Chris and I sat down a bit over MSN (I was definitely sitting, what he was doing... I don’t want to know) and discussed the last episode of Top Gear, featuring a useless military vehicle, an ugly Jag knock-off, James’ hair and of course, the glorious Amy Williams. This is what happened:
G: Okay. So what about the Marauder? Frankly, when I heard it first, I thought they were about to discuss the Mercury Marauder, a deceased muscle car.
C: Really? I initially believed it might be some unusual niche Chinese car. Until I realised they hadn't bolted on other random names like Cherry-Entwistle-Glorious-Honky-Tonk to it.
G: Anyway, ever wondered why TG guys would crush an Alfa? What were they thinking?
C: Nevermind that, back to the Marauder. And the point being? It's the age old arguement concerning the relevance of features such as this on a car magazine programme surely? Does this really balance with what viewers want to hear about?
G: In America... Yes. You can never be sure about your safety. A squirrel may attack you while parking. HAARD! I mean: HAZARD!
C: Or downtown Johannesburg, possibly. Newport Pagnell? I doubt it very much... I guess it did have a massive bootspace though. From directly behind the driver's seat to roughly the rear door.
G: Bigger than the BMW 1M’s.
C: Don't start me on the M1. Smooth link mind.
G: No, no ,no... it's a 1M.
C: That's my point. Ridiculous that BMW have named M-Sport 1 series 1M. Simply because of existence of 1970s M1 supercar concept. Which nobody really recalls anyway. You have the M3, M5, M6 - then the 1M. How confusing is this?
G: Weren't they thinking ahead when giving names? I'd take the Evora S any time.
C: And then there's the British motorways to contend with.... What? Over a 1M?
G: Should have been the BMW M0.5+0.5
C: Or the BMW 3M. Named after some hardcore sellotape.
G: Oh yes, or the floppy disk.
C: I believe that BMWs should have names anyway. The M3 would be the BMW Cocksman
G: Like the Cockster?
C: No, that's the Z4. Incidentally I have a model of the Z4 that flashes its headlights and sings a little tune as it turns around. Only it sings in a woman's voice. A Chinese woman's voice. In Chinese. My dad bought it off some market stall for a tenner.
G: “Cheap little car, yes, come, buy this cheap little car...” Anyway, the thing about James May... He looks like my grandmother. He shouldn’t be tied to any seat tight, makes him look like a paralyzed OAP.
C: May's hair is frankly ridiculous looking now. It's neither one thing nor the other. Grow it, or get it cut James. It's just not good form. And then there's Hammond's insistence on wearing beads around his neck. At 40-something.
G: I'm sure those are his old teeth. Amy Williams' body and face should have been superimposed on James.
C: That all-in-one bodysuit was something else though wasn’t it? She wouldn’t require any lubrication at all would she?
G: No, don't even mention that, no... no... I don't want to take a break now...
C: For hurtling down a mountain on a tea tray I mean.
G: My cup of tea for sure. [note: there's a Mrs. G, no worries]
C: Aerodynamics and all that non-sticky stuff...
G: Oh dear, here we go...
C: Clarkson was all over her like a rash though, wasn’t he?
G: Yes, like a leper.
C: Even my dad wouldn’t have embarrassed himself so readily. My dad only really likes women in sepia. He's old now.
G: Like Jane Fonda?
C: I didn’t know where to look. So I paused the still frame of her describing that thing she does with her shoulders. Whilst shaking MY HEAD and tutting at Clarkson's schoolboy antics.
G: Not "minis" there for sure. I have other thoughts in mind too, but I leave it to my Hungarian instead. Still, Amy rules over another lady, called Alice.
C: Smooth transition again my friend. Just like Amy down a gradient. Yes, special agent Dale Cooper. Sorry, wrong show. Still thinking Twin Peaks. Alpine variety.
G: I was wondering why nobody laughed at the car he showed off. Maybe the audience was afraid he would bite their head off.
C: Do we have a female audience yet at #motorspurts? That you know of? Should I curb my sexism?
G: Over Alice Cooper...? Woooo...
