I Got as Far as the Snowmobile
My vote was decided in a matter of seconds. No it didn’t have to do with watching this creepy video:
It had to do with hearing that Governor Sarah Palin’s husband, Todd, won some grueling snowmobile race and that he prides himself on that happy memory–so much so that his license plate bears the race’s name. He actually pays money to boast to fellow drivers that he is a kickass snowmobile rider.
What is grueling about it? Do you risk a frozen ass? Will you die if you run out of gas? “Snowmobiles” and “grueling” aren’t synonymous. Snowmobiles and excessive noise: now you’re talking.
What are the challenges in this grueling 2000-mile race?
Not pushing the gas pedal down hard enough? You don’t hold the pedal to the metal for 3 months straight, you lose buddy.
Letting go of the steering wheel? You try holding your arms out for 3 months in frigid conditions, pal.
Getting lost? Running out of gas? No gas stations out there, unless we start drilling damnit. Drill baby drill.
Wearing a diaper in sub-zero condtions? Hey listen, poop freezes to skin, did you know that?
This whole thing is typical; it’s red state/redneck absurdity.
“Hey I’m just a HACKEYMAAM FROM WASILLA.”
“And I’m her husband. I have a goatee. I’m a snowmobile racer and a hunter. I eat meat and ride around town while straddling an iron horse. I kill things and pose next to them; I represent the rugged American; I am strong and independent. If the redcoats landed in Wasilla, I’d get my powderhorn and musket and go kill them.”
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