Nascar Quilt – $250
Words cannot make you see this quilt. It is Queen size and made from Nascar t-shirts. Call Dave ###-###-####
And now, a Kōan:
A disciple asked Sparkzhu: “Master, what is the nature of the quilt?”
He answered: “Words cannot make you see this quilt.”
The disciple pressed, “But does the quilt have buddha nature?”
Sparkzhu simply replied: “###”
Thank you for the enlightenment, William!
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telephone rings
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Dave there? I’m calling about the NASCAR quilt that cannot be seen. Ima big fan of racing and a quilt that cannot be seen would fit in with the rest of my collection of cannot-be-seen stuff…like the Dale Earnhardt, Jr championship trophy I got last week.”
“Hello?”
“Yeah…um…can you hear me?”
“Hello?”
“Hi…is Dave there?”
“Dave’s not here, maaaaaaaaaan.”
click
Oh no you didn’t!!! That was NOT a dig against Jr. He has some mighty big shoes to fill, man. He and Kyle Petty just can’t get a break. 😉
I hope Hubby doesn’t see this ad. I’ve successfully, one by one, “lost” or “broken” all his jungle decorations he had in his bedroom before we married. How would I destroy a Nascar quilt? Wrap road kill up in it? Use it to put out a grease fire in the kitchen? Give it to needy and cold orphans?
Intimidator, please!
Yeah, hatin’ the Junebug will get a person accused of being a KuBu fan, or one of the rainbow warriors (not that Jeffy can catch a break this year).
It’s not even as understandable as the “no 6 for 48” hate out there.
I miss Lake Speed in the 82, and the man with the best beard in racing, Boris Said.
Boris has got some hair on top of his head, too. Love the ‘fro.
*sits pouting in the corner because it seems no one gets the “Dave’s not here, maaaaaaaaan” ref*
‘It’s Dave! Lemme in!’
‘…….Dave’s not HERE!’
I heart you punkin! Thanks for showin’ some love to C&C!
Sounds like something out of Cheech & Chong, but I’m not going to google it to find out if I’m right or not.
It are.
OMG it’s HHNF!
And me without my stalking binoculars!
One of my personal favorite lines of all time …..
Well, at least you know Richard Petty’s car isn’t on it. That would make it ‘King’ size.
Words like violence
Break the silence,
Come crashing in,
Into Dave’s Nascar world.
Painful to him,
pierce right through him.
Can’t you understand,
O my quilt-wrapped girl.
All I ever wanted,
All I ever needed,
Is here in this quilt.
Words are very
Unnecessary,
Like all the shirts that I’ve killt.
You juxtaposed Depeche Mode and Nascar. I think something just went fizzle in my thinky-box.
So Dave thought it was a good idea to take all his old faded t-shirts that clothed their beer-guzzling sweaty owner in the infield while being infused with gas fumes and barbeque sauce, and sew them together into a cozy blanket to cover one’s naked body while sleeping. And then he decided a stranger would want to buy this testament to redneckedness.
Best of luck to you, Dave.
I think it’s a part of a greater plan… infusing those t-shirts with the diverse scents of the NASCAR universe, and then creating a quilt from them, is a time-honored tradition amongst the culture. It’s designed to instigate the Redneck Vision Quest*, in which a spirit guide – usually Speed Buggy – shows the semi-conscious dreamer the path to enlightenment, and reveals next season’s Sprint Cup Champion. But you have to be careful, as things can go terribly wrong… next time you see someone wandering around smelling of Goodyears and muttering incoherently about Dick Trickle, have some sympathy in your heart of hearts for those whose vision quests went awry.
*Also the name of my Allman Brothers cover band.
I just want a quilt with the number “3” all over it. I want the last thing I see before I close my eyes to be the remembrance of some Speed Goober over and over and over again. And, as I drift off into dreamland, to have the fragrance of rancid beer, chew tobacco, redneck funk, and petroleum jism wafting from the Advent calendar of mystery stains in every quilt block would be pure heaven.
Long live #3!!! Oh yeah…right….too late.
*Apologies to FM.
Now I know what to get GhostDad for Beesmas!
I was going to get him headphones for his metal detector, but a quilt cobbled together from the discarded clothing of a total stranger would be so much more personal and heartfelt, don’t you think?
It’s the gift that has the potential to keep giving and giving.
