Nothing but children here ..lol
I sincerely hope you're trolling, as I'd hope nobody could be as stupid, careless, and unconcerned as someone who would actually think this is something to be proud of/joke about.
Bumping this up!
Still waiting on the tutorial....really hoping to do this over the weekend.
My boy also has some rust starting...I gave him my dremel to get the old stuff out. How do we make that bend?
I've got an old plastic trapper keeper from school, this will work right?
Thanks to OP that is likely flushed down the drain...that is if they ever let me back through the doors.
I had 1600 tickets saved up for that mini lava lamp for my room too...what the heck am i supposed to do with those.
He assured me this was an effective repair. I trusted him......
I probably shouldnt have cause I got everything back together and went for a drive.
Car is now in the impound lot....lost my job at chuckies. Mom might kick me out of the basement.
rabbitman i hope you have a spare bedroom...ill need a place to stay.
I began to notice strange puddles and spots in my driveway. I know oil leaks, my dad was responsible for the BP(or Exxon Valdez) mess, and this wasn’t oil. It was also strange because I had these spots appearing and my car was slowly getting better fuel economy and accelerating faster. I decided to do the only sensible thing I could. I joined the biggest Honda forum I could and started trolling because my VW was so cool. I was on a roll and couldn’t stop, though my mechanic credited that to my brake system having no fluid in it. Since my mechanic turned into a hater, and I knew more than he would ever know, I decided to take up wrenching on my own ride.
At this point in time, I just turned 17 and my parents told me when I saw Transformers years ago, that I would have a 5th gen Camaro when I turned 17. I thought it’d be time to get rid of my dub and get the $25,000 car every kid seems to have in America. But since my dad tried to kill the gulf and my mom drives a Prius, they got a divorce. I had to stay with my mom because my dad decided to go live in a van down by the river. My mom’s yoga friend was going to hook me up with a job with her husband’s construction company because my mom wanted me to get a real job. I decided to quit school early and she was tired of me supposedly spending all my time on 4-chan and playing 360. Since I didn’t have any money to buy tools to work construction, my grumpy old neighbor actually helped me out. He’s a d-bag though, because he only owns Fords.
Well the construction deal didn’t last long because my boss had a smoking hot daughter, who like her mother, ran around in yoga pants all the time. I didn’t know about it until after a week, when I saw them show up on a job site to say hello to my boss. I chubbed up instantly at the sight of two hott blondes in yoga pants, so I had to text all my bro’s about these fine foxes. Well it turns out, my one broski knows the boss’s daughter and she has a video of her running around in yoga pants. So I sneak into the port-a-john and load the video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yd1aqy7wkqU on my iPhone. Well there I was fapping like crazy to that fine girl when my boss opens the door to port-a-john. I was too excited to remember to lock the door, and he wound up getting covered in skeet skeet. He started flipping out about me fapping at work, and I was like, it’s your daughter’s fault for wearing yoga pants! Then he chased me off the site trying to shoot me with a DeWalt nail gun and screaming I was fired. I laughed at him because I knew it couldn’t shoot nails, that’s when he picked up a 2x4. He beat me to the left, he beat me to the right, and I told him I was going to fap to his daughter all night.
With no job, my mom threatened to take the tv out of my room, so I decided to become a street racer for a career. I bought a V6 Mustang and thought about putting a 572 under the hood to pawn all the opponents I would have. I could never win a race though, so I couldn’t get the bank to buy that engine. I blame it all on Ford’s and how much they suck. I also managed to get my license suspended because I raced a d-bag in a Ford 5000, who reported me to the police. My mom made me sell that POS Rustang and start going to church to get the Lord’s help. When I started going to church, that’s where I met the local manager of Chuckie Cheese’s, and he said he’d set me up with a job.
Since I got a job and my mom was back to being chill with me, **** was going pretty tight. I got a brand new 26” Huffy for my birthday to get back and forth to work on, and I pimped that bitch out. Put some mirrors on the bars, laid down a sick chrome paint job and put a Schwinn body kit on it. It was the coolest thing since sliced bread and I was still fapping to my old boss’s daughter, life was perfect.
