Why We Choose To Race

During the dull winter months, the intrepid members of the Byte Marks racing team - like most LeMons racers we're quite sure - enjoy loading up our Rigby rifles, strapping on our pith helmets, kissing our sweethearts goodbye and heading off on a good, old-fashioned, rum-soaked safari. Why there's nothing more exciting than traveling to a faraway, exotic country, trampling its lush undergrowth and peppering its wildlife with .416 calibre ammunition. I must say its an adventure most capital! This year, however, proved even more extraordinary than usual. Whilst a-hunt in the darkest, most penetrating recesses of seductive Africa, we lads came across a beast most terrifying. Almost as powerful as 70 horses, with the grip of nearly 28 enraged hairless cats and possessing the downforce of a rather decent-sized mob of meerkats, the team had unwittingly come in contact with that most illusive creature... the DAK-CAR-I!! Striped like a zebra, with the head of a turkey and the bone-chilling whoop of a wounded badger, the DAK-CAR-I arms itself only with the fowl stench emanating from its hind quarters. Well, like all strapping lads we knew we must trap this incredible specimen. So, to make a long story short, we tied Andrey's girlfriend, Faye, to a tribal alter, waited for the hapless DAK-CAR-I to fall madly in love with her, pumped the brute full of tranquilizer, shipped it to America in the hold of a tramp steamer, suffered a unfortunate setback at the Empire State Building and since have brought the magnificent DAK-CAR-I here for exhibition in the middle west. We do most sincerely hope you'll allow us to thrill you with DAK-CAR-I's symphony of unusual parts and indescribable odors.


With a most resounding "Huzzah!", yours sincerely,

The Byte Marks Expeditionary Society




Friday, September 10, 2010

The Cart Before the Horse

Thanks to Byte Marks friend, Dave, at Rally Ready Racing - www.rallyready.com - we now have on order egg-cradling helmets, racing suits, flame retardant underwear (also handy for those with an active sex-life), manly gauntlets and tootsie-cooling booties. Tomorrow we start turning the Tracer into an honest-to-God race car. Which is good. Cuz we're gonna look awfully stoopid walking around in all this crap without a race car to get into.

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