Some Road Kill Humor, Reposts of some of Booker's Stuff. . .
04-17-2001, 09:42 PM
#1
Since he isn't around anymore, I thought I would post some of these as I think we need them again.
Yes, it really did happen. I basically tore a brand spanking new, 2000 BMW M5 a new @$$#%*! It was great! I was rolling down San Tomas Expressway this morning, on my way into the office after a “power breakfast” in San Jose. These two kids in this low & slow Honda Civic are following me right on my bumper at 50 MPH & I was really getting ticked off. We’re about 1000 feet from the intersection at 1st Avenue when the light turns yellow. I’m in the middle lane and start decelerating. There’s some SUV in the right lane ahead and already stopped at the light is some BMW in the left lane. As I get closer I see four exhaust pipes…..it’s a M5! Holy smokes that’s one nice looking car. Classy, yet aggressive. Has to be the best looking sports sedan in history.
Anyway, I nose up and look over, mostly in admiration. I have NO intention of instigating against this thing – why have the guy waste his fuel? I’m checking this gorgeous piece of machinery out, and all of a sudden the guy revs at me. I couldn’t believe it. What does he think I’m driving?? I look straight ahead and ignore the rev. He does it again –twice! He really wants to get it on. So I figure, ok, death be not proud – I’ll run him.
I anticipate the light perfectly and get an awesome launch on green. I leap out of the hole and instantly open a half car length on my way to red line in 1st. As I clutch and grab second, I’m expecting to hear a hellishus engine roar, followed by the sound of rushing wind, as this racecar in drag blows by me. During my clutch, he manages to bring his bumper even with my door. I stab second and smash it and re-open the half car length. Then a car length. OMG, I’m beating a M5!!!! Top of second and he’s now nearly two car lengths behind. This is unreal!
Before I can grab third, the next light turns yellow & we both brake. I pull up to the next stop line a few seconds before he does. Here he comes. He revs again. I look over. He holds up the index finger on his right hand and mouths, “One more time?”. I nod my approval of the plan and get ready. The low & slow Honda finally pulls up behind me.
The light turns green and I again win the hole shot. This time I hold first all the way to the rev limiter, keep my right foot planted as I clutch and slam second. I let the clutch out hard and release a blood-curdling screech from the front tires. While clutching, I checked my side view mirror and see that he’s nearly a full car length behind! I can’t believe this. After what seemed like an hour of squealing, the front wheels finally find some traction and hook up. The Max bolts ahead like a rocket sled on rails. I still haven’t seen the BMW out of my left peripheral vision, so he’s back there somewhere.
At 5000 RPMs in second, I check the side view. I can see all four of his headlights! That means he’s at least two car lengths back! I’m crushing him!!! Woooohooooo! I grab third and floor it, the Stillen WAILS and I open another car length before having to shut down for the next light. To say the least, I totally dusted that Bavarian pose machine.
A full ten seconds after I’ve come to a stop at the next light, he rolls up – looking VERY unhappy at the performance characteristics of his rolling house payment. Needless to say, I am VERY pleased with the performance of my girl.
Five seconds after he pulls up, up comes the Honda. The right lane is now open, so the Honda swings right and starts inching up like he wants some too. Unreal. This POS, dropped, flared and blared Civic has about a 7-inch exhaust pipe and more stickers than a Ringling Brother’s train.
The cross light turns yellow and I can see both of them bracing for war. Deciding that my superiority has already been well established, I decide to hang back this time & let the two of them have a go.
Green. Both of them spin like crazy off the line. Real launch masters, these two. Strangely enough, they both hook up at the same time about half way through the intersection. Mind you, I’m watching all this from behind, having launched like an ordinary human being. I’ve got great front row seats, right on the fifty yard line.
The second they hook up the Civic tears out front with the M5 in pursuit. The Honda opens a car length on him, that nasty 7 inch chromed tip blaring like a damned tuba or something. I maintain distance and watch as the Honda leaves the Bimmer behind. Two, three, four car lengths! He’s practically sucking that M5 right up that oversized tail pipe! The next light comes up in about a third of a mile and the Honda is close to five car lengths out front! They shut down at the red light at 5th Ave.
Still flanking me on the right & left, I roll up to the light and put down my passenger window. I say to the Honda driver (who, incidentally, had three other guys in his car – all offensive linemen for Santa Clara U.), “Man that thing’s quick?? What sort of mods you run’n?”. Then the guy really floors me…. “Except for the exhaust tip, Eibachs and these 20 inch Momo’s, its completely stock.”
