(She just keeps getting better!)

Take away the M&Ms, I'm tellin' ya - Farmington Daily Times
Address:http://www.daily-times.com/sports/ci_9292175

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SPORTSSunday, May 18, 2008 

Take away the M&Ms, I'm tellin' ya
By Dorothy Nobis The Daily Times
Article Launched: 05/17/2008 02:47:24 AM MDT


I'm gonna ask one more time, will someone puulleese check to see what's
in the M&Ms Kyle Busch is eating before every doggone race?

I'm convinced someone is putting AMP in Busch's little chocolate
candies. It's either AMP or Sunoco fuel (which gives him a little gas).
One or the 'nother.

Busch's win at Darlington last week was not a good way to start my
Mother's Day weekend. The Perfect Children took me to a really nice
restaurant the night of the race (they don't take me out in public much,
and after Saturday night, they threatened to never, ever, EVER take me
out again, at least when there's a NASCAR race on. Whatever), and I was
forced to watch the end of the race from way far away from the nearest
television.

I found out later, the PC requested that table on accounta they hoped if
I couldn't see the race, dinner would be better for everyone, 'specially
the other customers.
We were nearing dessert when the 18 car took the checkered flag. I had
contained myself pretty well (I only stood up and screamed once before
the restaurant manager said if I couldn't sit down and behave, he was
gonna make me eat in the kitchen (of the restaurant next door) and
really tried to make nice for the Perfect Children.

I kept my mutterings to myownself, and acted like I was interested in
the PC's conversation, even though I was straining to hear the
television. I think, at one point, they were talking about finally
giving me a grandchild, which under ordinary circumstances, would have
my undivided attention.

But this was, I remind you, Darlington.

I can only hope when and if they follow through and give me a grandbaby,
it's not born during a race. Note to self: talk to PC about the time of
conception and remind them summer is the best time to have babies.

When Busch took the win, I choked on my crème brulee, took a big
slug of my white zin, and fell to the floor in a fetal position. I
gasped for air, then gasped for more white zin, then asked them to
please put the crème brulee on the floor so's I could finish it. No
sense in wasting a really good crème brulee, yaknowhadimean?

I thought I handled the whole thing pretty well, since the restaurant
manager comped our meals, even though he did so only with a promise from
the PC that they would never, ever bring me back. I pretty much thought
that was mean and hateful of him, and started to tell him that when the
Perfect Child stuffed a napkin in my mouth and ushered me out the door.
I woulda been mad, except it was the napkin I used to sop up the white
zin I spilled when I jumped up and screamed the first time, and white
zin that has aged for an hour isn't bad.

I'm still mad at Busch for deliberately spinning Junior out of the race
at Richmond. I know there will be a couple of you who will say it wasn't
Busch's fault, but it was. And as a card-carrying member of Junior
Nation, I will defend my General until the end. I did, though, feel
sorry for Busch's mom, who was introduced with her Busch Boys during
driver introductions. Kyle was booed (a lot) by fans, and it really
isn't her fault her younger son has yet to learn humility or
likeability.

Kyle Busch can drive. That was apparent when he overcame stuff during
the race that would have discouraged any great driver. He bounced off
the wall and he dropped back into the 29th spot when his pit crew left a
lug nut off a wheel. Fueled by whatever they put in his M&Ms, the kid
managed to fight back and win. I don't havta like Kyle Busch (and I
don't) but ya gotta admire his talent. I just wish his Mom'd teach him
some manners. He's arrogant and insufferable, ya know.

The first part of the race wasn't easy for me, neither. There my sweet
Baboo was, in seventh place at like, lap three, when he and Tony Stewart
got together. Elliott Sadler, who will love me when he knows me, said it
was his fault and ended up in the garage. Tony, who might like me if he
knew me, finished 21st, but didn't say anything mean and hateful about
my sweet Baboo, which is a good thing because that would give me no
place to shop for my home-improvement needs. (Jimmie Johnson, who drives
the Lowe's car, took out Elliott Sadler several years ago and has yet to
apologize for it, and while I did not shop at Lowe's for any of those
years, I'm trying to forgive and forget and move on, but it's not easy,
let me tell ya.)

Speaking of Elliott Sadler, my NASCAR buddy, Kent from Ohio, sent me a
story about Elliott that said he's thinking about becoming a country
singer. Elliott claims he sings country songs when he's racin', and
thinks his second career could very well take him to Nashville and on to
the Grand Ole Opry.

I'm thinkin' that could be a wise move, but only if he'd invite Ward
Burton and me to sing along. No one could understand Elliott or Ward, on
accounta they have that Virginia accent that's so very cute, but it
wouldn't matter. They could be called "Big and Little" and I could tap
dance in the background. We could all wear outfits like Dolly Parton and
Porter Wagner wore in the olden days. I really think we'd be a huge hit.

I can't sing, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn last night and I did take
beginning tap dance lessons, even though I was held back and havta take
'em again. I can do a mean step-ball-chain and phlap as part of my
tappin'. Just ask my teacher, the ever-so-nice Debbie, who said the only
reason she held me back is cuz I'll be a good example for the next
beginning tappers. I so love being a role model.

All-Star race is tonight. I can't wait. I've voted for Elliott Sadler a
gazillion times to be the driver voted in by fans. I also attempted to
write in Ward Burton and Dick Trickle, but the poll didn't recognize
'em. Whatever.

Junior will win, followed by Elliott Sadler, followed by Dale Jarrett,
who's gonna drive the truck. Go, Dale, go - give the keys to Ward
Burton.

Whatever it takes......