I heard Danica trained for the Indy 500 by circling around the mall parking lot for hours trying to get the closest space. (jk)
I heard she would have won, but pulled over to ask for directions on lap 190. (rv)
I heard the other drivers got out of her way, thought she was on her cell phone. (tb)
The other drivers were confused because she had her right turn blinker on the entire race. (rv)
She would have won it if she didn't decide to apply her makeup in the rearview mirror during the final few laps. (jk)
Apparently, some of the other drivers complained because she cried her way out of a black flag. (ks)
She would have won if she didn't have to drop off the kids for soccer practice. (jk)
She would have won if not for the tactical error of getting a manicure during a pit stop. (jk)
Critical error, stopping on lap 128 to put on different colored flame-retardant jumpsuit, then having to find matching shoes. (rv)
Couldn't resist stopping for Memorial Day Sale at Bloomingdale's. (jk)
Left her purse on the roof of the car at the start, and had to go back to get it. (tb)
Too busy looking for her husband's credit card to pay for her gas. (tb)
Car was a bit sluggish since last tune-up was 87,000 miles ago. (rv)
Biggest obstacle to overcome: helmet hair. (jk)
Refused to wear white jumpsuit, thought it made her look too fat. (jk)
"Checkered" flag no longer in style, according to newest issue of Vogue magazine. (jk)
She ran out of gas because she missed the exit. (jk)
She rode her brakes for the entire race, affecting her speed just enough to lose. (ks)
She stopped abruptly and turned around because she "thought she ran over a woodchuck". (jk)
Uses a secret fuel additive to boost speed: nail polish remover. (jk)
ADDENDUM: Bill "Sports Guy" Simmons of ESPN2 fame made a good joke in his "mailbag" article about female drivers as well (he must have been reading this blog):
Q: Did you injure anything jumping on Danica Patrick's bandwagon this weekend?
– Jerry T., Roanoke, Va.
SG: I wrenched my neck a little but that was about it. Actually, my dad and stepmom were in town this weekend, and since my stepmom is a raging feminist, every time they showed the inside of Patrick's car, I muted the volume on the TV and pretended I was Patrick talking to her pit crew: "Look, I told you, I'm going as fast as I can! I can't drive when you're talking to me!!! Stop telling me how to drive!!! I'm going to pull over and get out right now, I swear to God!" That was more fun than the actual race.
(Come on, somebody has to make these jokes.)