C: He was very tame, wasn’t he? And an absolute rubbish driver. Not like Meatloaf, who, if I remember correctly, went like a bat out of hell around the circuit.
G: Alice is the godfather of Dave Mustaine of Megadeth. He would cause a mega death in traffic for sure.
C: He Slayer'd no one. And that Kia looked just like an Iron Maiden.
G: Driving an automatic? He was right there with Tom Jones being a shitty driver.
C: It's not unusual amongst rock stars... excepting Sir Jay of Kay of course.
G: Is he a rock star?
C: In my book he is.
G: I always though JK was a pimp. LOOK AT THE HAT!
C: Who, Rowling? You'd hang for that comment in this country. She's the unofficial Queen nowadays. Jay Kay's the CAT in the hat, and don’t you forget that!
G: So, for environmental reasons everybody will ride brooms?
C: Sorry, did someone mention Emma Watson going down(hill) in a figure-hugging catsuit? … Where's my mind today. CARS. Anyway, cars. It's so typical of conversation to veer off car-topics when discussing TG isn’t it?
G: Yes. The JAAAAAAAG. Frankly? The Eagle Speedster is like a messed up, stretched Cobra.
C: My thoughts entirely.
G: An ugly looking one without the chrome bumpers.
C: It looks for all its worth (£half a million) like one of those wooden panelled classic speedboat things from certain angles.
G: Boat? looks like an inflatable life-saving rubber boat. And for £500,000? You can't get half a Veyron for that. And they are not available either.
C: I actually found myself cringing for the first time ever with the ceremonial send off/50th birthday celebration at the end. The show is seriously risking becoming a pastiche of itself.
G: But anything can be forgiven when you Spit Fire over it.
C: Why do people have to keep on re-visualizing what cars from our glorious past would look like now? Like the Beetle, Mini, that shitty little Citroen thing that aped the 2CV.. Re-imagining - that’s what its called.
G: Oh no, the Citroen is awful. But the new Mustang is killing! Americans are better at this I think.
C: You're still banging on about American muscle bollocks? YAWN... I still think the man versus machines feature still works on TG.
G: Yes, but the Skeleton vs. Midget in MINI feature was over-dramatic.
C: I like drama. And the BBC does it best in this country, my friend.
G: Especially when it has Amy Williams in slow-mo.
C: Although there was a distinct lack of period clothing going on... Apart from May's hair. And what was with all the strategically placed attractive women in the studio audience this week? Appealing to a young male demographic again.
G: They should replace May and Clarkson... with us. I'm sure about that, just for the show looking younger.
C: You'd never get past security with your hair.
G: My hair is my lair!
C: I know. I reckon you have people living in it. Wasn't that Alesha Dixon stood behind Hammond when he was doing the news?
G: Is that someone I supposed to know?
C: Exactly. Some Strictly Come Dancing contestant. Famous over here for not a lot. She judges something or other now.
G: YAWN...
C: And I thought I saw Katy Perry in the audience at one point, too.
G: Katy Perry was here in Hungary, shooting a video... she had tits on fire.
C: Tits on fire!!!!!!
G: Don’t believe me?
C: Good call. Wasn't that the King of Leon's follow-up to Sex on Fire? I'd probably put Katy out if her breasts did catch alight mind. With a damp.
G: Stop right there, I warn you!!
C: Sorry. THE NEWS, YES!
G: What about the glory of British auto making? Was it lost in the Union Jack the soldiers stretched on the white cliff?
C: The Mini Coupe for example. That news/image was broke last week on the Internet. Don’t they assume viewers have access to modern media platforms?
G: They are just platform for telling scripted jokes.
C: Bit like this chat then?
G: Mmmmm.... Yes.
C: See, TG inspires something. Still, self-indulgence mainly. Like Clarkson's Jaguar thing. Love-in. Jezz-fest.
G: So how long till people can handle Jezza's old face and growing gut on their super-sized HDTVs?
C: That’s the reason I still view it on my transistor radio.
G: Adds to the smoky voice.
C: Sometimes I even watch it on my iEtch-a-sketchPlayer.
