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guys i'm in trouble


scottyMIz

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well not really but i have reduced my self to racing old guys :( .They are the only ones who want to race anymore.I went to Grand Rapids this weekend and there is a lot there that all the rice and muscle and bikes hang out at.We show up and chill and get some people looking at the z.My friend dave had another friend who has an eclipse with a t3/t4 hybrid turbo(not too impressive to me)so he asks the guy and he says i'll think about it when just beofre he was saying he was looking to race someone.Then never seen the guy again he took off little after that.Then on the way to the lot there was a 70's camaro with hood scoop,slicks very loud going to the lot too and he pulled next to me reving his engine so i do a quick lunge forward letting the bov say a few things and then he backed off :confused: I dunno guys i can't even get races in another city i think it's just my luck tho :( I know my car isn't all that fast but i really want to see how it would do and i would do too.And i can't get andy out here to whoop him ;) ok tho back to the old guy that i raced yesterday we have about 4-5 stop lights in our little city here and i was at the last one where it turns 4 lanes to 2 and i always go the out side lane to beat the traffic and to try to race smile.gif So i pull up next to this guy in a new bonneville ssei the supercharged one.He looks at me like he was disgusted or something so i was like screw this guy.The light turned yellow on the other side of the light and i saw him pull forward so i knew he was gonna try to hold me off.So when it turned green i took off slowly and he took off fast so i stepped on itspooled up to about 13 psi the tires breaking loose and sliding i cought up quick and hit sceond breaking the tires loose again as it spooled up(you know those bonne's are quick little buggers)i went past him and let off and before i knew it he was on my butt again must have been mad or something.So a little down the road he passed me and i wasn't about to speed up or anything i just let him pass then he tried ot proove he could loose me in top end nono.gif Well needless to say the old guy got a surprise i stuck to his bumper all the way to about 100mph then just let off not wanting a ticket for speeding.I must be getting board to pick on old people in new cars :rolleyes: I need real races !!!!!

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Guest Anonymous

Hang in there. There is always some new young punk with a fresh bowl of rice waiting to be eaten just around the corner. Even an "OLD" kill is still a kill.

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well the what do i call old is a loaded question so i will have to say when you think you can beat a sports car with a family car that you just bought cuz you can't handle a sports car anymore then your old ;) I have a 4" tip on my car but i also have 3" exhaust pipe going to the muffler and it came with the 4" tip.I'll just have to try the detroit area i'm sure i can find someone to race there win or lose. smile.gif

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Guest LIghtningZ

Yeah take your self straight to detroit one friday/weekend and look for WOODWARD Blvd. make some noise and wait... Hot Rod heaven!!!!!! 2thumbs.gif

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Guest Anonymous

Old guys? Hey I resemble that remark... Just watch out for some of those old guys, theres one car on here that WAS black (not sure what color it'll be in the future) with a semi-elderly guy that'll hand you your lunch in a Z. ;) Ahem, I won't mention any names but he has the same first name as you... :D;)

 

Regards,

 

Lone

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Guest comeandzpa

Scotty,

Here's one tip for you: look for the kids w/ the slammed civics/eclipses/whatevers. where i am, there is one street where all of the kids take their cars and drive them around. (I say "kids" like Im not 17.....) They usually have nothing but body kits, which makes them fun to smoke. I have spent the last few nights going up, sitting in a parking lot till the light turns red, then pulling out and waiting for a car to show up. Even if they dont start out w/ the intention of racing, one "I'm faster than you" look and a rev of the engine gets them goin. Tonight alone a got an 84 celica, a mid 90's civic, a probe, a blacked out dodge shadow, and some 40-ish guy who for some weird reason thought his escort wagon could beat me. hail.gif (Trust me, I wouldn't sink to trying to beat him, he started the race)I'm sure that the Detroit area has lots of these types of cars. They will always do the stoplight G.P., and most of them won't recognize the speed of our favorite cars until they are looking at our tail lights. nono.gif

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i'd race scottie but it wouldn't be fair :D I mean come on scottie is a genius and i'm a cobble king;) I didn't mean to call anyone here old just the guys here.Believe me i'd be honored to race any "old "Guy from this forum.I know one guy from the d area that would hand me my a$$ too goes by the name tim hail.gif

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Originally posted by yo2001:

quote:

Originally posted by yo2001:

couple rice stickers and fart tip(s) and you might get more action.
:D

I don't know about the fart tips, that 5 inch one my buddy stuck on my ZX hasn't gotten me any action. :(

