Dearest Shannon,
Being a professional type lady like you are I reckon you prefer folks to focus on your work instead of your physical attributes. Allow me to do just that. You vocabulary is top notch. Half the words you choose are far beyond my comprehension (I got that one from the dictionary) but whenever you use big words I just seem to have this understanding. It’s almost like we have a connection that spans the differences in our levels of education. Unlike the others ladies that attend the race track this weekend, your conservative and professional choices of attire scream, I’m a reporter not some piece of eye candy for you ESPN viewing perverts. You ain’t out there wearing flashy or skimpy clothing trying to get noticed like some of them ladies that pour themselves into a four sizes too small tube top. I respect that. My ex old lady looked like a bag of leaves in a fire suit. You look like a crew member that snuck away from a team meeting just long enough to give us fans a little insider tidbit.
Another thing I fancy about you is that I can safely eat while watching your reports without losing my appetite. I remember several tailgates where I’ve almost lost my lunch after a herd of elephants in bikini tops and jean shorts moseys on by. I like that you wear you hair in a pony tail more times than not. Sure I dream of seeing you with your bangs all hairsprayed up in the air reaching for the sky but I appreciate the fact that you leave a little to the imagination. You bring a certain something that’s been missing from NASCAR reporting for oh so long. Nothing against Alan Beswick but he just don’t get my engine running if you catch my drift.
Now that I’ve primed you up like an engine that’s sat in the garage for the long winter, allow me to get to my point, Shannon Spake, I would like to ask you out on a date. I don’t know if you have a boyfriend but I’m putting myself out there for you. I ain’t some fancy lawyer or doctor that could easily gain the affections of a beauty such as yourself but I’m a hard working, red blooded American man that just wants a chance. Let me walk you through what you would have in store if you said yes.
First I would pick you up at whatever track we arrange. I would kart you off to my tailgate site where I would wine and dine you with the finest grilled fare you could ever dream of. My cousin Stoney is quite the cook and has honed his skills at the Golden Corral outside of
There it is
Sincerely,
Remington Chassis


2 responses so far ↓
1 jim spake // Jun 1, 2008 at 12:50 am
Nice try,hillbillies, but she’s my wife.
2 John Waylon // Apr 22, 2008 at 11:12 am
No way dude, shes my girlfriend already. Back off and whack off.
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