G: In a few years they should all have pixelated faces unless it becomes a mature-only feature
C: The Stig? Is he the only reason a lot of folk still tune in? The question of who is he, now that Ben ‘whatshisbollock’ has been unmasked... The element of surprise.
G: It's a #gtts feature: Guess The Test Stig. Simon would love that.
C: He would. Simon's get overexcited very easily. Just think of @sf4d74. You know. Simon Simon.
G: So I suppose the Stig drives a SsangYong then.
C: No, some other reasonably priced car apparently. Simon says, "Look, here's ANOTHER picture of a random car from ANOTHER angle."
G: “Look, the right corner of a cupholder!”
C: Alright. Have you a message for your new fans over here in the UK?
G: Yes, don't hurt the blackbird and world peace!
C: I have one for my potential ‘Hungarish’ ones. Ladies, I'm available most week nights, I’m single, I'm tall, dark... sorry.
G: We use 'dark' on people who are mentally... dark.
C: You've figured me out already. So, this first of the new series of Top Gear. To summarise: self indulgent, predictable, stereotypical, chauvinistic, sexist and as funny and entertaining as ever.
G: And on that bombshell we should all now imitate Clarkson's voice... in the world... WHAT?
C: Keep it up lads. And not just when you’re standing in front of Amy.
G: She's positioned horizontally most of the time, when she puts out peak performance... No, I didn't say that.
C: No, but I have mentally imagined it, it’s too late. That and Katy Perry's firework display.
G: Okay: your thoughts - my words.
C: In terms of this thought, it should always be your thoughts, my writing.
G: I'm thinking: WHAT?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Rant on #F1 #Valencia
The FIA European GP In @GeeHalen’s Words
Okay, before I start this, my first blog entry for MotorSpurts, let me just say: "HI, MUM, I'M ON THE INTERNET!" That said, I must now report on the Valencia Grand Prix, that was less interesting than the previous exclaim.
I would love to give you dramatic details, white-knuckle rides, but sadly, I cannot decide whether I should report on my dogs' sleep instead, or the adventure I had with a small bird my wife brought home the day before yesterday, which refused to eat most of the time and ended up being dead by this afternoon as I took it down under a bush this morning, in the hope its mother may find it.
After such shocking details, something more horrific is to come.
To remain factual, I am obliged to report that a man named Vettel won the race. We happy, Vincent? Alright, take a cross, move on.
First of all can someone please define for me what the European Grand Prix stands for? I know there have been races like the Pacific Grand Prix and so on, but why is it good apart from a country advertising itself and bringing money into F1, or am I just being too naive here?
For example, Italy loves F1. Or Ferrari, so to speak, and they used to have two Grand Prix events during the same year, with San Marino being a scapegoat for that (mind that: I would love to see Ferraris being pushed down San Marino's hill sometime, just for the laugh). If Italy wasn't the "I" in PIGS, I'm sure they would have four F1 races by now. One Italian, one San Marino, one European and one Vatican Grand Prix. I'd love that latter one. Seriously. If Vallelunga wouldn't be up for the challenge, then some burnouts could still be done under the Pope's window.
Okay, so a "European" GP doesn't make sense, we know it by now, but what about a race in Valencia? Yes, Alonso is a two-times champion, so the same reasons as above, but why the STREETS of Valencia when the town already has a racetrack?
For the beautiful backdrops? They are all covered by guardrails and it's a commercial harbour, anyway. For the money? They are the "S" in PIGS, so maybe not. For the exciting races? Zzzzzzzz. I know! It's the sea! The only problem is that there are thousands of miles of Mediterranean coast still there, and Monaco still beats it with that one too, so that’s another fail right there. Valencia is not the Long Beach of Monaco, right? (WTF?!). To put it simply, streets and Tilke don't mix. Nor shaken, nor stirred, not even in Bucharest, Romania.
Someone said about the Hungaroring circuit (must be an important person if I remember this) that it is like Monaco, just without the houses. To be frank, the only cool thing about the Monaco circuit is the houses, otherwise it would be a rubbish track for F1, just as the Hungaroring (you read this from a Hungarian, remember). So the Valencia circtuit is a Tilke track with all the mentioned "houses" hidden behind walls.
