Yes, I am still painting, and how? Like I was born to do it. But today I am breaking radio silence due to observations of highest value.
The first one is this: My, my, my, how the gods of Formula One are fickle! Only a few races ago, the name of Kimi RÃ¤ikkÃ¶nen was on everyone’s lips like a fresh mint after a really lovely dinner. After Monaco, he’s stinking like shit. This was the worst Icemanic performance I have ever seen. First, a lousy start. Second, a lousy speed. Third, speed still lousy. Fourth, getting outclassed by the Force India of Adrian Sutil. Fifth, ass-banging the same gentleman. Sixth, losing the championship lead. Not bad for a day’s work, Kimi.
Another one of these valuable observations is: why is Heikki Kovalainen getting all the freaky voodoo to no fault of his own while Lewis Hamilton can slam the barriers, lose one of his wheels, yet barely even lose time in the process, go on to an easy win? Huh? Who makes these equations of kismet? I need to know. Because we need to talk.
And another half of one: Adrian Sutil, also regarded as the slowest dude in F1, was driving for his life today. His season up to this point has been one that can diplomatically only be described as lackluster. However, here, in a moist Monaco, Adrian drove like a man possessed. I became so enamored that I started rooting for the ripping Force India driver to beat the mighty Ferrari of Kimi RÃ¤ikkÃ¶nen. You never thought you’d hear me say that, did you? Sadly, everyone I root for gets their heart broken in the end, and poor underdog Adrian was no exception. Tankslapped, one might say.
What else? Sweet mother Maria, I love the Monaco Grand Prix. Heck, I love Monaco per se, everything about it, the geriatric youth, the champagne-induced murmur, the poodle-poop chasing people dressed in ultramarine, the sexiness that is overbearing to a point of becoming unsexy which in turn is really really sexy, the supervirtuality of an existance completely cinematic among Myannightmarian madness and the latest ecological disaster threating us with yet another extinction, yes, there is no question about it, heading for the brink that leads to the edge from where the view is nice as you fall is best done from a yacht harbored in Monaco.
It is true what I say: Oblivion can only be found in the most expensive of places.