And I'm going to lay it all on the line and bet you a dollar -- all right, make it $10, hell, make it $100 and a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and a mani-pedi in the Castro -- that there is, right this minute, a gay NASCAR driver. Oh my God! Heathen! Blaspheme! Shut up!
The one with the superbly tailored and color co-ordinated driving suit with the cut glass vases in his Camry?
I asked Mrs. G about this since she knows more about NASCAR than I do. Her answer? "Oh, probably."
Go read the rest of this excellent column, particularly those of you who enjoy watching large sweaty men in shorts or knee pants chase an engorged pig bladder around the lawn and touch each other...
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