dustergal
I have serious issues, so I'm
BACK OFF JAMIE! :walkingtall:
Last edited by a moderator:
Damn Mopars, can't get away from 'em
- Thread starter dustergal
- Start date
BACK OFF JAMIE! :walkingtall:
I promise I'd give it a good home! oh well, I've still got my D-250 and my black '88, as well as my '84 Ramcharger 2wd and my '86 D-150 longbed, so I'm good with Trucks, but I still want a damn clean one.
mr340
I don't always drink beer, but when I do
Need I repeat myself????:doh:
BootHead
Well-known member
what? :huh:
yeah, that last round of pix is disgusting
. throw a brick on the pedal and aim it for Iowa maybe Davy can catch it on the way by.
mr340
I don't always drink beer, but when I do
We need this one in our library, PRONTO!!!!!!
Nevermind, I see he's already there...:doh:
mr340
I don't always drink beer, but when I do
What's that????:huh:
Dr.Jass
Pastor of Muppets
Mod.er.a.tion - pron [mod-uh-rey-shuhn]:
- 1. The quality of being moderate; restraint; avoidance of extremes or excesses; temperance.
- 2. The act of moderating.
- 3. In moderation, without excess; moderately; temperately: to drink in moderation.
- 4. Something for which Jass has no use; go big or go home.
Matt43
Well-known member
rofl
pigpen
Tugging my johnson while
I talked to my dad who is the owner....even though I have the title...(havent figured out how that is) and he sounded like a kid in a candy store on the things he'd like to do that truck. Now my dad has always been a gear head but is as mechanically inclined as a turnip...hence why he'd send 8 year old Timmy (thats me) to change his oil and what other wrenching that needed to be done. But he was also the guy that pretty much handed me my Challenger.....Forked over half the money for my first engine rebuild......forked over half the cash for my Keystone Klassics.......searched and found the tail light wire harness for the said car above after a shady family member cockroached my original. He's also the guy that alway fronted me cash so I could get half the parts I needed when my $2 horse shit pitching career just wasn't providing me the proper amount of dead presidents to get my challenger where it used to be.
This is the guy that sold his 66 Bonneville ragtop to cover my brothers wedding. He offed his 69 mustang and few camaros and bought an old people car.......A Buick I think and headed north.
I'm contacting the second owner of the truck (my brother) and I'm gonna guilt trip him into helping me get this thing right. New paint, maybe slam it a few inches, cool rims and tires, and maybe plush out the insides with some higher line Dodge truck stuff then take this sucker up north and drop it off.
I think I owe him a nice truck.
This is the guy that sold his 66 Bonneville ragtop to cover my brothers wedding. He offed his 69 mustang and few camaros and bought an old people car.......A Buick I think and headed north.
I'm contacting the second owner of the truck (my brother) and I'm gonna guilt trip him into helping me get this thing right. New paint, maybe slam it a few inches, cool rims and tires, and maybe plush out the insides with some higher line Dodge truck stuff then take this sucker up north and drop it off.
I think I owe him a nice truck.
Nice! You're good piggy, Piggy.
Dr.Jass
Pastor of Muppets
Bravo, Thigpen. :clap: My Dad was the same way--he didn't know righty-tighty from tighty whities. He bought a new 1978 Monza shortly after my 7th birthday, and had me show him how to check the oil, where to pour the washer solvent, etc.... none of which he ever did. He had mechanics for that stuff. 
He wanted to know more about cars, but rarely had time. He did spend a little time with me when I was putting the 440 into the Black Bitch, but my scientific method of getting the motor mounts to mesh with the brackets on the K-frame after returning the borrowed engine crane--which involved jumping up and down on the intake until the engine dropped --was more than he bear... "You enjoy this?" I just think he was cold--it was maybe 25° in the garage.
I would have loved to do something like that for him before he passed away. I really wanted to build a clone of his first car: a 1955 Chev 150 coupe with a 265 Power Pack and a 3 on the tree. He owned it for exactly two weeks, then the USMC shipped him overseas. My grandparents flew to Virginia, drove it home and sold it. The kid that bought it piled it up shortly thereafter, but Dad always liked that car.
He wanted to know more about cars, but rarely had time. He did spend a little time with me when I was putting the 440 into the Black Bitch, but my scientific method of getting the motor mounts to mesh with the brackets on the K-frame after returning the borrowed engine crane--which involved jumping up and down on the intake until the engine dropped --was more than he bear... "You enjoy this?" I just think he was cold--it was maybe 25° in the garage.I would have loved to do something like that for him before he passed away. I really wanted to build a clone of his first car: a 1955 Chev 150 coupe with a 265 Power Pack and a 3 on the tree. He owned it for exactly two weeks, then the USMC shipped him overseas. My grandparents flew to Virginia, drove it home and sold it. The kid that bought it piled it up shortly thereafter, but Dad always liked that car.
