What if F1 Drivers did diaries?
Got drunk. Fell asleep. Woke up. Hit snooze. Staggered out of bed. Showered. Ate. Changed Robin’s nappies. Sex with Minttu. Gym. Phone call with Arrivabene. Meet mother. Urine test. Phone call with Seb. Repeat.
He’ll probably elaborate too much on certain aspects of his day, so he’ll never reveal what he really enjoys doing in his spare time (watching porn, annoying Hanna & his secret Batmobile). He’ll talk endlessly about his cooking session with Kimi where they cook a lobster, but Kimi burns the mashed potatoes. He’ll talk how wonderful his family is and distract us with drivel.
#Blessed. #AyrtonSenna. #TeamLH. #LH44. #SavourChrist #Roscoe&Coco.
These are the six hashtags of the blessed one’s life. He actually has a fortnightly column on the BBC F1′s website, but it’s full of the usual corporate claptrap. However, if you could confide into his real diary, it’ll be full of his stories of trying to woo Rihanna, Gigi Hadid, Kendall Jenner & A. N. Other. He’ll sob over a romantic memory from his failed relationship with Nicole Scherzinger and partially blame himself for it. Some weird analogy about how Senna will guide me through the darkness will appear randomly.
Lewis is a such a dick. He think he’s Formula One’s answer to Tiger Woods & David Beckham, but he’s too slow when it comes to foreplay with girls. He’s certainly not got model looks, he’s still that snotty geek who used to play chess with me when our mechanics worked on our karts.
Quite bitter, isn’t he? Sadly, when I see him bitch and moan in press conferences, it’s clear to see that the blessed one has been living rent-free inside Rosberg’s grey matter since that incident at 2014 Belgian Grand Prix. He’ll mention how his girlfriend and mother try to cheer him up with visits to Gucci and Hugo Boss, but that empty feeling of being the blessed one’s bitch scuppers his joy daily.
Greetings minions. My Samurai powers will overcome the deficiencies of my turd of a McLaren Honda.
The enigmatic Spaniard would probably write a load of nonsense about everything that has gone wrong is not his fault. He’ll probably fill in a very awkward diary entry about how Lara Alvarez once screamed “Sergio!” during an intense session of sex. Football fans amongst you will know Lara used to go out with Sergio Ramos, but Fernando will admit to committing to their relationship solely due to the quality of intercourse she provides.
Jenson would probably treat us to an insight of his training he undertakes for triathlons. The grim details of the physiotherapy administered to his groin will be laid out and he’ll admit his bike has faster acceleration than his McLaren-Honda.
Daniel Ricciardo & Daniil Kvyat
The two Red Bull boys probably share a diary together. Both of them boast of their beer pong PBs, only to discover Kimi Raikkonen set the Guinness World Record for this ten years ago.
My son Felipinho must have ADHD! He never ever sits down! He even pulled down Anna’s blouse this morning! What a cheeky little scamp!
Ron Dennis keeps telling me of the prodigious talent I have and how he bought five drinks for Jacques Villeneuve when he compared Jenson to a boyband member! He keeps telling me I’m first priority for one of the race seats if Jense or Nando vacated one of them, regardless of how well Stoffel does in GP2.
Would probably rant about how he’s old enough to deal with F1 by himself and how he wishes his constantly angry dad Jos would leave him alone.
gummygunk
stormborns
dededos
dailybridgerton
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