This quilt has rubber from the tires of every race winning car since 2000. It’s been ground up fine and sprinkled on the batting. It was hand-quilted using the same upholstery thread used in the pace cars. And for a limited time only, you can get the very last Bud Light can touched by Dale Sr. himself. May he race in peace.
*pssst* Dale Sr is the one who was killed. Junior just sucks. (oh yeah….[Corey]s and all that too.
More Junebug hate
Sounds like a person with all the Justin LaBonte t-shirts
Thanks, Lou. I’ll change it when I get home. 8)
I love the smell of burning rubber in the morning!
Er, hello, Line. That’s not how I meant it!
As long as you don’t have someone calling out lap times in a gantry over your bed, I think you’re okay.
So, uh… could Jesus make me see… the quilt?
Do we have a blasphemy section of the corner yet?
No, but I think the line may whip around and smack you in the head.
Left side only, though.
Three Happy Commentors in the box! Have fun, kids! Don’t drink all the milk, and put the legos away when you’re done with them.
Hey, Dave, you’re a ###-###-####! Now can I see the Goddamn quilt?!
Wait a minute here…….. does anyone remember the name of the “t-shirt-time”guy? As if a nascar quilt isn’t bad enough.
Mr. Winky would.
*clamps hands over ears*
La la la la! I don’t care what you say, Dave! You can’t make me see this quilt!
Hey, Dave! Hey! There’s this newfangled invention, even NEWER than words, and maybe even newerer than the Craig’s List: it’s called pictures. Pictures help me see things that aren’t actually in front of me. I know, it’s mind-blowing. And I don’t really want to see your Nascar quilt… I just thought you should know.
Hmm, my SeaFuu always insisted it was:
[breathe]
[block]
[breathe]
[block]
[block]
[breathe]
[turn]
[breathe]
[kick]
[breathe]
[breathe]
/tuna kibble/
I do not go to that d’oh jô anymore.
So words cannot make you see this quilt. What else could sparky do? Expressive dance? Telepathy? Or… oh I know this thing worth a thousand words.. oh yeah a painting! But maybe sparky can’t draw, there has to be another solution, I have to think more about that.
[scattered corey]
Ah, words don’t help much, for being half-deaf for having been to too many races without hearing protection.
Also, you really can’t see that much in the infield (unless the RV gets the tv broadcast of the race).
Being in the infield is more of a visceral experience. Combine having too many lite beers for too many days, with a persistent, not bad-but-not-good sunburn, with sleep deprivation, and immersed in smells–charcoal starter fluid; no-lead gasoline; burnt rubber; over and under cooked food. This then needs to be surrounded with sound in sensible volume.
Make a person really prefer their own couch on a Sunday afternoon with the TV more able to show replays of anything interesting, and with all sorts of cool info on pit times, and the like. (If, at the penalty of watching NAPA commercials )
[/corey]
[furthering the corey] A Yankee co-worker made his first trek to TMS for the fall race this year. He reported back on Monday that he was *shocked* to see some of the RVs leaving at the time the race started. I explained to him that there were two reasons – 1) that’s the ONLY time you can leave TMS and not sit in traffic for 3 hours and 2) party’s over, man, when the race starts all eyes turn to the track and/or television screens so unless you are staying till Monday you skedaddle outta there. [/end furthering the corey]
Gotsta get back to the welfare office.
*I’ll leave now. That was mean. True. Mean.
You know what would be even more awesome? What would be even more awesome would be the ability to generate this other solution with an inexpensive hand-held device. Such a device could even be integrated into something that people typically carry with them anyway. Some science-fiction writer really should write a novel about a 26th-century society that has them.
Oh Dave, you’re so out there with your imagination!!! Have you been drinking the ferret juice again?
So saith the Sparky. And lo, the Sparky did attempt to borrow his friend’s sister’s cousin’s unclebrother’s pikcha-takin’ machine in order to show the wonders of the quilt to the multitudes, but instead, being naughty in Jeebus’ sight, the Sparky did photograph his Sparklebits, and Jeebus was sad. And then did Sparky try to post the pictures on the List of Craig, and Craig said “I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that”.
Was that before or after he asked to open the pod bay doors?
Sparklebits? Holy cow, so glad I wasn’t drinking hot coffee when I read that. 🙂
(By the way, was that from 1 Taladegans or the apostle Martin? Perhaps Revolutions?)
And this is why I don’t post late in the day. *Meant for Jen.
