Funny Story (long)
Thread Starter
|
Senior Member
Joined: Feb 2001
Posts: 204
Likes: 0
From: St Louis, MO
Funny Story (long)
So it's not a ford, but I still couldn't stop laughing....
____________________________________
I I borrowed my wife's Geo Metro last night. One liter of raw power, 3 cylinders of asphalt-tearing terror on thirteen-inch rims. It's stock, alright, nothing done to it, but it pushes the barely 2000 pounds of Metro around with AUTHORITY. I'm always catching mopeds and 18-wheelers by surprise.
I was headed back from Baskin Robbins with my manly triple-latte cappuccino blast ("No Cinnamon, ma'am, I take it black!"), when I stopped at a streetlight. As the Metro throbbed its throaty idle around me, I sipped my bold beverage and wiped the white froth my stiff upper lip. I was minding my own business, when I heard a rev from the next lane.
I turned, made eye contact, then let my eyes trace over the competition.
Ford Festiva - a late model, could be trouble. Low profile tires, curbfeelers, and schoolbus-yellow paint. Yep, a hot rod, for sure.
The howl of his motor snapped my reverie, and I looked back into the driver's eyes, nodded, then blipped my own throttle. As I tugged on my driving gloves and slipped on my sunglasses (gotta look cool to be fast, and I am damn cool...), the night was split with the sound of seven screaming cylinders.
Then the light turned... I almost had him out of the hole, my three pounding cylinders thrusting me at least a millimeter back into my seat, as smoke poured from my front right tire... my unlimited slip differential was letting me down! I saw in the corner of my eyes, a yellow snout gaining, and I heard the roar of his four cylinders. He slung by me, right front wheel juddering against the pavement, and he flashed me a smile as his .4 extra liters of motor stretched its legs. I kept my foot gamely in it though, waiting for the CHECK ENGINE light to blink on in the one-gage (no tachometer here!) instrument panel. I saw a glimpse of chrome under his bumper, and knew the ugly truth.
He was running a custom exhaust - probably a 2-into-1 dual exhaust...maybe even cutouts! Damn his hot-rod soul! The old lady passing us on the crosswalk cast a dirty look in our boy-racer direction.
Yet still I persisted, with my three pumping pistons singing a heady high-pitched song, wound fully out. Though only a few handfuls of seconds had passed, we were nearing the crosswalk at the other side of the intersection, and I heard the note of his engine change as he made his shift to second, and I saw his grin in his rearview mirror fade as he missed the shift! I rocketed by, shifting, and nursed the clutch gently in to keep from bogging, keeping my motor spinning hot and pulling me ahead, now trailing a cloud of stinking clutch smoke. Not ready to give up so easily, he left his foot in it, revving, and I heard one wheel almost chirp as he finally found second and dropped the clutch. We careened over the crosswalk, now going at least 15 miles per hour. A bicyclist passed us, but intent on the race as we were, neither of us batted an eye.
He pulled slowly abreast of me, and neck and neck, we made the shift to third, the scream of motors deafening all pedestrians within a five foot circle. He nosed ahead as we passed 30 miles an hour, then eased in front of me, taunting, as we shifted into fourth. I was staring up the dual 6" chrome tips of his exhaust, snarling, my cappuccino forgotten, as he lifted a little to take the next corner.
I saw my opportunity, and counting on the innate agility of my trusty steed, I pulled wide into the number two lane and kept my foot buried in carpet. Slowly, I inched around him, feeling my Metro roll slowly to the left as I came abreast in the midst of this gradual sweeping turn. I felt the Geo ease onto its suspension stops, and felt the right rear wheel slowly leave the ground - no matter, though, because my drive wheels, up front, were pulling me through the corner, and around the Festiva.
The Ford driver beat his wheel in rage as my wife's car eased past him on the outside, my P165/80R13's screaming in protest, as we raced to the next light. We coasted down, neck-and neck, to the red light. I tightened my driving gloves, ready for another round, when the WIMP in the next car meekly flipped his turn signal and made a right. Chevy (Suzuki) superiority reigns!!!
I drove off sipping my masculine drink, awash in my sheer virility, looking for other unwitting targets, perhaps a Yugo, or maybe even a Volkswagon Van...
____________________________________
I I borrowed my wife's Geo Metro last night. One liter of raw power, 3 cylinders of asphalt-tearing terror on thirteen-inch rims. It's stock, alright, nothing done to it, but it pushes the barely 2000 pounds of Metro around with AUTHORITY. I'm always catching mopeds and 18-wheelers by surprise.
I was headed back from Baskin Robbins with my manly triple-latte cappuccino blast ("No Cinnamon, ma'am, I take it black!"), when I stopped at a streetlight. As the Metro throbbed its throaty idle around me, I sipped my bold beverage and wiped the white froth my stiff upper lip. I was minding my own business, when I heard a rev from the next lane.
I turned, made eye contact, then let my eyes trace over the competition.
Ford Festiva - a late model, could be trouble. Low profile tires, curbfeelers, and schoolbus-yellow paint. Yep, a hot rod, for sure.
The howl of his motor snapped my reverie, and I looked back into the driver's eyes, nodded, then blipped my own throttle. As I tugged on my driving gloves and slipped on my sunglasses (gotta look cool to be fast, and I am damn cool...), the night was split with the sound of seven screaming cylinders.
Then the light turned... I almost had him out of the hole, my three pounding cylinders thrusting me at least a millimeter back into my seat, as smoke poured from my front right tire... my unlimited slip differential was letting me down! I saw in the corner of my eyes, a yellow snout gaining, and I heard the roar of his four cylinders. He slung by me, right front wheel juddering against the pavement, and he flashed me a smile as his .4 extra liters of motor stretched its legs. I kept my foot gamely in it though, waiting for the CHECK ENGINE light to blink on in the one-gage (no tachometer here!) instrument panel. I saw a glimpse of chrome under his bumper, and knew the ugly truth.
He was running a custom exhaust - probably a 2-into-1 dual exhaust...maybe even cutouts! Damn his hot-rod soul! The old lady passing us on the crosswalk cast a dirty look in our boy-racer direction.
Yet still I persisted, with my three pumping pistons singing a heady high-pitched song, wound fully out. Though only a few handfuls of seconds had passed, we were nearing the crosswalk at the other side of the intersection, and I heard the note of his engine change as he made his shift to second, and I saw his grin in his rearview mirror fade as he missed the shift! I rocketed by, shifting, and nursed the clutch gently in to keep from bogging, keeping my motor spinning hot and pulling me ahead, now trailing a cloud of stinking clutch smoke. Not ready to give up so easily, he left his foot in it, revving, and I heard one wheel almost chirp as he finally found second and dropped the clutch. We careened over the crosswalk, now going at least 15 miles per hour. A bicyclist passed us, but intent on the race as we were, neither of us batted an eye.
He pulled slowly abreast of me, and neck and neck, we made the shift to third, the scream of motors deafening all pedestrians within a five foot circle. He nosed ahead as we passed 30 miles an hour, then eased in front of me, taunting, as we shifted into fourth. I was staring up the dual 6" chrome tips of his exhaust, snarling, my cappuccino forgotten, as he lifted a little to take the next corner.
I saw my opportunity, and counting on the innate agility of my trusty steed, I pulled wide into the number two lane and kept my foot buried in carpet. Slowly, I inched around him, feeling my Metro roll slowly to the left as I came abreast in the midst of this gradual sweeping turn. I felt the Geo ease onto its suspension stops, and felt the right rear wheel slowly leave the ground - no matter, though, because my drive wheels, up front, were pulling me through the corner, and around the Festiva.
The Ford driver beat his wheel in rage as my wife's car eased past him on the outside, my P165/80R13's screaming in protest, as we raced to the next light. We coasted down, neck-and neck, to the red light. I tightened my driving gloves, ready for another round, when the WIMP in the next car meekly flipped his turn signal and made a right. Chevy (Suzuki) superiority reigns!!!
I drove off sipping my masculine drink, awash in my sheer virility, looking for other unwitting targets, perhaps a Yugo, or maybe even a Volkswagon Van...
Member
Joined: Feb 2001
Posts: 99
Likes: 0
From: Naperville, IL
DAMMIT! The GM product beat the FORD! Thats a first
LOL, that was a hillarious story Silver!
Brian
------------------
98 F150 XLT Supercab 4X4
4.6L V8 3.55LS
Tonno Cover, Brush Guard, Dukes of Hazzard Dixie Horn, 2 150 watt KC Daylighters, Cobra CB Radio, BF Goodrich All Terrains 265/75/16
http://hometown.aol.com/barto24/brianstruck.html
--------------------------
2000 Excursion Limited 4X4, Black, V-10, 3.73 LS, Tow Mirrors
LOL, that was a hillarious story Silver!
Brian
------------------
98 F150 XLT Supercab 4X4
4.6L V8 3.55LS
Tonno Cover, Brush Guard, Dukes of Hazzard Dixie Horn, 2 150 watt KC Daylighters, Cobra CB Radio, BF Goodrich All Terrains 265/75/16
http://hometown.aol.com/barto24/brianstruck.html
--------------------------
2000 Excursion Limited 4X4, Black, V-10, 3.73 LS, Tow Mirrors
Senior Member
Joined: May 2000
Posts: 1,007
Likes: 0
From: liquid sunshine state (oregon)
Trending Topics
Member
Joined: Apr 2001
Posts: 96
Likes: 0
From: Effingham,Ill.
LMAO!!! LOL
I just about choked on my pizza, laughing SSSSOOOOO much!! Hate to see that it was a Metro over a Festiva, but oh well. YOu win some you lose some but man that was one in a million. That was great>..
------------------
99 S/C ORP
5.4L Auto
I just about choked on my pizza, laughing SSSSOOOOO much!! Hate to see that it was a Metro over a Festiva, but oh well. YOu win some you lose some but man that was one in a million. That was great>..
------------------
99 S/C ORP
5.4L Auto
Senior Member
Joined: May 1999
Posts: 3,188
Likes: 3
From: Kansas side of the greater KC area
ROFLOL laughing so hard I'm now out of breath. Thanks for the good laugh. 
------------------
2000 F150 XLT Reg. cab
4.6 Triton Engine
4x2 3.55 rear end gear
sliding rear window
automatic keyless entry
white styleside short box
------------------
2000 F150 XLT Reg. cab
4.6 Triton Engine
4x2 3.55 rear end gear
sliding rear window
automatic keyless entry
white styleside short box
Senior Member
Joined: Jul 2000
Posts: 5,116
Likes: 3
From: Houston, by way of every major city in America.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! That was hilarious! Need a new story,Aspire vs. Charade,,,,two thumbs up,way up,,,,,98
------------------
98 F-150 4.6 Litre XLT 4x2 Ext. cab
prarie tan/tan int.
Yep,it has alot of stuff installed on it,I just got sick of lugging that huge sig. around,hehe
Come and see my newest pictures@ www.my-f150.com
Everything is shown there,except for the Superchip,Thanks Mike T!!
FENDER GUITARS ROCK!!!
Now,if it only looked like this in real life
------------------
98 F-150 4.6 Litre XLT 4x2 Ext. cab
prarie tan/tan int.
Yep,it has alot of stuff installed on it,I just got sick of lugging that huge sig. around,hehe
Come and see my newest pictures@ www.my-f150.com
Everything is shown there,except for the Superchip,Thanks Mike T!!
FENDER GUITARS ROCK!!!
Now,if it only looked like this in real life
Just a funny story that made me laugh and laugh...