HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY FELLOW RACERS!
12-22-2006, 11:49 AM
#1
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY FELLOW RACERS!
I just wanted to wish everyone a MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEWYEAR! and guys be careful on the road with Mr. DWI.Holidays tend to bring out the ass-hole in some people.
If you must drink and drive drink pepsi!
If you must drink and drive drink pepsi!
12-22-2006, 05:39 PM
#2
Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas to you and yours!
From your friends at RC Pro
From your friends at RC Pro
12-23-2006, 06:23 AM
#3
Tech Regular
very nice thred
Merry Christmas and a HAPPY NEWYEAR! to all fellow racers
from the crew @ PNP HOBBIES HO HO HO
from the crew @ PNP HOBBIES HO HO HO
12-24-2006, 04:53 AM
#5
Tech Apprentice
merry x-mas to all and to al a good new year
12-24-2006, 12:58 PM
#6
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Garage
Not a tool was stirring, not even a wrench.
The exhaust was hung on the chassis with care,
In hopes that the NASCAR Official soon would be there.
The pit crew was nestled all snug in the hauler,
While visions of lug nuts danced in their heads;
And the car owner in his RV and me in my pits
Had just settled down for a long tech inspection,
When out of turn four there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the pit box to see what was the matter.
Away to the pitwall I flew like a flash,
Tore my uniform and trip on a hose
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hauler , and eight tiny race cars,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Good Year Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dodge! now, Chevy! now, Pontiac and Ford!
On, Olds! on Mercury! on, Buick and Olymouth!
To the top of the press box! to the top of the scoring tower!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the garage-top the coursers they flew,
With the hauler full of tools, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The racing and squealing of each slick tire.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the air vent St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in a fire suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and gook;
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were red like header pipes, his nose like a lugnut!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wheel;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the toolboxes; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the air vent he rose;
He sprang to his hauler, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all dove like a green flag had flown.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Not a tool was stirring, not even a wrench.
The exhaust was hung on the chassis with care,
In hopes that the NASCAR Official soon would be there.
The pit crew was nestled all snug in the hauler,
While visions of lug nuts danced in their heads;
And the car owner in his RV and me in my pits
Had just settled down for a long tech inspection,
When out of turn four there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the pit box to see what was the matter.
Away to the pitwall I flew like a flash,
Tore my uniform and trip on a hose
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hauler , and eight tiny race cars,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Good Year Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dodge! now, Chevy! now, Pontiac and Ford!
On, Olds! on Mercury! on, Buick and Olymouth!
To the top of the press box! to the top of the scoring tower!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the garage-top the coursers they flew,
With the hauler full of tools, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The racing and squealing of each slick tire.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the air vent St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in a fire suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and gook;
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were red like header pipes, his nose like a lugnut!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wheel;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the toolboxes; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the air vent he rose;
He sprang to his hauler, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all dove like a green flag had flown.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
12-24-2006, 03:13 PM
#7
Originally Posted by dlarry
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Garage
Not a tool was stirring, not even a wrench.
The exhaust was hung on the chassis with care,
In hopes that the NASCAR Official soon would be there.
The pit crew was nestled all snug in the hauler,
While visions of lug nuts danced in their heads;
And the car owner in his RV and me in my pits
Had just settled down for a long tech inspection,
When out of turn four there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the pit box to see what was the matter.
Away to the pitwall I flew like a flash,
Tore my uniform and trip on a hose
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hauler , and eight tiny race cars,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Good Year Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dodge! now, Chevy! now, Pontiac and Ford!
On, Olds! on Mercury! on, Buick and Olymouth!
To the top of the press box! to the top of the scoring tower!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the garage-top the coursers they flew,
With the hauler full of tools, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The racing and squealing of each slick tire.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the air vent St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in a fire suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and gook;
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were red like header pipes, his nose like a lugnut!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wheel;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the toolboxes; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the air vent he rose;
He sprang to his hauler, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all dove like a green flag had flown.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Not a tool was stirring, not even a wrench.
The exhaust was hung on the chassis with care,
In hopes that the NASCAR Official soon would be there.
The pit crew was nestled all snug in the hauler,
While visions of lug nuts danced in their heads;
And the car owner in his RV and me in my pits
Had just settled down for a long tech inspection,
When out of turn four there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the pit box to see what was the matter.
Away to the pitwall I flew like a flash,
Tore my uniform and trip on a hose
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hauler , and eight tiny race cars,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Good Year Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dodge! now, Chevy! now, Pontiac and Ford!
On, Olds! on Mercury! on, Buick and Olymouth!
To the top of the press box! to the top of the scoring tower!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the garage-top the coursers they flew,
With the hauler full of tools, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The racing and squealing of each slick tire.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the air vent St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in a fire suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and gook;
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were red like header pipes, his nose like a lugnut!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wheel;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the toolboxes; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the air vent he rose;
He sprang to his hauler, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all dove like a green flag had flown.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
YOU HAVE TOOOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS! GOOD ONE, MERRY X-MAS!
12-24-2006, 04:09 PM
#9
12-24-2006, 09:57 PM
#11
Cast off ye materialistic desires. Join us at the Festivus pole.. 
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