Since I had a nice whip, a ballin’ job and dough to blow, I decided I needed an actual girl in my life. You know, fapping it to yoga girl was cool and all, but I wanted a relation**** really bad. I got online to those dating sites, but a lot of them wanted you to pay, and I don’t roll that way. So I was hooking up with girls on those free sites, and met the girl of my dreams in Williamsport, Pa. After a solid 8 months of talking to her online, I knew she was the one, so I decided to bike up there one weekend to spend some time with her. Only problem was she was 409W away according to my chevymotors atlas, but I knew this girl wanted me, so challenge accepted. She sends me her address to my Razor, iPhone wound up being a piece of **** thanks to the construction job, and I’m off like a prom dress.
I made it 10 minutes from my house and I was out of steam, so I decided to hitch hike. I almost got run over by some dude in a semi who fell asleep behind the wheel, he woke up just in time to miss me by inches. The driver pulled into Double Deuces parking lot, the local watering hole, and started apologizing. Dude said he saw a black dog or something like that, and I told him to give me a lift to Williamsport or I’d call the cops because he didn’t have his CDL. He threw my bike in his sleeper and we were on the way. The guy tries to make small talk and asks me if I’ve ever been to Shakytown, so I punch him in the jeans, because nobody makes fun of Michael J. Fox in front of me. Next thing I know, we are going over a cliff because he let go of the steering wheel and everything went black.
I wake up in the back of an ambulance, and the EMT told me I was lucky to be alive. I told her the only way I’d stay alive was if I was transported to 200 Reach Road, Williamsport ASAP. She told the driver my instructions, and that’s when he cracked open the nitrous tank under his seat for such situations. The 175 shot sent the stretcher to back quicker than you can say “fuuuuuuu” and no lie, the front wheels had to leave the ground for at least 10 minutes. We made it to Williamsport in 20 minutes and I gave the driver a 20 to stick around. I composed myself, combed my hair and rang the doorbell of my dream girl’s building. At this point in time, I noticed the aroma of feces was in the air, I looked around for some kind of poop whore that would be the source. I saw nothing, and then realized I had done something horrible, I shat myself during that nitrous launch. Frozen with fear, too late to dive in the bushes, the door opened and I was greeted by a bearded chick. Turns out the love of my life wasn’t that 5’5 120lb bombshell I thought she was. I started heaving everywhere and she slipped on my puke and wound up knocking herself out on the tile floor. At this time, I knew I had to dart out the door before she awoke, and that’s what I did.
I managed to find some change and hunted around for a pay phone to call my mom for help. That’s when I realized…pay phones don’t exist anymore! I began crying deeply, while saying I did my best, and sat down on the sidewalk. My sniffling was short lived because a Dodge Caravan pulled up to me and the driver looked like this actor who had his hot wife leave him. He said he wanted to take his daughter to a Chuckie Cheese’s to seem like a good guy in the tabloids, so I said I can direct you to the nearest one if you give me a ride. The deal was sealed with shake, and I was his co-pilot, so we set off back to my hometown. Guy was kinda weird though, kept muttering about how he wasn’t going to let me die like his last co-pilot. I kept it together and 6 hours later we rolled into my town, I thanked him for the ride and hurried home.
I was back home and safe finally, but since my adventure, I lost my sweet bike and mom wouldn’t buy me a new one. She told me I should fix up my old Jetta and drive that to work because my license would be coming back any day. My boys and me dug that car outta the weeds in my yard and started working on it. Shaved the exterior, some BBS rims, 10% tint, lambo doors, swapped in a VR6 in place of my 2.slow and realized at that point my strut tower needed help. That’s when I stumbled across this thread, so I did what the OP recommended, because like I said, I was on the way to promotion land. I followed his exact instructions and then took it out for a ride.
I didn’t even make it out my driveway without getting stares from everyone. They made me feel like a celebrity, I was feeling good again. I made my way downtown, where every day is like H2Oi, and let the Honda boys know what was up. At a red light, I decided to start burning my rear tires; yeah that’s right, rear tires. I converted to RWD when I used to run an LSX under the hood before LS swaps were cool(hipster). I let off the brake when the light turned green and started picking up speed. Next thing I know, I crashed into a condo, and this is where it gets crazy. Remember those weird spots/puddles in my driveway I used to have? Well I sent to be analyzed a while ago and they were rust deposits, whatever that meant. Well when I hit the condo, my car pretty much turned into dust and the condo was unharmed. The cops showed up with a dustpan and broom and impounded my shell, and a rollback got my drivetrain. So that’s my story, nuff said.