstretch of the speedway of my arteries, to wax pathetic.

Wise Janis Joplin said “Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose.” Well heck y’all, I had to lose a lot so a certain overbearing relative could put more feathers in his ridiculous cowboy hat.  Now the only thing I have left to lose is this prodigious coiffure. I ain’t had a haircut in over 2 months and I’m starting to look like Crystal Gayle on Pop Goes the Country!

Now, I’ll tell you a one-size-fits-all approach ain’t the right idea for the whole dang country, just like it ain’t the right idea for a racing team. Heck, in Level Cross, our idea of public transit is hitchin’ a ride with the Mayor.  So I say it’s time to let the people make their own choices and decide for themselves. Thanks to a certain motherbrother, it’s a real foreign concept around here! 

Well, that’s all for now. Stay safe and keep drivin’ y’all!

Hey y’all, longtime NASCAR driver Kyle Petty here.
I'm here to talk about our current healthcare crisis. That's right, just because I'm some NASCAR big shot doesn't mean I don't have health issues and problems covering those issues! 

You try turnin' left for four hours and see if you don't get that Carpet Tunnel Syndrome!

Of course, do you think Petty Enterprises would have a Cadillac health plan when all we drive are Pontiac Grand Prixeses and Ford Tauri?

Heck no! We've got bottom-barrel coverage thanks to a certain sibling I shall not name, but it rhymes with Dick!

Now, I don't know about that single payer them uppity coastal types keep talking about — sounds like some Commie plot to make us all trannies or something. I mean, I've already got the Vanessa Hudgens hair, maybe I'll go all the way! NASCAR sure could use a "lady" who actually knows how to drive. I'm lookin' at you, Danica!

That said, I do know we need some smarter solutions to help people afford their healthcare.

I mean, just lookin' at all them coverage options makes my head feel like Dale Earnhardt hittin' a wall! Healthcare coverage may be complicated, but in Level Cross, they make healthcare simple.

Diabetes? Oxycodone or leeches!
Depression? Oxycodone or leeches!
Diverticulitis? Oxycodone or leeches!
Sometimes, they even give the leeches oxycodone and then give you the leeches!

According to that mustache attached to a skinsuit I call a brother, I have to pay for my own Rogaine supplements. Our cut-rate Yankee insurance company has the gall to tell me that a 'slightly receding hairline' had no basis for medical intervention.

Maybe there's a reason Petty is our family name ... just sayin'. 

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.