The official protectors of The Intimidator

Dale Earnhardt Sr: You'll get nowhere with an attitude like that!

Me: ANYBODY WANT A DALE EARNHARDT SR FANFIC!!!!!!!!!! FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!!!!!

*Me: throws hat on the ground, a long look on my face*

Dale Earnhardt Sr: Why the long face?

Me: No one wants one cause I'm shit!!!

Inspo:

I know I haven't been on lately, but this past week and this week, I've had no motivation to do absolutely anything. I can't even sleep at night. I am shaken to the core about the death of Kyle Busch and the fact that he was only forty-one. FORTY-ONE. THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME. THAT COULD'VE BEEN YOU. Life is so fragile, and sometimes we forget just how quickly everything can change until tragedy hits us straight in the chest.

Lately, I've felt physically sick to my stomach. I have no appetite. I'm forcing myself to do the bare minimum just to get through the day. I may not have always been the biggest fan of Kyle, but grief doesn't care about rivalries or opinions. A loss like this shakes the entire NASCAR world. It reminds me so much of when Dale Sr died. Two legends. Two larger-than-life personalities. Both taken from us far too soon.

The hardest part for me to think about is his family. His wife. His friends. And especially his son. That little boy adored his dad. Kyle wasn't just a NASCAR driver to him — he was his hero, his role model, his biggest supporter, his best friend. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain of losing your father at such a young age, especially someone who was there for every moment, cheering you on, teaching you, loving you unconditionally.

It hurts seeing interviews, photos, old race clips, hearing radio communications, remembering all the moments people took for granted because nobody ever thinks the last race, the last interview, the last goodbye will actually be the last. That's the cruel thing about grief — it makes you replay everything differently.

I feel heartbroken. I feel devastated. I feel numb one second and like I want to throw up the next. The NASCAR community feels quieter now, emptier somehow. Whether you loved Kyle Busch or rooted against him every Sunday, you cannot deny the impact he had on the sport. He gave everything he had to racing. He was passionate, emotional, competitive, stubborn, talented, and unapologetically himself. There will never be another Kyle Busch.

Please hug your loved ones a little tighter tonight. Tell people you love them while you still can. None of us are promised tomorrow, and moments like this are a painful reminder of that.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND OUT IN THE WILD!!!!!!!!