This is like my 12th attempt at starting this self indulgent set of lies that most pass off for a race report. Unlike the rest, I won't lie to you about what happened, horseshit about getting their knee down or passing someone on the outside on one wheel uphill because their front wheel has fallen off.
I'm gonna tell it straight to you like the honest person I am.
Me and Deano climbed aboard our helicopter early on Saturday morning from our exclusive retreat hidden in the Waiarapa and landed in the field next to the race track and sauntered into our executive pit garage my new1 brolly dolly Cindy had just finished cleaning my leathers and helped me into them and said something about me having a very nice arse today and that she'd like to see some more of it later.
My pit bitch on loan from HRC pulled the cover off my pristine RC212V and told me that Aaron (Slight) had done some laps yesterday to dial in the suspension for Taupo, and that the suspension guy had made some tweaks for me because of my faster pace than Aaron around the corners and more aggressive braking.
I didn't bother with scrub in, I let Aaron do that.
I qualified a healthy 1st, a good 25 seconds ahead of next best Casey Stoner. I had noticed a slight twitch coming out of the sweeper and made a note to give the mechanics a jolly good talking to about that later.
First race and the flag dropped. Obviously I was first to the corner and did the first 4 laps far out ahead. As I was coming in to lap Rossi for the second time the engine spluttered as I came into the hairpin and died. I figured I had enough time to push the bike bike to the finish line and still claim first place. So I got off and pushed the bike from the hairpin to the finish line. I glanced at the speedo as I ran down the back straight and saw 25km/h and then up at the thousands of fans in the stands cheering me on. I jumped up on seat and gave them all a wave and a bow. I saw some young women faint when I did that. Anyway, I rolled the bike across the line just as Stoner was coming to the end of the back straight. I have to admit I was feeling a little pooped. I should lay off the caviar.
Turns out the bike stopped because the battery was not charged properly. The mechanic in charge of batteries promptly feel on his sword. While I think this seems a little odd in our culture, I do think in this case that was the respectful thing to do.
Race two was just an unmitigated success and I rolled to victory by 7 minutes. I didn't even break a sweat, even when it broke down again on the back straight. I quickly diagnosed this as simply running out of fuel. So I urinated in the tank and used the engine to ride in to victory. My urine is flammable.2
At prize giving I collected my 6th 'no. 1' sash for the season.
I then went on to party with supermodels and snort enough a-class to supply then entire Auckland CBD for a weekend.
All and all, a pretty regular weekend.
I snapped this photo of Valentino. It explains a lot.
1 New, the old one left mumbling something about 'it is too big'. To this day I don't know what she is talking about.
2 I'm out of material okay, I'm getting tired.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Drew
: *Swoon* 
Brilliant, I'm simply not worthy. If you need someone to clean your earwax at the next meeting please have your butler's manservant get me.
great write up simon! 
Bookmarks