Seriously?, a trip to the store for three small red potatoes and three cans of Progresso soup?
Can I get anything else while I am there? No,Okay.Hey I thought you went shopping yesterday.
Who put the oil cooler right there? Yeah that works, looks like some sort of burnt crust half baked
Eyetalian engineering.
It's in the junk drawer

One of our measuring cups was MISSING!

Thank heavens it's been found, smells a bit like transmission fluid, but then don't we all?

Just wash the measuring cup out with coolant and you'll be good to go

Have you heard of me now? I'm The Angry Hiker. I circumnavigated Heybrook Lookout bare-chested, with a rabid wolverine under each arm and socks that don't match, without food, or water, or sunscreen, or deet, or baby powder for my boys.


I traveled a thousand miles along the Highway of Death, on the wrong side of the road, with three flat tires and Bjork playing on the radio full blast, and arrived at the trailhead 3 hours late, in a pair of button-fly jeans four sizes too small, a sheet of high-grade sandpaper smothered with Ben-Gay stuffed into my shorts.


I put the wrong pass on my dashboard, slammed each of my fingers in the car door one-by-one, and hopped up the trail on one foot, backwards, an old refrigerator filled with 1936 Indian Head Nickels strapped to my back, #2 pencils jammed into my ears all the way up to the erasers, and a rusty cheese grater wedged in my plumber's crack.


I laughed at the pathetic warnings - Ha! Ha! - and scaled the sinister tower wearing a sombrero made of copper pennies, while swinging around a pair of 9-irons, taking the Lord's name in vain, cursing the Old Gods, drinking blood out of Oprah's skull, and slipping Mother Nature an improperly labelled tub of margarine.

I stood on the roof of the lookout without a safety harness and called down the lightning, but the lightning, like all things, feared me. So I dropped my pants and bared my ass at Baring, and gave Index the finger, and on the climb back down I got a really nasty splinter on my pinky toe, and it could've got infected but I didn't call SAR, and decided instead to call it a day before my whole hiking season spiralled down the toilet like a "Cease and Desist" order from Cormac McCarthy's attorney.


I drank 4 bottles of Everclear, hammered railroad spikes into my kneecaps, and glissaded back down the mountain over shards of broken glass, with your wife on my lap and your mother on speed dial, wearing a necklace of poodle ears and a tuxedo fashioned from the skin of your precious Barefoot Jake, because I am the Angry Hiker.

This is what I do.

I am the previous posts, even though I never read one, come from a dark unwashed place of bitterness, anger, envy, greed, immorality, lust, godlessness, a willful disregard for the law, and general wrong-headedness. Or not.


And if I ever read a post by a person named Skip, I will have to recommend some very creative psychotherapy involving a nail-gun and a hula skirt.

This is the last time I post in this thread

Can a Cool Collar really give a normally aspirated 911 the performance of a turbo? Do they really cost less than $3K?

Must be an AMC event....I think I see a Matador.....

This is basically the Stijn! thread minus the plot.

This is the stream of consciousness sheet that reminds me of the 60's......you should feel really relaxed after reading this thread.:)

Plot? WTF is that?

“Taken together the Internet reads like the grandest character-driven novel humanity has ever known. Not much plot though.”

― Victor LaValle

Buttplugs

no pears or shredded carrots? The Lutheran is weak in this one.

Announcer: Los Angeles. He walks again by night! Out of the fog. Into the smog (cough cough). Relentlessly. Ruthlessly (“I wonder where Ruth is”). Doggedly (dogs bark) Toward his weekly meeting with . . . the unknown. At 4th and Drucker he turns left, at Drucker and 4th he turns right, he crosses McArthur Park & walks into a great sandstone building! ("Oh my nose!") Groping for the door, he steps inside, and climbs the 13 steps to his office. He walks in. He’s ready for mystery. He’s ready for excitement. He’s ready for anything. He’s…

Nick Danger (picking up ringing phone): Nick Danger, third eye!

Phone Voice: Yes. I want to order a pizza to go, and no anchovies.

Note to self (for the third time):

Never drink coffee while reading the OT forum! :D

I know what you mean, all that was wrong was a corroded starter cable, but the weather kept me from fixing it.

“This lawn supervisor was out on a sprinkler maintenance job and he started working on a Findlay sprinkler head with a Langstrom 7″ gangly wrench.
Just then, this little apprentice leaned over and said, “You can’t work on a Findlay sprinkler head with a Langstrom 7″ wrench.” Well this infuriated the supervisor, so he went and got Volume 14 of the Kinsley manual, and he reads to him and says, “The Langstrom 7″ wrench can be used with the Findlay sprocket.” Just then, the little apprentice leaned over and said, “It says sprocket not socket!”

“Were these plumbers supposed to be reading this thread…?”