!!!!!!WTF?????????
This kid is running 20 inch chrome Momo’s, they must weigh 60 lbs each at least.
So anyway, the point of all this is – don’t believe everything that you hear, b/c those new M5’s really aren’t all that fast. From what I saw, I’d say they’re good for about an 18 second quarter.
I know that some of you will doubt this story, and that’s fine. I was there, I saw it with my own two eyes. So flame away and call me a liar if you want, I know what happened.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Yes, it really did happen. I basically tore a brand spanking new, 2000 BMW M5 a new @$$#%*! It was great! I was rolling down San Tomas Expressway this morning, on my way into the office after a “power breakfast” in San Jose. These two kids in this low & slow Honda Civic are following me right on my bumper at 50 MPH & I was really getting ticked off. We’re about 1000 feet from the intersection at 1st Avenue when the light turns yellow. I’m in the middle lane and start decelerating. There’s some SUV in the right lane ahead and already stopped at the light is some BMW in the left lane. As I get closer I see four exhaust pipes…..it’s a M5! Holy smokes that’s one nice looking car. Classy, yet aggressive. Has to be the best looking sports sedan in history.
Anyway, I nose up and look over, mostly in admiration. I have NO intention of instigating against this thing – why have the guy waste his fuel? I’m checking this gorgeous piece of machinery out, and all of a sudden the guy revs at me. I couldn’t believe it. What does he think I’m driving?? I look straight ahead and ignore the rev. He does it again –twice! He really wants to get it on. So I figure, ok, death be not proud – I’ll run him.
I anticipate the light perfectly and get an awesome launch on green. I leap out of the hole and instantly open a half car length on my way to red line in 1st. As I clutch and grab second, I’m expecting to hear a hellishus engine roar, followed by the sound of rushing wind, as this racecar in drag blows by me. During my clutch, he manages to bring his bumper even with my door. I stab second and smash it and re-open the half car length. Then a car length. OMG, I’m beating a M5!!!! Top of second and he’s now nearly two car lengths behind. This is unreal!
Before I can grab third, the next light turns yellow & we both brake. I pull up to the next stop line a few seconds before he does. Here he comes. He revs again. I look over. He holds up the index finger on his right hand and mouths, “One more time?”. I nod my approval of the plan and get ready. The low & slow Honda finally pulls up behind me.
The light turns green and I again win the hole shot. This time I hold first all the way to the rev limiter, keep my right foot planted as I clutch and slam second. I let the clutch out hard and release a blood-curdling screech from the front tires. While clutching, I checked my side view mirror and see that he’s nearly a full car length behind! I can’t believe this. After what seemed like an hour of squealing, the front wheels finally find some traction and hook up. The Max bolts ahead like a rocket sled on rails. I still haven’t seen the BMW out of my left peripheral vision, so he’s back there somewhere.
At 5000 RPMs in second, I check the side view. I can see all four of his headlights! That means he’s at least two car lengths back! I’m crushing him!!! Woooohooooo! I grab third and floor it, the Stillen WAILS and I open another car length before having to shut down for the next light. To say the least, I totally dusted that Bavarian pose machine.
A full ten seconds after I’ve come to a stop at the next light, he rolls up – looking VERY unhappy at the performance characteristics of his rolling house payment. Needless to say, I am VERY pleased with the performance of my girl.
Five seconds after he pulls up, up comes the Honda. The right lane is now open, so the Honda swings right and starts inching up like he wants some too. Unreal. This POS, dropped, flared and blared Civic has about a 7-inch exhaust pipe and more stickers than a Ringling Brother’s train.
The cross light turns yellow and I can see both of them bracing for war. Deciding that my superiority has already been well established, I decide to hang back this time & let the two of them have a go.
Green. Both of them spin like crazy off the line. Real launch masters, these two. Strangely enough, they both hook up at the same time about half way through the intersection. Mind you, I’m watching all this from behind, having launched like an ordinary human being. I’ve got great front row seats, right on the fifty yard line.
The second they hook up the Civic tears out front with the M5 in pursuit. The Honda opens a car length on him, that nasty 7 inch chromed tip blaring like a damned tuba or something. I maintain distance and watch as the Honda leaves the Bimmer behind. Two, three, four car lengths! He’s practically sucking that M5 right up that oversized tail pipe! The next light comes up in about a third of a mile and the Honda is close to five car lengths out front! They shut down at the red light at 5th Ave.