A truly epic fail.
So how was the race? édsouhböe59tÍŰÚÜS
Sorry. sléguűwőö3
Sorry, I fell asleep again.
So Vettel won, Pirellis were wearing out, Schumacher almost ignited WWIII bumping the Russian Petrov from behind. A Ferrari and a Lotus almost crashed into each other, too (too bad it didn't happen, they would have been the new Vanwall) and all cars made it to the end, that is almost unprecedented in the history of F1.
The problem is, that cheaty DRS just didn't work here, not even for Webber to entertain us with a back flip. The Turkish GP put the standard for overtaking excitement so high, that every single race will be measured by it for quite a while.
What we saw was a Schumacher race from the early noughts. Even Lewis Hamilton admitted that, following the same train of thought, concluding that Vettel will be a World champion again, sooner or later, why should he himself be bothered anymore this year, only to state the opposite this morning (Lewis, Twitter is faster than the print shop. Can you confirm you UNDERSTOOD this message...?)
To be frank (Hi, I'm Frank Vajda), I don't give a penny on what's happening in F1 now. And the reason for this is the DRS and the new tyres. Do I want to watch a several hundred bucks-worth piece of carbon fibre and a set of rubber entertain me?
FIA, just say this is F1 for this year, with all honesty, and I will bow down with all respect. Until that, bring on WEC, so at least there would be a real reason to tweet during races other than getting bored to death by all the artificial amendments you try to squeeze into F1.
The FIA European GP In @Bateman1972’s Words
Well said Frank. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Well, I could. Only it would have taken far too long, and I still have to write about the new series of Top Gear and other such exciting, unpredictable motoring-related pap before our editorial deadline.
So what was my take on this non-event you ask? Read on....
So that was the race that wasn't then. Or as it was billed in the Radio Times, The Formula One European Grand Prix from Valencia. The single most, joylessly futile waste of my time and electricity that I have ever had the rank misfortune to find myself sitting through. Yes. Thankfully I was – and remained – seated throughout the televisual ordeal, never once inching myself closer to the edge of my seat. I only wish I could have mustered the energy to reach for the off button, but by that stage any last vestiges of will power had fled my boredom-ravaged body.
So you're probably asking – and for those of you who missed it, the DVD will make an ideal Christmas present for those you hate most in your life – what made the European GP such 'must watch' TV for a Sunday afternoon? That somewhere in the region of 5m viewers believed would be a good way to avoid Britain's intolerably hot one day summer. The answer of course is lost forever, to anyone who witnessed the spectacle. And therein, missed the glorious weather here in the UK to sit indoors, slumped over a laptop, eyes narrowing to pass 'live', dare I say it, 'real time' subversive comment and ill-informed judgement on a race that even normally doesn't exactly set the Formula One world on fire. Having said that, a spot of deliberate arsonery (is there any other type?) might have provided something exciting to discuss.
I guess it was inevitable, that given the exhilarating nature – albeit by accident rather than design – of the last F1 outing at Canada a fortnight since, that the next episode in the FIA's primary race calendar would be a damp squib by comparison. And so it was, if you excuse the fishy pun. Although that's something that the BBC didn’t apologize for as its commentary team ensured that viewers knew that the buildings housing the manufacturer's pit lane garages were once fish processing factories. Still, when the race itself threw up as many interesting flash-points you could understand Humphries and co wanting to up the ante. Or head to the nearby beach and top up their tans.
As you are only too well aware, the Valencia circuit – make the most of it, we doubt we'll be seeing it again anytime soon as an F1 venue – is a street circuit, like Monaco. Only NOTHING like Monaco. Admittedly, there were a few super yachts moored up, but other than that the backdrop was one of heavy industry. Cranes and other gargantuan lifting devices. And then there was a bit of a beach. And a drawbridge. The latter forming part of the circuit. If Monte Carlo brings Hollywood to Formula 1, then Valencia surely brings Holywell to the party. Which to the uninitiated is a place in North Wales that's as far removed from Los Angeles as it's possible to be. Geographically, culturally, diagnostically, ruefully....Although it did give rise to ITV children's presenter, Gaz Top. Anyway, I digress. Something which I seemed to do for the entirity of the European Grand Prix just to help time pass that much quicker. At one stage I remember challenging someone to an impromptu game of I-Spy, only they got SeBASTARD Vettel in a flash. Which none of the drivers were capable of.
