11/14/11

I was going to try and avoid mentioning that it is my birthday. But then I thought, a blog has to be one of the most narcissistic things on the entire intergoogles, if not THE most narcissistic, so what the fuck? Happy fucking birthday to me, assholes. Suck on it! And now, having said that, here’s what happened over the weekend. Saturday morning I sent John a text when I rolled out of bed. He replied as I was flying the morning bombing run saying he was leaving home. I said I'd be off in a few minutes and finished getting ready. Eventually I arrived at the shop to find him under his 1200 working on putting the front suspension back together. I guess he got tired of me bustin’ his balls about it in the rant last week, even though I wasn’t really trying to do that. I began searching for Lil' Wiggly's fuel pump and helped him as he needed me. Eventually I did find it and began looking at spots to mount it. We decided on one and jacked the corner of the car up to remove the wheel. Three of the lug nuts wouldn’t budge with the impact wrench as long as the tire was in the air. We dropped it again and I broke them loose with a breaker bar. With the car in the air and one wheel off I drilled the first hole for the pump. Yeah, I marked it too low. I relocated the bracket on the pump and tried again. Now it fit. I drilled the second hole and began to install the pump. John made me stop because we didn’t have the nipples for the fuel line. Oh, he was still working on his car off and on while helping me. He didn’t “take the tools from my hand” as I am wont to accuse. While I contemplated the fuel pressure regulator’s location, he finished up his car and got the nose on the ground. Eventually we decided on a spot for the regulator and made the bracket fit. We didn’t install the regulator either because of the aforementioned lack of nipples. I made a list… well, added to the existing list, of stuff we’d need to make that car run. Gregg showed up to drop off the blue engine hoist and we broke for lunch. We all went to Razoo’s. It was quite tasty, as was the wait staff. From there John and I “raced” to Dave Heeter’s house. John led the way and I followed. When we got to the part of Loop 820 after the I-20 split but before the 287 split, we got stuck behind a slow car. I goosed it and went around. John followed. I let him back in the lead and we took off. We got a clear section of road and I saw him begin to accelerate. I rolled into it as well. We approached the 100 mph mark and had to back off. I thought I saw it, John said he only hit 98. When we got to the Hwy 10 exit we were still zipping along… well, it was just the speed limit at that point, but I had to hit the binders pretty hard on the ramp. See, I don’t like braking on the freeway. I'll wait until I'm on the ramp before hauling down my speed. John commented when we got to Heeter’s that he thought my nose was going to scrape the pavement, I was diving so hard. At Heeter’s we… ok, John “tuned up” Barbecue Bob and made it drivable. They then convinced me to drive “my” van. Dave pulled it out into the road and I hopped in. I slid it into gear and took off. It hesitated a bit but drove nicely. It locked up one wheel at the stop sign so I fingered I needed to brake earlier and easier. I went around the block and back to Dave’s. I parked and got out. John then started hammering Dave for his bottom dollar. A number was arrived at but I reiterated that if he gets an offer he should take it and not wait for me. As much as I'd love to have it, 1) I don’t need it, and b) I can't afford it. We’ll see. And what I just wrote about Sunday has filled an entire page. I'll save it for tomorrow.