Still flanking me on the right & left, I roll up to the light and put down my passenger window. I say to the Honda driver (who, incidentally, had three other guys in his car – all offensive linemen for Santa Clara U.), “Man that thing’s quick?? What sort of mods you run’n?”. Then the guy really floors me…. “Except for the exhaust tip, Eibachs and these 20 inch Momo’s, its completely stock.”
!!!!!!WTF?????????
This kid is running 20 inch chrome Momo’s, they must weigh 60 lbs each at least.
So anyway, the point of all this is – don’t believe everything that you hear, b/c those new M5’s really aren’t all that fast. From what I saw, I’d say they’re good for about an 18 second quarter.
I know that some of you will doubt this story, and that’s fine. I was there, I saw it with my own two eyes. So flame away and call me a liar if you want, I know what happened.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
04-17-2001, 09:50 PM
#2
Senior Member
Join Date: Jan 2001
Posts: 1,503
i raced an M5
i was minding my own business ans pull next to an M5. i was just staring at it admiring it and the owner looks at me staring at his car, i felt like fool. he then nods and looks forward. i knew i had no chance in the universe but gave it a shot. of course, he tore me up even though his car was brand new. he even still had the paper license plate thing with the date on. it said he would recieve it in like a month so his car had to have been straight from the lot but he still ragged it out. well, what can i say, if you got money, it really doesnt matter then, huh?
04-17-2001, 09:52 PM
#3
Roadkilled by a Diesal School Bus
I’m on my way into Cupertino this morning, enjoying my coffee and rolling carefree windows down, moonroof open. As I was approaching the off ramp for my exit to get to work, this chick in a stinking Chrysler Concorde waits until the very last 50 feet of road before deciding to zoom over and get into the exit lane. She makes a hasty lane change to the right, no signal light of course, and cuts me off missing my front bumper by about four feet.
Now I’m trying real hard these days to not let people get to me and stress me out on the road, so I continue about my business without so much as a headlight flash or horn honk. At the top of the ramp you can either turn left or right onto DeAnza Blvd, and, as fate would have it, shes making a right just as I am. DeAnza is a nice wide, three lane boulevard & she moves into the center lane, I into the right. Up ahead, stopped at the next stop light I can see that the left lane already has 3 or 4 cars in it and the center lane is occupied by a yellow school bus. Sensing that this chick is NOT the type to want to be stuck behind a bus at a light, I mash the loud peddle leaving her sorry butt trapped behind one of General Motors finest. HA!
Well apparently the kids in the bus had been watching all this with growing curiosity. Seeing that my windows & roof are open, as I pull along side the bus, several of them start working me, Oooo, big man beat a Chrysler. What cha got in there, a V10? etcetera. Then one of these wise guy teen-agers yells up to the driver, GET EM LARRY. Followed by several others, Yeh, this guy thinks hes hot $#%@ in his Japanese piece of $#%#! Show em who the boss is!.
Larry, looking all of 80 years old, apparently has been driving buses for the local high school since the turn of the century & is somewhat of a legend in these parts. I’m now even with the buss passenger entrance door and as I look over I can see Larry giving me the eye. He snarls in my direction and taps his accelerator. A full 2 seconds later the engine coughs a few times and then revs.
Well this guy clearly doesn’t know what Maximas can do, and obviously has no respect for The Booker. I calmly set my morning drink, (Starbucks triple tall, non- fat, vanilla iced decaf late, no foam - $6.95 each). I reach up and hit the close direction on the moonroof button and put up my windows, for maximum aero dynamic efficiency. Since its warm this morning, I turn on the fan to pull in some morning air. I give the gas one BIG shot, so that he can here the Stillen wail, and give him a glance that clearly says, Its on.
Now the kids in the bus are fully pumped, screaming a chant of, Larr - ie, Larr - ie, just like after a fight on the Jerry Springer Show (not that Id know). Just as the light on the cross street is turning amber, I decide that to keep it interesting & to give the guy a sporting chance, Ill start out in 5th yes 5th gear. So I engage the clutch, cram her into 5th, and wait.
