• 1 Post
  • 20 Comments
Joined 1 year ago
cake
Cake day: July 1st, 2023

help-circle









  • I had an '82 Ford Escort. Those things were notorious for lunching the motor if the timing belt ever broke (which they did every 45,000 miles like clockwork) while you were traveling down the road. The valves would stop in whatever position they were in at that instant, and then the momentum of the car would keep the pistons moving up and down, bashing the piston tops in to whichever valves were unlucky enough to still be open, ruining pretty-much everything. At the same time I owned that car, my best friend owned an '82 Chevy Cavalier. We were constantly one-upping each other over who owned the biggest turd…


  • Back in about '89-'90 I was the assistant manager at a fast oil change place, and we had a regular customer with a maroon '76 Aspen with a bullet-proof slant-six who got his oil changed with us regularly. I could hear him coming. I’d know it was him without even looking because of the distinctive TAP-TAP-TAP -TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. We’d pull him in and he’d tell us to just change the oil and filter and don’t bother checking all that other stuff, so that’s what we’d do. We’d pull the plug and if more than a half a quart drained out we’d be surprised. After a filter swap, we’d fill it back up and restart it and it would go TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-tap-tap-tap-ta-ta-ta-t-t-t-t-t-t-t- etc and he’d smile and pay and be on his way. Of course, we’d see him again in about 3 or 4 months, same thing, rinse and repeat. The tapping was his signal to get it changed. Fast forward to '97, after working as a manager at other locations I came back to that same station as the manager there and I’ll be damned if that same guy in that same '76 Aspen didn’t pull in for the same service with that same oil-leaking loud-ass tapping slant-six, still hanging in there…






  • Back in the late 70’s, my dad ran the local branch of the Humane Society, which, at the time, was responsible for all animal control duties within the city limits of our town. During that time, our area had a big influx of Vietnamese immigrants settling in. The amount of calls that came in accusing our new immigrant neighbors of stealing and eating dogs was unreal. Dad was a special deputy tasked with investigating animal cruelty cases, so he would look into these at first, but there was never any solid evidence that it ever actually happened, and they eventually just started ignoring the calls. I have to imagine that a lot of them were probably just racially motivated attempts at harassment…