Back in Daytona Beach, FL. I thought this place was classy when NASCAR was here, but two hours into Bike Week I saw titties. There was a wet t-shirt contest where there was no prize, except having an icy cold shirt. And guys would pay $20 for a pitcher of water to pour on the girls. This city screams class. I wish I knew more about motorcycles so I could drool over the bikes here. There’s well over 1000 motorcycles here, and many more to come. My teammate got mugged last night. He’s okay, but he might be quitting. I understand where he’s coming from. When I got mugged in Puerto Rico, I got the fuck out of there as soon as possible. We’ll see what happens. I also got a digital camera yesterday. Bike Week pictures soon to come.
My Face Hurts
I need to remember this:
50 year-old lady: “Well, i dunno about this. I’m only used to putting cigarettes and dick in my mouth.”
Day 3
Highlight of the day: You have to be 18+ to enter the Camel tent. This guy with his toddler came up. ”Sorry sir, your son can’t come in.” ”Ey boy, stay here and watch my beer.”
Day 2
They gave us a beachfront hotel in Daytona Beach. Too bad it’s cold as shit here, and it’s kind of a waste and a tease. I met the people I’m going to spend all day everyday with for the next two and a half months. Set up the tent at the racetrack. Then a four hour powerpoint presentation in a fancy conference room in the hotel. There were water pitchers on all the tables and mints and shit. When did I become this important? I win at life. I can’t wait to talk to NASCAR fans all day tomorrow. No, seriously. Dale Jr. for life.
Daytona Beach, FL
#1 Everybody at the company I work at got laid off.
#2. I got promoted.
#3. I have a traveling job. I flew into Daytona today.
#4. I will have a lock of Dale Jr.’s hair very soon.
