As if NASCAR couldn't whore themselves out any further, let me introduce, to go along with the official home improvement warehouse of NASCAR, the official chocolate bar of NASCAR and the official feminine hygiene product of NASCAR, comes the official office products of NASCAR, for all that filing and sorting I do at 197 mph. When's this cash-cow gonna die? I'm convinced that anyone that was a NASCAR fan twenty years ago has nothing to do with the sport today. I'm going out to get my Dale Jr paperclips right now. And as far as I know, NASCAR doesn't have an official feminine hygiene product, but I'm sure it's not far on the horizon.