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As an old guy myself, I feel it's important to tell an "old guy is cool" story. One evening myself and my friend Adam (who had a '65 GTO /6-pack, got it cheap 'cause nobody wanted one in '72)) was at the local eatery in Galt (which is south of Sacramento and north of Stockton) impressing everybody with stories of smoky burnouts, brutal acceleration and incredible adventures in his goat, when this incredibly torn up old fart got out of his powder-blue Falcon parked on the other side of the parking lot and ambled over. He looked to be in his early sixties, but he must have been a ranch hand or farmer, 'cause he walked like every bone in his body had been broken a couple of times. So he eases over, clearly creaking in every joint, and all conversation stops 'cause, well, there's an adult nearby. He looks the goat over, real slow and theatrically, up, down, front, back - in retrospect, I'm sure it was practiced (actually I'm sure it was a show, put on for the benefit of the audience, who was not us)- with his ratty cowboy hat and a toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Then real slow he leans down to the passenger window where I'm sitting, takes the toothpick out, and says "So. When do you want to race this pig?" Well now Adam, who is quite full of himself and a cocksure guy to boot, and righteously indignant over the insult to his baby, just lights up with a big old grin like it was Christmas, kind of bounces up and down on his seat and goes "Right now Grandpa!" Adam is certain of himself because he knows he has the fastest car in Central California, onnacounta it's a GTO with glasspacks and '50's. Grandpa just grins a little, puts the toothpick back, and ambles back over the the Falcon.

 

Now I'm looking over at this powder blue Falcon. From where I was sitting, it looked pretty stock. Its' wheels looked stock, it's cockpit looked stock. Seemed to have wide tires in the back, and I thought I saw some exhaust pipes sticking out in front of the back wheels, like some guys did to their pickups. Not very impressive, but I noticed the front end was really low, and the back was raised up a bit. Like a funny car, sort of, but, c'mon, it's a *Falcon*. Driven by an *old fart*.

 

Now Adam's all excited, he's gonna whip some old guy in his factory Falcon, boy this is funny yuk yuk yuk, and he's pulling down his hood and climbing back into the car when the old guy lights up the Ford. It didn't just start: it started to squeal, sort of like a pig, I thought, but also sort of like those WW2 figher planes in the movies. Wheeeeeeeeeeee Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrr bump bump bump BRUMMMMMM BADUM BADUM BADUM! The whole parking lot was full, and I mean the air was heavy, with the sound of that motor. I swear to God my eyes were bouncing around in their sockets and little bits of gravel were vibrating around on the blacktop. It was an unbelievable noise. I looked up at the crowd at the burger joint, and oddly they weren't looking at the source of that incredible sound, they were all still looking at Adam, and a couple of them were grinning. Oh, Crap. I looked over at the Falcon again, and there was the farmer guy just putting it in reverse, and he glanced back, just for a moment, and grinned. I remember thinking "So this is what it's like to get set up..." but just then we started moving and I glanced back at Adam. He had seen the grin too, and had a look on his face like a small child has done something really expensive-bad and knew it and was going to get a whipping.

 

Well, you know how it turned out. We drove over to the drag spot, followed by a few other cars. I got out to flag them, and as they pulled up to the line (which somebody had actually painted on the asphalt - very thoughtful) I got a glimpse inside the Falcon. There was, lets see, the driver's seat, a steering wheel, I imagine some pedals, s whole bunch of levers where the shifter should be, and that was it. Nothing else. Except of course where the back seat used to be, and now was a pair of tubs that looked like they were cut from 50 gallon drums. Front tires, little skinny ones on stock wheels. Back tires, I didn't even know how wide, but the wheels looked factory from the side, though they were, what, a foot and a half deep. Even had the little blue wheel covers. I remember thinking, "Jeez, that's deceptive..." as he lit them up. Both of them. Simultaneously. Rear end popped up a foot, but the car didn't move an inch, which I guess was because of the lever he pulled in the cockpit that seemed to be attached to just the front brakes. Hmmm. Never saw that before, it's a really good idea...

 

Well, the spanking, as you can imagine, was brutal. Adam said the guy got a hole shot on him, which he did, but it was more like this: at the nanosecond the flag touched the ground the Falcon *exploded* off the line, and Adam pondered the implications for a few moments and then put his foot on the clutch...and then the inertia had to build up in that massive overweight Goatbody...and then the tires had to decide they wanted to talk to the road...

 

Meanwhile the Falcon was just gone. The locals were laughing, the day was done. Turned out, of course, that the Falcon was actually semi-retired but had humiliated everybody in the Galt/South Sac area, and just waited, like a spider with a web, for full-of-themselves out-of-town greenhorns to drop by for a spot of tea and some friendly competition. I never found out what was under the hood, because Adam had to go back home immediately, for some reason I don't recall right now. But from that day forward, I always referred to the GTO as "The Pig". Adam didn't think it was especially funny, but I did.

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