For us here at MotorSpurts however, it was meant to offer the start of a bright and brave new dawn of Tweet-casting. Not sure if that's an expression we can coin as yet, but we like it, so it stays. You'll soon discover that about the team here at MotorSpurts. What we say, pretty much goes. If you don't like it, try reading another blog that's more to your tastes. Ones that don't express opinion or the darker side of humour. Unlike the rest of motor racing society, we ain't gonna kiss Bernie's sweetcheeks. His daughter's now, that's a different story.
So, to the 2011 European GP itself, and the veritable smorgasbord of race highlights. After careful, post-GP scrutiny, we found the following nuggets to remind ourselves just why Formula One can be so dull.
Michael Schumacher's front spoiler/splitter released itself from the front of his car after some sort of collision with Petrov that I actually failed to see as I was texting/tweeting at the time of the supposed 'action'. Yet have been reliably informed this 'event' took place sometime during the course of the European GP. And that the Russian driver didn’t seem particularly bothered by the incident. Schumacher pitted and had a new nose cone fitted, and off he toddled. Yawn.
Vettel recreating THAT famous Meg Ryan scene as he realised he'd done enough to win the race. I.e, drive 57 laps without being overtaken or break sweat. Yawn. (Unfurling of my simian-like arms aloft as I stretched)
The pit lane babes forming a stairway to heaven, or rather, to the podium for the lucky winners. Hey, wake up dude! What’s happening here?! Did someone say pit lane babes??!!
Almost losing my BBC iPlayer connection three times during the course of the race. In the end I had to unplug my laptop to make both the pictures and sound go away. Cue any sort of physical movement/interfacing betwixt myself and the race pictures being beamed live to my laptop.
The continual prospect of the F1 safety car being deployed. Only it remained just a prospect, as the sky stubbornly stayed cloudless throughout the ordeal, sorry, race. Yawn.
As far as I recall Vettel only made the one pit stop. And by that stage he was so far ahead of the field he had time to go for a slash, leaf through some top shelf German porn mags AND purchase a couple of CDs he'd been promising himself for a while. I think David Hasslehoff's greatest hits package was one of them. Yawn, belch. Oops. Sorry.
He now leads the Driver's Championship by a whopping 77 points and won't be beaten. Just like Max Mosely promised his long-suffering wife recently.
Is that it? Can I leave the room now Frank? I can’t feel my legs anymore. Frank? Be sure to tune in next time as we turn to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to salvage our badly damaged love affair with F1........
Okay, before I start this, my first blog entry for MotorSpurts, let me just say: "HI, MUM, I'M ON THE INTERNET!" That said, I must now report on the Valencia Grand Prix, that was less interesting than the previous exclaim.
I would love to give you dramatic details, white-knuckle rides, but sadly, I cannot decide whether I should report on my dogs' sleep instead, or the adventure I had with a small bird my wife brought home the day before yesterday, which refused to eat most of the time and ended up being dead by this afternoon as I took it down under a bush this morning, in the hope its mother may find it.
After such shocking details, something more horrific is to come.
To remain factual, I am obliged to report that a man named Vettel won the race. We happy, Vincent? Alright, take a cross, move on.
First of all can someone please define for me what the European Grand Prix stands for? I know there have been races like the Pacific Grand Prix and so on, but why is it good apart from a country advertising itself and bringing money into F1, or am I just being too naive here?
For example, Italy loves F1. Or Ferrari, so to speak, and they used to have two Grand Prix events during the same year, with San Marino being a scapegoat for that (mind that: I would love to see Ferraris being pushed down San Marino's hill sometime, just for the laugh). If Italy wasn't the "I" in PIGS, I'm sure they would have four F1 races by now. One Italian, one San Marino, one European and one Vatican Grand Prix. I'd love that latter one. Seriously. If Vallelunga wouldn't be up for the challenge, then some burnouts could still be done under the Pope's window.
