The Treadman

Sticking around Phoenix to make sure all the box car drivers have a BadYear.

If Will Power had my tires, he would have just run over the shitty coffee car.

I left a few presents in the pits for the Tire Chicken.

Side note, I’m having a BBQ at my house after the race. Having roasted chicken.

Don’t you dare bring your boring potato salad!

Mine can go all day and more importantly, all night.

The tire chickens are on the track again.

You don’t see my brother’s fat ass there.

But I am.

You really think Dixon’s wheel came off by itself?

Ever wonder why the French tire company gives out stars to fancy chefs??

It’s because my brother is a fat ass and lives to eat. He’s also cheaper than a TikToker with 50 followers who thinks they are an influencer.

My perfect Super Bowl commercial would be my tubby brother laughing hysterically while turning a spit with the tire ballon feet being roasted over a blazing fire. I’m sitting in the background sipping a fine whiskey ready kick my brother into the pit.

FYI:

The tire balloon has a bathroom.

Those feet finding fools are literally dumping shit on you during the races.

My pudgy brother only dumps in the car, like a normal racer.

You’ve been warned.

That’s not fog hovering over Daytona.

It’s the exhaust from all the vape pens being carted around by the influx of yuppies.

My tubby brother loves the spotlight.

Meanwhile, I’m in the shadows making sure one of the P2 cars bins it in turn 1 lap 1 of a 24 hour race.

Mission accomplished.

My brother doesn’t know how to read. He just sits there holding a book hoping to absorb by osmosis.

I told him he could start an OnlyTires page, but no one wants to see the Tire Chicken without their feathers.

I walk around shoving key lime pie into crew members’ faces.

I tell them it’s key lime pie…

I just passed a frumpy link.

My brother was bitten by a radioactive spider.

Instead of getting some cool superpowers, he just sits in the corner spraying race car tires with his new “webbing”.

Those new tires coming to IMSA and WEC are really my idea.

It happened after I watched Spiderman was spraying his webs on this woman’s boobs in a back alley in Queens.

Maybe it was some guy and a woman fucking on their car hood…

I was drunk. It was dark.

Anyway, webbed tires. You’re welcome.

New year, new me.

I resolve to strangle everyone who shows their face with some winged footed balloon nearby.

I will also punch my tubby brother in his goofy smile every chance I get.

I was already planning to paint “NudeYear” on the balloon. This might be easier.

Still looking to source a stinger missile.

There is a guy on TikTok who goes into NYC restaurants my brother gave stars to. He’s a Turk. What he doesn’t know is my brother is really a Kurd. Actually he’s a turd.

Anyway, the Turk is a nice guy. Leaves good tips. Be like the Turk.

I tried to give a star to Dirty Franks on 13th Street in Philly.

It was too clean.

My fat bastard brother gets to have all the best chefs pander to him.

It’s okay, I farted in the meringue.

Give that a star.

I’m somewhat sad to hear the tire chicken’s more likeable alter ego, the Murderhawk is hanging up his oversized helmet.

I hope they are able to enjoy retirement, no matter how short it may be…

In case you didn’t hear, my family is going to keep giving money to the racing series until 2035. Maybe by then, a certain German car company will decide to stick around for longer than your dad did after you were born.

It’s time for Petit Le Mans.

Can’t wait for Petit Le Ladies.

My brother might look like he is ready to fight on the screen, he’s a cuck.

Me? I will drop kick you faster than a fat guy at the Pizza Hut buffet.

My brother might not have gotten into a fight with the fire chicken, but I grilled his dumb red ass.

Tasted like victory.

My pig of a brother got to wave the green flag.

I got to fill his trailer with manure.

Pistols are so undignified…

I saw @murbanvideo.bsky.social asking who would win in a fight between my slob brother and the tire chicken…

I can tell you we’d be having guayule smoked wings for the paddock.

You didn’t see me in the Andretti pits this weekend…