Hotring Circuit / San Andreas Super Sport Series

Thinking about joining a cannibalistic boomer cult to liven up your weekends? Well, before you sign on the dotted line and get your junk out, try blowing out your speedometer above the Chiliad Mountain State Wilderness. When you feel your wheels spin fifty feet above the track lust for life is guaranteed. Plus, your life expectancy is several minutes longer than the average Altruist down below.

You know you'll do anything to liven up the nine-to-five. Like buckling into a Hotring stockcar, popping a Zombix, and careering through the twelfth story window of your biggest industry competitor screaming "How's that for market penetration??" and watching the stock tank in real time.

Inmates at the Bolingbroke Penitentiary can now reflect on their misdeeds to the meditative ambience of thirty juiced-up Hotringers tearing up the asphalt right outside. Sucks to be them, because there's no better way to flaunt your freedom than running rings around Cell Block 9.

An oval track, 30 wildly irresponsible drivers, and one finish line; there's a purity to stock car racing that's only matched by the purity of blue skies and mountain air. You see where this is going, right?

Pin-striped financier on the top floor of Maze Bank HQ during the week, wild-eyed stock car racer at the weekend. It's time to bring those two halves of your life together - just think of it as the best commute in the world.

Stock car racing is about two things: finding your line and sticking to it, alive or dead. And if you thought the survival rate on a classic oval circuit was low, this crisscross of multiple routes is going to blow your mind right out the back of your skull.

What could be more inspiring and aspirational than the run from the Vinewood Hills across downtown Los Santos towards that skyscraper skyline? As it turns out, only one thing. Just weld yourself inside a stock car, and join twenty-nine other lunatics doing it on loop.

The coast around Mount Gordo is one of the premier vacation spots in San Andreas. Not because of the clean air, blue waters and luscious forests - these days, it's the huge, garish, lethal stock car speedway that draws the crowds.

Don't have the budget for a Hydra? Want to barrel roll a Lazer but worried about your insurance premiums? All you need to recreate the experience is a busted Hotring Everon, a clear runway, and a cockpit full of misplaced confidence. Get ready to fry every military radar from here to San Chianski.

Until recently, the near-fatal air quality in La Mesa was put down to widespread petrochemical dumping. But the latest research suggests that the endless stream of deregulated stock cars through the lower atmosphere also has something to do with it. Just keep the windows closed - the acid rain's a bitch.

As you sit breathing in more carcinogens per cubic foot than you'll get anywhere else in the state, staring at the poorly reinforced track and lack of key safety barriers, it might occur to you that Hotring racing is really a very simple formula: Stockcars go in. Lawsuits come out. But think again: according to the fine print you waive your legal rights when you turn the ignition. Now get your head in the game.

It's the moment every stock car racer lives for. You accelerate into the corner, the track banks up to near vertical, and somehow you're held in place by a combination of pulverizing downforce and hysterical fear of death. Now throw in a few turbo strips and a wildly uneven surface, and you can really test that will to live

If you thought being in the middle of a pack of thirty stock cars moving at terminal speeds around a banked corner was a claustrophobic experience, you should try it with very high walls and nowhere to run. You can leave the beta blockers at home this time - they won't even take the edge off.

Purists will say that turbo-filled tubes, long jumps, and sea air have no place in stock car racing. But once you see the pure carnage get underway three seconds off the start line, there's only one conclusion: this is the only natural extension of the sport.

Who hasn't looked up from the smog of inner city Los Santos to find the Vinewood sign, sitting there on those iconic hills, and been struck by the missed opportunity for a really neat stock car speedway? It's just so obvious once you see it.

The health board wishes to remind participants that they accept no legal liability for any gastrointestinal symptoms resulting from bodily contact with the Cypress Flats water system. And if the untreated sewage doesn't turn your stomach, the rapid figure of eight just might. Pro tip: Bring some wet wipes.