Once upon a time – one would open one’s garage – start one’s puerile euro-shit-box, leave and go to work for another uninteresting, lifeless and bland day at the office.
No one cares… :-/
You drive along with countless other morons equally hell bent on another limp, debilitating, unimpressive day at work, only to always be second-banana in the business and accept your insubstantial and meager salary after all your brain cells have been mutated into the same questionable compound that makes up Pizza dough.
Maybe because, like me, you find yourself driving the automotive equivalent of an ash tray, or a sugar cube dispensary, or the place your wife keeps a 200 pairs of shoes. At least it has a little more horse power than a motorized pencil sharpener.
Now I bought, purchased, apprehended … or in my view, stole from the good ol US of A a piece of gorgeous Michigan history. (see below) made by REAL men, who drank strong beer, ate sandwiches 2 inches thick, could finish a 24oz steak, and could lift 500lbs of Detroit steel with their bare hands.
Now things have changed …and the assholes have come out.
I don’t mind someone waving or giving a thumbs up at my Green 351C propelled burbling chunk of excellence. (see below)
A honk of a horn perhaps – a big smile that says … “nice machine ... love it”! … “wish my humdrum, shitbox looked 10% as good and exciting as that!”
Now there is the dark side to having a car no one has seen in decades.
The mobile phone zombies not content with infecting the pavements - now infect the f**king roads as well. :-/
Some actually try to converse with me and hold long conversations, close to the length of a full board meeting.
So, here we are at 70Mph in the middle lane of a major highway wanting to have coffee and biscuits and discuss every little detail. …with a patrol car just six cars back. What mushrooms were they smoking before attempting car-o-batics like this?
The others are the f**k---tarded passenger with a phone (see above) (boy I hope I don’t get banned for this) … that have to lean their near whole body length from the window; the driver inching his euro-shit-box ever closer toward my side - in order to digitally record every tiny metal flake deeply embedded in my Forest Green paintwork. WTF ! ! ! ! !
I’d like you to tell me if you get this … and if there are evasive manoeuvres one can perform to swat these flies. :chin:
all the best
Al
No one cares… :-/
You drive along with countless other morons equally hell bent on another limp, debilitating, unimpressive day at work, only to always be second-banana in the business and accept your insubstantial and meager salary after all your brain cells have been mutated into the same questionable compound that makes up Pizza dough.
Maybe because, like me, you find yourself driving the automotive equivalent of an ash tray, or a sugar cube dispensary, or the place your wife keeps a 200 pairs of shoes. At least it has a little more horse power than a motorized pencil sharpener.
Now I bought, purchased, apprehended … or in my view, stole from the good ol US of A a piece of gorgeous Michigan history. (see below) made by REAL men, who drank strong beer, ate sandwiches 2 inches thick, could finish a 24oz steak, and could lift 500lbs of Detroit steel with their bare hands.
Now things have changed …and the assholes have come out.
I don’t mind someone waving or giving a thumbs up at my Green 351C propelled burbling chunk of excellence. (see below)
A honk of a horn perhaps – a big smile that says … “nice machine ... love it”! … “wish my humdrum, shitbox looked 10% as good and exciting as that!”
Now there is the dark side to having a car no one has seen in decades.
The mobile phone zombies not content with infecting the pavements - now infect the f**king roads as well. :-/
Some actually try to converse with me and hold long conversations, close to the length of a full board meeting.
So, here we are at 70Mph in the middle lane of a major highway wanting to have coffee and biscuits and discuss every little detail. …with a patrol car just six cars back. What mushrooms were they smoking before attempting car-o-batics like this?
The others are the f**k---tarded passenger with a phone (see above) (boy I hope I don’t get banned for this) … that have to lean their near whole body length from the window; the driver inching his euro-shit-box ever closer toward my side - in order to digitally record every tiny metal flake deeply embedded in my Forest Green paintwork. WTF ! ! ! ! !
I’d like you to tell me if you get this … and if there are evasive manoeuvres one can perform to swat these flies. :chin:
all the best
Al
Last edited by a moderator: