So I’m at a light, and a way-jacked-up pickup with huge mudder tires in front of me gets impatient, yanks the wheel to the right and guns it to change lanes. He over-controlled, swerved left, over-controlled again and swerved back to the right, crossed the (empty) right-turn lane, and into a gas station. Now fighting for balance, the right wheels lift as he misses the pumps. Will he? Will he? Annnnd over he goes, almost stationary as he flops onto the driver’s side right next to a pump. Like he wanted a fill-up and the gas cap was on the roof.I’m sure he wasn’t hurt though he’ll be sore tomorrow. Went back the other way 20 minutes later and he was gone. Did he drive it upright, as you do with a heavy motorcycle?Anyway, for some reason that cheered me up. Instant karma, and nobody else was even touched.
I’m with the comment above re: Mustang GT. They have nothing to prove. I am loving my ‘18 Civic with a 1.5l turbo. Also 6-speed manual. It’s got some good torque and with the stick shift has plenty of pep even before the turbo kicks in, yet because of the small engine gets 40mpg highway. The perfect blend of eco- and mid-life crisis car. But IRL it’s not the car, it’s the driver. People who buy Prii tend to be the ones who will drive slowly.
GMTA— that’s exactly what came to mind when I read the “modern life” comment. Depending on how broadly you define “modern”.
My neighbor has been letting her kids, 5 and 3, out in our shared yard by themselves for some playtime. It has (to my mind) an awesome layout with exposed bedrock between our houses to climb. My wife and I sort of spoil her plan to foster independence by going out to play with the kids when we see them. To show the different mindsets: when my mother saw the yard and exposed rock, she though it was so great on her next visit she brought toy trucks for our then-theoretical kid to play with. My niece’s mother, OTOH, went crazy trying to keep her grandkids off the rock; so dangerous, they might fall, come play on the deck where its safe. Sheesh.
…thanks, Bud and Lou.
I was in love with a young girl, a kid. She was ten. I was 40. Of course it wouldn’t work: I was four times older than she was. So I waited. I waited five years: she was fifteen, I was 45. Now I was only three times as old as that girl. I waited some more, fifteen years. Now she was 30, and I was 60. Twice as old! I’m waiting now for her to catch up, and then we can finally marry!
Sources close to SteverinoCT tells me he feels the same way. (Is anonymous sourcing the same as “fourth-person”?)
Just did my first mow last week. I use an electric mower, which sets up an interesting dynamic: it’s harder to mow wet grass, especially if it’s long. (The other issue with electricity and wet mostly went away with modern cords: I still remember the tingle in my hands as a kid). And the more it rains, the more the grass grows. So here in CT our mowing season was introduced with a regular weekend rain. Today was nice, though: too nice to spend working in the yard. The other dynamic: I’m lazy.
Having a CAT lowers blood pressure. I don’t think that Fleshy, with his antics, counts.
No, no; I learned it all from Bob and Doug MacKenzie: you double it and add 30, so it would be 50 yards.