Our light turns green, over the roar of the Cummins diesel I can hear, STAND ON IT LARRY!!!. I ease the clutch out and give her half throttle as the engine takes hold. The Max begins heaving and shaking like we were in a 6.0 in the ritcher scale! The bus is pulling on me, half way across the intersection my nose is even with the rear wheels. Kids are hanging out of the windows pointing and laughing like crazy! I give her more gas and less clutch, but there’s just not enough torque. As I stand on it, full throttle, the rpms drop to 400 on the tach and she nearly stalls. Larrys pulled another 10 feet on me, so I’m now staring at kids in the windows of the rear emergency door. The kids are pointing and howling in my direction! Two of them are giving me crotch chops like they were on big time wrestling or something. Oh the humility!
To make matters worse, not only am I being walked down by a school bus, the girl in the Concorde has caught wind of whats going on and is closing in fast! As the bus crosses the opposite pedestrian walk, he puts it into second and drops the hammer. A HUGE cloud of black diesel exhaust comes billowing out from beneath the rear bumper, which is only inches from my front bumper. Windows up, but with the fan roaring on high setting, my Max sucks up all of the stuff and promptly pumps it into my car. Now I’m not only getting beat by this bus, it has officially farted on me. I’m coughing and wheezing, barely able to see through the thick black fog on the inside of my car.
Larry now has a full car length on me, and my engine is turning at 300 rpms in 5th gear. In case you’re wondering, this is good for exactly 7 miles per hour. And Concorde girl is walking me down too. Up ahead the road opens into a slight right bend, around which I cannot see, but the bus has already begun to crest the curve. I finally say, Screw this, clutch, drop her into second, and stand all over it. The Stillen screams its approval, and I take off as if shot out of a 12 gauge. Within seconds I am even with the rear wheels of the bus, snot-nosed punk kids have stopped their laughing.
As I reach the front wheels, I suddenly see the reason for Larry’s confident smerk back at the light. From his vantage point, perched eight feet above the road in the drivers seat of the bus, he could clearly see the LANE CLOSED AHEAD sign, erected just at the apex of the curve whereas I had no clue. 50 feet ahead of me are about 7 CalTrans workers, in their stupid looking orange vests and hardhats, two pickup trucks, and one very large steam roller working on repairing a sink hole that had opened in the road overnight.
I now have 40 feet to make a decision. Can I make it??? Larry grabs third and gives it the gas, indicating he has no intention of letting up and letting me in. 30 feet to make a decision : stand on it hard and pray that I can outrun the bus and get over into the center lane, fail and broadside a 6 ton bus, fail and head on a 15 ton steam roller, or swallow my pride, brake and get in behind him. I choose the latter. I clutch and stand on the brake pedal. The bus goes roaring by and I fall into rank directly behind. DAMN!
As I look up through the rear glass of the bus, I can see the driver, Larry. (That rat bastard). He pulls down his sun visor and grabs a pen out of his shirt pocket. Taped to the inside of the visor he has a piece of paper, clearly written ROADKILLS, which has about 50 marks beneath it. He adds another mark beneath the word, flips the visor up, grabs fourth and gases it. The kids in the back of the bus continue to taunt and flip me off, as the bus goes speeding down the boulevard. I guess GM diesel power lives afterall.
I'll post more when I have the chance, but enjoy for those who haven't read these, and I am sure those that have will like to re-read them.
Now I’m trying real hard these days to not let people get to me and stress me out on the road, so I continue about my business without so much as a headlight flash or horn honk. At the top of the ramp you can either turn left or right onto DeAnza Blvd, and, as fate would have it, shes making a right just as I am. DeAnza is a nice wide, three lane boulevard & she moves into the center lane, I into the right. Up ahead, stopped at the next stop light I can see that the left lane already has 3 or 4 cars in it and the center lane is occupied by a yellow school bus. Sensing that this chick is NOT the type to want to be stuck behind a bus at a light, I mash the loud peddle leaving her sorry butt trapped behind one of General Motors finest. HA!
Well apparently the kids in the bus had been watching all this with growing curiosity. Seeing that my windows & roof are open, as I pull along side the bus, several of them start working me, Oooo, big man beat a Chrysler. What cha got in there, a V10? etcetera. Then one of these wise guy teen-agers yells up to the driver, GET EM LARRY. Followed by several others, Yeh, this guy thinks hes hot $#%@ in his Japanese piece of $#%#! Show em who the boss is!.