That’s Ok, I read it <G>.
Also, Jen is in New Zealand, so, she’s writing in the future, about the past, too.
True dat, homes. I mean, Cap’n. And Cindy, it was from the Gospel of (NAS)CARinthians, though it is paraphrased in 1 Taladegans:
Is this Redneck Week, what with the Billy Ray Cyrus reference yesterday.
Wow! Didn’t realize you all where such NASCAR fans. Here:
Twas the Race before Christmas
and all through the track
Each driver was ready to make his attack.
The tires had been stacked by the pit crew with care
With hopes none of them would run out of air.
The drivers were belted all snug in their seats
Where visions of checkered flags looked mighty sweet.
When out of the infield there rose such a clatter
The crowd sprang to their feet
to see what was the matter.
What sight met their wondering eyes as they rose
Twas Rusty Wallace punching somebody’s nose.
With eyes like the eagles the spotters they came
And they turned on their headsets
and called them by name
“On Spencer! On Petty! On Rudd and Jarrett!
On Cope! On Speed! On Ward and Jeff Burton!
At the top of the curve ran ’em into the wall!
Now gentlemen, start your engines all!”
More rapid than lightning the Iceman they flew
With a sack full of cash and the Winston Cup too.
And then in a twinkling there came to the front
The bright rainbow colors of Gordon’s DuPont.
Then Bobby Labonte flew by in a flash
While Martin had a breakdown and Spencer a crash.
Then all at once with a rush and a roar
There came a new car they had not seen before.
From bumper to bumper it was painted all red
North Pole Toy Co. was the sponsor they read.
With a little old driver so lively and quick
They all said at once, “Hey, this must be a trick!”
“A geezer like that shouldn’t be driving here!”
“And why does his pit crew all have pointed ears?”
The next scheduled pit stop went kinda slow
For the old fellow stopped at each pit in the row.
He spent no time at all, but left gas and oil
A new set of tires, new tools for their toil.
He asked no endorsement, demanded no fee
And left only coal for the black #3.
Childress got on the com and said Hey Intimidator..
Want to chew him up now, or save him for later?”
Dale spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
He gave him a nudge, then broadsided the jerk.
But the old guy escaped with a zig and a zag
And crossed over the finish line, right at the flag.
The old man drove straight up to victory lane
Grabbed up the trophy and drank some champagne.
Thanked all his sponsors and took the cash too
Stole a kiss from Brooke Gordon, and then off he flew
As he sped out of sight, one last cry did they hear,
“Merry Christmas to all, better luck next year!”
Author unknown…….
Old school excellence–all it lacked was references to spoiler and restrictor plates <G>
That put me in mind of this:
Reluctantly crouched at the starting line,
engines pumping and thumping in time.
the green light flashes, the flags go up.
churning and burning, they yearn for the cup.
they deftly maneuver and muscle for rank,
fuel burning fast on an empty tank.
reckless and wild, they pour through the turns.
their prowess is potent and secretly stern.
as they speed through the finish, the flags go down.
the fans get up and they get out of town.
the arena is empty except for one man,
still driving and striving as fast as he can.
the sun has gone down and the moon has come up,
and long ago somebody left with the cup.
but he’s driving and striving and hugging the turns.
and thinking of someone for whom he still burns.
he’s going the distance.
he’s going for speed.
she’s all alone
all alone in her time of need.
because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,
he’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse,
he’s going the distance.
no trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine,
he’s haunted by something he cannot define.
bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse,
assail him, impale him with monster-truck force.
in his mind, he’s still driving, still making the grade.
she’s hoping in time that her memories will fade.
cause he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,
he’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.
the sun has gone down and the moon has come up,
and long ago somebody left with the cup.
but he’s striving and driving and hugging the turns.
and thinking of someone for whom he still burns.
cause he’s going the distance.
he’s going for speed.
she’s all alone
all alone in her time of need.
because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,
he’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.
he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,
he’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.
he’s going the distance.
he’s going for speed.
he’s going the distance.
-Cake
Since this invisibility quilt is not one of the Deathly Hallows, it is a substandard imitation, and probably not worth the price. Nascar T-shirts are no substitute for pelts of the Demiguise.
Dunno, if it would get Robbie Gordon or the Logano to not DNF on a regular basis . . .
But, that would probably require Horcrux in immense quantity . . . (and Chad Knause probably cannot divide any more of his soul . . . )