A simple philosophy.

dodgechargerfan

dodgechargerfan

In a 55 gallon drum, floating down river, and
Staff member
This is a deceptively simple philosophy that I have been working on and refining for most of my life.
I am delighted to say that I believe I have refined it down to its essence sufficiently to share it with a select band of friends that may appreciate its elegance and simplicity.

...but there always room for improvement... Ummm, not that I give a f!*<

ImageUploadedByTapatalk HD1332613523.155373.jpg
 
I would think that the angles of the g-a-f line are reversed. :hmmm:

Seeing as a persons propensity to actually give a fuck doesn't occur until their late 20's, and tends to increase up to their 50's. After that it tends to fall very sharply. By the time you reach your 60's, you don't give a fuck about anything. :shifty:
 
If'n this is a scale for what others think about one then I think it's about right on. I stopped the fuck giving during high school, when stupid kids (with parents with money) starting talking about the "old, Smurf Blue P.O.S. in the parking lot."

It were my Super Blue '72 Satellite Sebring they were referring too.
 
Heh... a guy a year or two ahead of me had a '72 Sebring, E5, and that was one of the most-desired cars in the lot. We all drove old stuff... I had a '75 T/A, my friends had cars like a '75 Grand Am, '74 Cuda, '67 Mustang fastback, '74 Camaro, '71 Ventura, '68 Charger, '69 Mustang fastback, etc. There was a guy that had a '78 Firebird, and he was shunned because Mommy bought the car and paid for a $5,000 paint job, but it was slow as shit. Anything newer wasn't cool, and econocars were ridiculed (although I must say I was impressed with my friend Kevin's 400,000+ diesel Escort wagon, if only for the mileage on it). One of my friends, a girl named Kim, who was a tiny, cute little athletic gal, drove a 400-4V '72 Newport 4-door she wasn't afraid to race. Another friend, coincidentally named Kim but a male, had a '76 Olds 98 with a hopped-up 455 and he could wheel that barge. He drove it like a Ferrari and knew exactly what it would do... he scared the hell out me more than once in that car. In our school, you were berated if you had something new your parents bought.

All the girls loved that Poppy Red '67 Mustang fastback, but I can't think of a race it ever won. It was a 289/4-speed car, and my friend Jereme (the guy with the '68 Charger) waxed him so badly in a drag race with his "winter car" (a '74 Nova with a stone-stock, single-exhaust 2V 350) I don't know that the Mustang ever showed up at school again. Shortly before it got totalled, I raced one of his best friends, a guy named Mike, who had a 402-4V '70 Impala. I was in my Challenger. I beat him by a year. Shortly after that, dude was out with the 'Stang with the Impala owner in the passenger seat, hopping the front end next to me trying to get a race. Mike turns to Duane (the Mustang owner) and says, "You don't want to see how this is going to end. That car f__kln' honks!" We got together a few minutes later, and after a ride, Duane was very happy he hadn't raced me.

Maybe a week later, that car got T-boned on River Ave. There was Bondo everywhere. So much for rust-free Southern cars (it came out of North Carolina).

Man, I go tangential a lot. Oh well... hope you enjoyed it anyhow.
 
Nice, there were mostly newer cars, 3 older ones that stick out are a '68 Mustang coupe, with a mild 302, a late '60's GMC 4X that was lifted and a VW Thing.

The rest of the cars in the lot were early to late 80's stuff (graduated in '92) with the odd brand new or older car tossed in the mix.
 
Piggy and I graduated in 1990. I had a '66 Mustang and he had (still has) his '72 Challenger. Other cool cars were a '67 Firebird and um......that's about it.
 
We had a guy with a '65 Fury I 4-door, 383-2V 3 on the tree. He wrecked the trans, so he put a 4-speed in it. The linkage bolted right up, but now he had no reverse. So, he cut a hole in the floor, bent the original reverse rod up through the hole, and called it good. Dude was lightning on a column manual.
 
oh i could ramble off the list of what was at hs ..would have gradyated in 94? 93?..hell i dunno nor do i car..i was the fast man out...and the one crazy enuf to prove it at any moment...also the only one to leave rubber on the sidewalk
......descent mix of old out there and id smoked em all that were crazy enuf to try..including the campus "kicked off the force and this was his punishment position" cop...was fun whoopin his ass thru the back roads....only to be pulled in by the REAL campus cop who asked me how i managed to do it and told me never to do it again while laughing his ass off..then parking me outside the door which was left open...while he yelled at said renta cop for taking HIS car...HAHAHAH
 
Jereme and I got kicked out of school parking one day when I did a full-lot-length burnout in my Trans Am, and he took off after me in pursuit. No one would have cared, except when he burned the corner to follow me in his winter beater, he shot rocks up and broke the headlamp and the windshield on my physics teacher's car. 30 days, no parking on school grounds.

That gorgeous '69 Mustang fastback eating a tree is still possibly the funniest thing that ever happened in sight of that high school. I don't care what you're driving... you're no competition for a 2½-foot wide oak.
 
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