Larry, looking all of 80 years old, apparently has been driving buses for the local high school since the turn of the century & is somewhat of a legend in these parts. I’m now even with the buss passenger entrance door and as I look over I can see Larry giving me the eye. He snarls in my direction and taps his accelerator. A full 2 seconds later the engine coughs a few times and then revs.
Well this guy clearly doesn’t know what Maximas can do, and obviously has no respect for The Booker. I calmly set my morning drink, (Starbucks triple tall, non- fat, vanilla iced decaf late, no foam - $6.95 each). I reach up and hit the close direction on the moonroof button and put up my windows, for maximum aero dynamic efficiency. Since its warm this morning, I turn on the fan to pull in some morning air. I give the gas one BIG shot, so that he can here the Stillen wail, and give him a glance that clearly says, Its on.
Now the kids in the bus are fully pumped, screaming a chant of, Larr - ie, Larr - ie, just like after a fight on the Jerry Springer Show (not that Id know). Just as the light on the cross street is turning amber, I decide that to keep it interesting & to give the guy a sporting chance, Ill start out in 5th yes 5th gear. So I engage the clutch, cram her into 5th, and wait.
Our light turns green, over the roar of the Cummins diesel I can hear, STAND ON IT LARRY!!!. I ease the clutch out and give her half throttle as the engine takes hold. The Max begins heaving and shaking like we were in a 6.0 in the ritcher scale! The bus is pulling on me, half way across the intersection my nose is even with the rear wheels. Kids are hanging out of the windows pointing and laughing like crazy! I give her more gas and less clutch, but there’s just not enough torque. As I stand on it, full throttle, the rpms drop to 400 on the tach and she nearly stalls. Larrys pulled another 10 feet on me, so I’m now staring at kids in the windows of the rear emergency door. The kids are pointing and howling in my direction! Two of them are giving me crotch chops like they were on big time wrestling or something. Oh the humility!
To make matters worse, not only am I being walked down by a school bus, the girl in the Concorde has caught wind of whats going on and is closing in fast! As the bus crosses the opposite pedestrian walk, he puts it into second and drops the hammer. A HUGE cloud of black diesel exhaust comes billowing out from beneath the rear bumper, which is only inches from my front bumper. Windows up, but with the fan roaring on high setting, my Max sucks up all of the stuff and promptly pumps it into my car. Now I’m not only getting beat by this bus, it has officially farted on me. I’m coughing and wheezing, barely able to see through the thick black fog on the inside of my car.
Larry now has a full car length on me, and my engine is turning at 300 rpms in 5th gear. In case you’re wondering, this is good for exactly 7 miles per hour. And Concorde girl is walking me down too. Up ahead the road opens into a slight right bend, around which I cannot see, but the bus has already begun to crest the curve. I finally say, Screw this, clutch, drop her into second, and stand all over it. The Stillen screams its approval, and I take off as if shot out of a 12 gauge. Within seconds I am even with the rear wheels of the bus, snot-nosed punk kids have stopped their laughing.
As I reach the front wheels, I suddenly see the reason for Larry’s confident smerk back at the light. From his vantage point, perched eight feet above the road in the drivers seat of the bus, he could clearly see the LANE CLOSED AHEAD sign, erected just at the apex of the curve whereas I had no clue. 50 feet ahead of me are about 7 CalTrans workers, in their stupid looking orange vests and hardhats, two pickup trucks, and one very large steam roller working on repairing a sink hole that had opened in the road overnight.
I now have 40 feet to make a decision. Can I make it??? Larry grabs third and gives it the gas, indicating he has no intention of letting up and letting me in. 30 feet to make a decision : stand on it hard and pray that I can outrun the bus and get over into the center lane, fail and broadside a 6 ton bus, fail and head on a 15 ton steam roller, or swallow my pride, brake and get in behind him. I choose the latter. I clutch and stand on the brake pedal. The bus goes roaring by and I fall into rank directly behind. DAMN!
As I look up through the rear glass of the bus, I can see the driver, Larry. (That rat bastard). He pulls down his sun visor and grabs a pen out of his shirt pocket. Taped to the inside of the visor he has a piece of paper, clearly written ROADKILLS, which has about 50 marks beneath it. He adds another mark beneath the word, flips the visor up, grabs fourth and gases it. The kids in the back of the bus continue to taunt and flip me off, as the bus goes speeding down the boulevard. I guess GM diesel power lives afterall.
I'll post more when I have the chance, but enjoy for those who haven't read these, and I am sure those that have will like to re-read them.
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