8/27/08

I did a little “research” on datsun1200.com yesterday. I was looking for the pictures I had posted of the parts which went into George’s engine. I found them and remembered that the one of the block had a discussion of thin cylinder walls. I also remember now that it was that discussion which made me believe that I had not totally screwed the pooch with this build. Someone, ddgonzal I believe, pointed out that the Nissan catalog lists up to 76.8 mm pistons for use in the A-12 block but recommends sonic testing if going that big. I don’t remember if they made the same recommendation for the 76 mm pistons I used. Of course that is assuming I used “only” 76 mm pistons and not overbore A-14 pistons. Anyhoo, I posted to the discussion that I finally fired the engine and said it got hot faster than I'd hoped. I went on to ask if anyone had successfully run 76 mm pistons in an A-12 block. See, that was the one thing no one had ever said in the discussion. No one had come out and said, “Sure, I done it. Blowed up real good too!” Nor had anyone said, “I build those engines all the time. They run great. No problem whatsoever.” Well, in reply to my query, someone did finally come out and say that he runs that combination all the time in his rally cars and they spin well, up to 8,500 rpm in competition. He did say they run hot though. I asked how he keeps them cool but haven’t heard back yet. So, I'm not ready to chuck it all and say, “The block is junk,” until we do a little more investigating. We’ll see. So I got the call yesterday that Shi-Chi’s cylinder head is ready. They also flowed the header and exhaust manifold. Guess what, the manifold flows better than the header. I'm not really surprised. So, I think I'm going to install the manifold on this thing this time. I'll probably have to redesign the zorst a little bit but that isn't a big deal. We’ll see. I didn’t go pick it up yesterday because mom called to tell me my sister was in the emergency room with a 5 mm kidney stone. I went there after work, after dropping off a 510 hood hinge to John incidentally. I hung out with the family at the hospital for a while until they sent me to the Wal Mart Pharmacy to fill her prescriptions. I figured since I was so close to the shop I'd go check on the fill level of the drain pan under the dripping fuel line in George. Did I mention that the fuel line at the tank is leaking my four gallons of 93 octane gas out? Well, it is. Am I going to fix it? Yes, duh. I'm just not going to do it right this minute. Anyhoo, I go to the shop to find the pan half full of really dirty oily gasoline. In a monumental case of environmental irresponsibility, I dumped it on/in an old tire out back. Yeah, yeah, boo hoo, I'm killing the Earth. Eat me you tree hugging dirty hippies. Oh wait, y'all are vegetarians aren’t you? You can’t eat me. Ha ha! Anyhoo, I reset the pan under the drip and wash up. I head for Wal Mart. I hate Wal Mart. No, I don’t hate Wal Mart per se. I hate the douche bags who shop at Wal Mart. I freely admit to being “White Trash,” but it doesn’t mean I have to like other “Whiskey Tangos.” Which reminds me, I got a text from the Toothless Hillbilly stripper yesterday. She said, “U r being erased SUNSHINE.” I debated replying but decided that by ignoring it, she’d go away. Huzzah! Anyhoo, I go to Wal Mart and wait at the pharmacy counter for a moment. I finally get to give the prescription to the surly “lady” behind the counter. She tells me, “We’re running about an hour behind.” I ask what will happen, “Will y'all call the name, or what?” “No,” she replied. “Just come back in an hour.” I wandered the store and looked at stuff for about half an hour. I decided to take the gamble and went back. I waited another fifteen minutes or so in line and when I got to the front a friendlier lady helped me. I told her it hadn’t been quite an hour yet and gave her the name. She looked it up and went to get the filled prescription. I knew she was going to ask me questions to help identify me as the proper recipient of the drugs, I just hoped I could answer them. First was birth date. I was apparently close enough. Yeah, I should know my sister’s birth date, and I do, I'm just never sure of the year. I got that right but missed the date by ten days. Oops. Then she asked for the address. I said, “Um, it is something on Land’s End in Granbury.” That was close enough apparently. I headed for my house where it was decided she would spend the night. This morning I got to see a dumbass douche bag wipe out a 1970-ish Camaro. It had a nice looking paintjob, big “L-88” cowl induction type hood scoop, bigs and littles, lots of body rake, and what sounded like a pretty stout motor, probably a big block. Well, apparently I pissed him off by not allowing him to pass me on the right when there was a relatively clear left lane. At least the cars in the left lane were moving faster than the big rigs we were passing in the right lane. After I “shaved him off” twice when he made attempts, he got the jump on me for the third. He then did a three lane whip across in front of the car in front of the motorcycle in front of me and I saw his left wheels hit the gravel on the shoulder. I thought, “Oh please lose it!” He did. He had at least two “tank slapper” fish tails before careening off onto the median. He bounced off the K barrier and caught at least six feet of air before skidding to a halt in the grass. I was on the brakes hard to not eat the bike in front of me and just drove past laughing at the fuck nut in the ditch. Aw, fuck him. Plenty of other idiots stopped to help. I'm not going to be late for work because some dumbass brings a “drag queen” to a road race and gets in over his head by being an idiot. Either learn to drive, or don’t try to make a “straight line” car turn suddenly. I just hope it was his brother’s car that he… no, I hope his dad just paid a million dollars for it in Scottsdale and he borrowed it to drive to school that morning! I've been laughing about that fucking dumb fuck douche bag all day. Perhaps his balls got crushed and he won’t be able to spawn any more douche bags. We can only hope. Well, I think I'm going to call it a rant for the day. I'll probably cut out of here in a little while to go make my credit card glow red hot by picking up Shi-Chi’s cylinder head. I'll send a picture of it to Spiderman if I remember. Toodles.