71dusterman
Well-known member
Sounds like a great plan there Piggy. Just make sure he understands that when he doesn't want it anymore that you would take it back off his hands. It looks like a longterm keeper to me. :clap: [smilie=::
pigpen
Tugging my johnson while
In my teen years my dad bought Detroit EMS ambulances and we'd convert them in flat bed truck and all were 81-86 chevys. I guess thats why I'll always be a chevy truck guy...............Funny story.
I just about finished an 86 c30 except for the flat bed and my dad (being the nice guy he is) loaned the 350 out of it to an unscrupulous family member. I got stuck swapping the engine into said family members camaro and it was to be returned when Mr unscrupulous had his engine finished. Needless to say family member (5 months later) said the engine was a gift and he aint giving it back. One month after that Mr.Unscrupulous need to hide the Camaro due to Uncle Sam wanting his tax money so in dads barn it went. I told my dad I want to snag the engine back. He was already pissed off about losing the 350 and the fact dick wad is taking up space in his barn but pointed one of his sausage fingers (he's a big dude) at me and yelled don't you touch his car.
My dad left for work and half hour later I started pulling the engine out of Mr. Unscrupulous car. Girlfriend (aka dustergal) came by for a visit and helped me wire up the 4 speed trans to the wiper motor with a coat hanger and bolt the camaros hood back on. I wanted to be shady and let this dick head pile into his camaro and not notice anything till he popped the hood. Kathy left to go do chores on her brothers farm and then my buddy comes by with beer and lots of it. Luckily the truck is mostly done when he arrives because we proceeded to drink like fish. 'Ol BJ left sometime around midnight and I was sleeping on the creeper under the truck.
3AM rolls by dad is is rolling down road and passes by our barn only to see his truck with his youngest sons legs poking out from under it. He freaked thinking the truck fell on me and goes barreling up field with his little green K-car bouncing off the ant mounds and tractor rutts and what not. He must have flew outta that car like some kinda super hero screaming my name through the barn like a mad man. I jumped up whacking my forehead on the frame only to have my head bounce back and smack the creeper.
I climbed out from under the truck rubbing my head and dad was relieved I was alive and wondered what the hell I was doing. I told him to hit the key and I stood back waiting for the ass chewing of a life time. The truck started and I knew he was happy and dissappointed at the same time. He shut the truck off, looked at me and walked back to his little green K-car and drove up to the house
Luckily he never brought it up so I was spared an ass chewing. Unfortunatly I never got the chance to finish the truck, I joined the Airforce and the cab forward was swapped onto a 1/2 ton frame by my brother for him.
Come to think of it, I need to call that brother right now and get his ass tied up into this.
I just about finished an 86 c30 except for the flat bed and my dad (being the nice guy he is) loaned the 350 out of it to an unscrupulous family member. I got stuck swapping the engine into said family members camaro and it was to be returned when Mr unscrupulous had his engine finished. Needless to say family member (5 months later) said the engine was a gift and he aint giving it back. One month after that Mr.Unscrupulous need to hide the Camaro due to Uncle Sam wanting his tax money so in dads barn it went. I told my dad I want to snag the engine back. He was already pissed off about losing the 350 and the fact dick wad is taking up space in his barn but pointed one of his sausage fingers (he's a big dude) at me and yelled don't you touch his car.
My dad left for work and half hour later I started pulling the engine out of Mr. Unscrupulous car. Girlfriend (aka dustergal) came by for a visit and helped me wire up the 4 speed trans to the wiper motor with a coat hanger and bolt the camaros hood back on. I wanted to be shady and let this dick head pile into his camaro and not notice anything till he popped the hood. Kathy left to go do chores on her brothers farm and then my buddy comes by with beer and lots of it. Luckily the truck is mostly done when he arrives because we proceeded to drink like fish. 'Ol BJ left sometime around midnight and I was sleeping on the creeper under the truck.
3AM rolls by dad is is rolling down road and passes by our barn only to see his truck with his youngest sons legs poking out from under it. He freaked thinking the truck fell on me and goes barreling up field with his little green K-car bouncing off the ant mounds and tractor rutts and what not. He must have flew outta that car like some kinda super hero screaming my name through the barn like a mad man. I jumped up whacking my forehead on the frame only to have my head bounce back and smack the creeper.
I climbed out from under the truck rubbing my head and dad was relieved I was alive and wondered what the hell I was doing. I told him to hit the key and I stood back waiting for the ass chewing of a life time. The truck started and I knew he was happy and dissappointed at the same time. He shut the truck off, looked at me and walked back to his little green K-car and drove up to the house
Luckily he never brought it up so I was spared an ass chewing. Unfortunatly I never got the chance to finish the truck, I joined the Airforce and the cab forward was swapped onto a 1/2 ton frame by my brother for him.
Come to think of it, I need to call that brother right now and get his ass tied up into this.