Okay, so a "European" GP doesn't make sense, we know it by now, but what about a race in Valencia? Yes, Alonso is a two-times champion, so the same reasons as above, but why the STREETS of Valencia when the town already has a racetrack?
For the beautiful backdrops? They are all covered by guardrails and it's a commercial harbour, anyway. For the money? They are the "S" in PIGS, so maybe not. For the exciting races? Zzzzzzzz. I know! It's the sea! The only problem is that there are thousands of miles of Mediterranean coast still there, and Monaco still beats it with that one too, so that’s another fail right there. Valencia is not the Long Beach of Monaco, right? (WTF?!). To put it simply, streets and Tilke don't mix. Nor shaken, nor stirred, not even in Bucharest, Romania.
Someone said about the Hungaroring circuit (must be an important person if I remember this) that it is like Monaco, just without the houses. To be frank, the only cool thing about the Monaco circuit is the houses, otherwise it would be a rubbish track for F1, just as the Hungaroring (you read this from a Hungarian, remember). So the Valencia circtuit is a Tilke track with all the mentioned "houses" hidden behind walls.
A truly epic fail.
So how was the race? édsouhböe59tÍŰÚÜS
Sorry. sléguűwőö3
Sorry, I fell asleep again.
So Vettel won, Pirellis were wearing out, Schumacher almost ignited WWIII bumping the Russian Petrov from behind. A Ferrari and a Lotus almost crashed into each other, too (too bad it didn't happen, they would have been the new Vanwall) and all cars made it to the end, that is almost unprecedented in the history of F1.
The problem is, that cheaty DRS just didn't work here, not even for Webber to entertain us with a back flip. The Turkish GP put the standard for overtaking excitement so high, that every single race will be measured by it for quite a while.
What we saw was a Schumacher race from the early noughts. Even Lewis Hamilton admitted that, following the same train of thought, concluding that Vettel will be a World champion again, sooner or later, why should he himself be bothered anymore this year, only to state the opposite this morning (Lewis, Twitter is faster than the print shop. Can you confirm you UNDERSTOOD this message...?)
To be frank (Hi, I'm Frank Vajda), I don't give a penny on what's happening in F1 now. And the reason for this is the DRS and the new tyres. Do I want to watch a several hundred bucks-worth piece of carbon fibre and a set of rubber entertain me?
FIA, just say this is F1 for this year, with all honesty, and I will bow down with all respect. Until that, bring on WEC, so at least there would be a real reason to tweet during races other than getting bored to death by all the artificial amendments you try to squeeze into F1.
The FIA European GP In @Bateman1972’s Words
Well said Frank. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Well, I could. Only it would have taken far too long, and I still have to write about the new series of Top Gear and other such exciting, unpredictable motoring-related pap before our editorial deadline.
So what was my take on this non-event you ask? Read on....
So that was the race that wasn't then. Or as it was billed in the Radio Times, The Formula One European Grand Prix from Valencia. The single most, joylessly futile waste of my time and electricity that I have ever had the rank misfortune to find myself sitting through. Yes. Thankfully I was – and remained – seated throughout the televisual ordeal, never once inching myself closer to the edge of my seat. I only wish I could have mustered the energy to reach for the off button, but by that stage any last vestiges of will power had fled my boredom-ravaged body.
So you're probably asking – and for those of you who missed it, the DVD will make an ideal Christmas present for those you hate most in your life – what made the European GP such 'must watch' TV for a Sunday afternoon? That somewhere in the region of 5m viewers believed would be a good way to avoid Britain's intolerably hot one day summer. The answer of course is lost forever, to anyone who witnessed the spectacle. And therein, missed the glorious weather here in the UK to sit indoors, slumped over a laptop, eyes narrowing to pass 'live', dare I say it, 'real time' subversive comment and ill-informed judgement on a race that even normally doesn't exactly set the Formula One world on fire. Having said that, a spot of deliberate arsonery (is there any other type?) might have provided something exciting to discuss.
