Friday, July 3, 2009

Low Spark of High Heels...

I went to the Suncoast Gran Prix dry pit area today. The actual race is on Sunday. Tomorrow is practice and qualifying. The boats will all be there tomorrow, today was the roadies coming in and setting up the rigs for working on the boats.

First things first. Along with Fast boats come pretty women, I just could not pass up a photo opportunity.

Checkered Flag means the race is over. Yeah Buddy.

Fresh Squeezed, please.

Which one is the blonde?

Well of course.


  1. Fast boats, sunshine and thigh brows, it don't git no better brother Punch.

  2. Damn, I am jealous. I want to go. I know exactly where that is. Went there with a friend once to get a peak at the boats before the race.

    You stole my squeeze line! Shook me up.

    "Which one is the blond?" - The one with the tatoo on his left arm?

  3. Peach, you are so astute and I am hoping, street smart. However...if you find yourself strolling down Peachtree past the Fox theater and you encounter a bearded gnome with a camera...frothing at the corner of his mouth...mumbling and talking in for your life. Need I say more?

  4. JJ... you've said enough, how 'bout a nice cup of shut the fuck up? humm????

  5. The shut the fuck up cup is full of the truth which hurts, eh? Have you considered the fact that Jesus and Zeus love you and your camera and your dog and the weeds in your yard and the gaggle of people who abhor you?

  6. oh?
    I have a gaggle of people who adore me???
    Oh please god let Peach Tart be one of them.

  7. Abhor.

    Word on the street is that MR. PEACH TART, a Desert Storm sniper vet, expert shot with oak leaf clusters, has put out a contract on your sorry ass with some fellow sniper types who are in need of some fast money. He is also thinking about a sub-contract on a certain Mr. Name myself-after-an-unsuspecting South Carolina City, smart mouth...who takes liberties with certain innocent gentile Southern Ladies. Listen up, mofo.

    Give up those Peachtree strolls in the moonlight fantasys, fool.

  8. Ahhhuu would you like that cup of shut the fuck up with latte? hummm???

  9. Me thinks JJ has a case of the horneys and his old lady has already given him a cup of Shut the Fuck Up. It looks like even a double dose isn't enough.

    But I will agree with one thing. That part about a gnome with a camera. You had better look out Peach.

    And listen Mr. Know It All Truth or Consequences... innocent-gentile-Southern ladies is an oxymoron.

  10. C---I saw that fucking commercial about oxymorons, being hacked by Billy Mays. Has it not occurred to you that ol' Billy is no longer with us? Have you not figured out that he was inhaling far too much oxymoronicide? You seem to be sniffing it also.

    Take heed my friend...take heed.

  11. All you boys seem so tortured. Let me help you. Now just relax and close you eyes. That's it. Just relax while I make you a drink and slip into something a little more comfortable. Here, I'll put on some soft music. Now, isn't that better already?

    Now don't you start up that silly fussing again, you hear?

  12. Man W...yes well if you insist.


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email, love being alive, the alterntiative has lousy hours, liberal and don't care if you give me cracked corn.