I guess it was inevitable, that given the exhilarating nature – albeit by accident rather than design – of the last F1 outing at Canada a fortnight since, that the next episode in the FIA's primary race calendar would be a damp squib by comparison. And so it was, if you excuse the fishy pun. Although that's something that the BBC didn’t apologize for as its commentary team ensured that viewers knew that the buildings housing the manufacturer's pit lane garages were once fish processing factories. Still, when the race itself threw up as many interesting flash-points you could understand Humphries and co wanting to up the ante. Or head to the nearby beach and top up their tans.
As you are only too well aware, the Valencia circuit – make the most of it, we doubt we'll be seeing it again anytime soon as an F1 venue – is a street circuit, like Monaco. Only NOTHING like Monaco. Admittedly, there were a few super yachts moored up, but other than that the backdrop was one of heavy industry. Cranes and other gargantuan lifting devices. And then there was a bit of a beach. And a drawbridge. The latter forming part of the circuit. If Monte Carlo brings Hollywood to Formula 1, then Valencia surely brings Holywell to the party. Which to the uninitiated is a place in North Wales that's as far removed from Los Angeles as it's possible to be. Geographically, culturally, diagnostically, ruefully....Although it did give rise to ITV children's presenter, Gaz Top. Anyway, I digress. Something which I seemed to do for the entirity of the European Grand Prix just to help time pass that much quicker. At one stage I remember challenging someone to an impromptu game of I-Spy, only they got SeBASTARD Vettel in a flash. Which none of the drivers were capable of.
For us here at MotorSpurts however, it was meant to offer the start of a bright and brave new dawn of Tweet-casting. Not sure if that's an expression we can coin as yet, but we like it, so it stays. You'll soon discover that about the team here at MotorSpurts. What we say, pretty much goes. If you don't like it, try reading another blog that's more to your tastes. Ones that don't express opinion or the darker side of humour. Unlike the rest of motor racing society, we ain't gonna kiss Bernie's sweetcheeks. His daughter's now, that's a different story.
So, to the 2011 European GP itself, and the veritable smorgasbord of race highlights. After careful, post-GP scrutiny, we found the following nuggets to remind ourselves just why Formula One can be so dull.
Michael Schumacher's front spoiler/splitter released itself from the front of his car after some sort of collision with Petrov that I actually failed to see as I was texting/tweeting at the time of the supposed 'action'. Yet have been reliably informed this 'event' took place sometime during the course of the European GP. And that the Russian driver didn’t seem particularly bothered by the incident. Schumacher pitted and had a new nose cone fitted, and off he toddled. Yawn.
Vettel recreating THAT famous Meg Ryan scene as he realised he'd done enough to win the race. I.e, drive 57 laps without being overtaken or break sweat. Yawn. (Unfurling of my simian-like arms aloft as I stretched)
The pit lane babes forming a stairway to heaven, or rather, to the podium for the lucky winners. Hey, wake up dude! What’s happening here?! Did someone say pit lane babes??!!
Almost losing my BBC iPlayer connection three times during the course of the race. In the end I had to unplug my laptop to make both the pictures and sound go away. Cue any sort of physical movement/interfacing betwixt myself and the race pictures being beamed live to my laptop.
The continual prospect of the F1 safety car being deployed. Only it remained just a prospect, as the sky stubbornly stayed cloudless throughout the ordeal, sorry, race. Yawn.
As far as I recall Vettel only made the one pit stop. And by that stage he was so far ahead of the field he had time to go for a slash, leaf through some top shelf German porn mags AND purchase a couple of CDs he'd been promising himself for a while. I think David Hasslehoff's greatest hits package was one of them. Yawn, belch. Oops. Sorry.
He now leads the Driver's Championship by a whopping 77 points and won't be beaten. Just like Max Mosely promised his long-suffering wife recently.
Is that it? Can I leave the room now Frank? I can’t feel my legs anymore. Frank? Be sure to tune in next time as we turn to the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to salvage our badly damaged love affair with F1........
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
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