Classic Car Humor and Freedom Celebrated

I’ve been preparing a fun little 1957 roadster for winter
weather; it’s now December, but my roadster
should be ready for winter driving by July.

I say my car is a 1957, but it really depends on which part
you’re looking at. If you selected a part
at random, you might have a 50/50 chance of it being from 1957. Might.
Probably a lower chance. It’s really a collection of parts from different
years and several models. Johnny Cash’s
Cadillac comes to mind.

I bought a Frankenstein sticker for the window. I wonder if
anyone will get the joke.

Getting winter-ready includes buying a convertible top. My hope is that I’ll drive this car in rain and
snow.

Hope? Maybe not the right word.

It’s a glorious dream to drive in the snow. I want to play in the snow, with my roadster,
like I used to play in the go kart when I was a kid.

But, all those beautifying building codes are destroying my
dreams!

Even if it snows, and then the plows smooth the roads to slick
perfection for play, there’s no longer big ugly open parking lots; building
codes now require parking lots install islands with fancy landscaping.

They’ve ruined sliding around in a parking
lot! I want 1970s blight back. I want
safe-havens for burnouts, donuts (or cookies, if you’re weird) and go karting.

On the topic of go karts, I keep thinking that if I was
smarter I’d sell the cars and buy some go karts for the family. I’d get more track time; there’s two good
tracks near my house. And I wouldn’t
have to pay registration, insurance, etc.
Not that I don’t love paying our government for the superb way in which
they are governing me and our roads.

That was sarcasm, but I don’t know if you get it because you
all keep voting for these absolutely bonkers liberals. Either voting is rigged, or you’ve all turned
off common sense. Maybe it is voter
fraud because your license/wallet got stolen by a Biden administration nuclear
official (man) wearing a dress.

Go karts would be fun. Maybe I should sell my cars and buy karts.

That’s assuming someone would buy my cars. I can’t even successfully tell family members
what my cars are. There’s this one
family member that’s probably asked me ten times what one of my cars is called.

But then, if I look at my homebuilt Lotus 7, I don’t know
what to call it! When he asks me what my car is called (again), I have to give
a five-minute dissertation on the history of Lotus cars that confuses both of us.

Why?

I can’t call my homebuilt car a Lotus. That’s like a Fiero with a Ferrari body kit
calling itself Ferrari. I’ve parked next
to real Lotus Sevens and my car looks like the ugly inbred cousin from
Arkansas.

I’m probably not allowed to say that anymore. Are you all normalizing inbreeding yet? Why not, you’re normalizing everything else?

Making fun of Arkansas is fine though; it’s encouraged to make fun of rural places because American liberal cities are the only bastions of
respect… if you like dodging bullets (but wait, don’t they have gun control?!).

The websites call my car a Lo(w)cost. I can’t call it that either. It’s not a name, it’s a description and a
lie. It’s like a 12-year-old girl
calling their Pomeranian “cutesywootsie”.
People look at you with utter condescension when you say it. Justifiably. They either think it’s a dumb name, or they
know you’re lying.

If I tell someone my car is a homebuilt car, then they immediately respond, “Oh, a kit car!”

Then I have to spend five minutes telling them what a kit
car is, why mine isn’t a kit car, even though the Lotus Seven was a kit car,
but it was a kit car from the factory, so it was a production car and kit car
at the same time… just no; I don’t like to talk that much. The conversation is as lame as it seems
reading this paragraph here.

So, when someone asks me what my car is, they see me
instantly withdraw. I don’t have the
answer, and I’m deciding which path of mind-numbing conversation I want to subject
them to. I can see their eyes glaze as I talk. At times, lighting the car on
fire seems easier than answering the question.

How am I supposed to sell that car to get a kart?

Craigslist Ad Headline – “Automotive-like Ugly Inbred Thing”.

If I accidentally put that in the personal’s ads I’d probably get a call
from a Biden administrative cabinet member looking for a good time.

And the internet doesn’t help selling cars. If I try to sell
my cars, they’ll research and find this blog. No one will buy my cars after
reading this blog. I’ll have to remember
to take down my website when selling my cars.

And the Frankenstein sticker in my roadster will not go over
well with the British car buyers. Oh, did I not mention my roadster is British?
Surprise! I’m sorry I just left that on the table (more on that later).

I’ve been to the All British Field Meet; I wouldn’t call British
enthusiasts a “hold my beer” type of group, which is exactly what kind of car
my 1957ish MGA is. If you set a beer on the hood, no one would question why it’s there.

But British car people are more… “I bought a picnic basket which
matches my car’s upholstery and my ascot,” type of people.

I don’t even know what an ascot is, it just sounds like a
British thing.

But, I didn’t realize that when you have a British car you
get stuck in the British car club, whether you like it or not.

I try and talk car with American hot rodders and, as soon as
they find out I have British-esque cars, they look at me like I’m a strange alien life-form
from Dimension X.

It doesn’t even matter if we’re talking about the same parts
they put on their cars.

Let’s say a hot rod forum is having a lively discussion
about fuel delivery; if I jump in and mention that I used a K&N fuel pump
and Holley pressure regulator, things are fine… but if it comes out that I put
them on a British car, the forum will go silent.

It’s like we were all sitting around a table
chatting and then I stand up and go to the restroom on the table. Not only does it end the conversation, but
they regard me in a completely different way after they discover I have a
British car.

Funny thing is, my Lotus-thingy is very American. Mustang II
based front end, Ford engine, Chevy transmission, GM rear end. Most the other
parts came from Speedway Motors in Nebraska (although probably China). Still, I
don’t make it into the hot rodder club.
I can never get past the question, “What is that?!”

Another reason to buy go karts, people know what they
are.

At least I think the people know go karts. Horrifically, the up-and-coming generation
might be more familiar with grown men doing disgusting things than go karts; guess
which one is being advocated for on school campus.

“But go karts are dangerous.”

Yeah, that’s some great logic. News flash, that absolute war on common sense and decency you’re raging in the classroom isn’t doing kids any favors. Way more dangerous than go karts.

Meanwhile, show up to the parking lot with a go kart, or
spinning donuts in your British hooptie, and see how long it takes for the
police to show up. And that includes non-school day hours.

I don’t think city police love the “But my tax dollars paid
for that parking lot” argument. The school is not doing anything else for me; sure ain’t sending my kids there nowadays. I should be allowed to use the parking lot outside school hours… for donuts.

I was briefly on my church’s security team. On training day,
the lead was talking about the damage someone did spinning donuts in the
parking lot… I had to feign indignation while I laughed inside. It’s like when
your child is bad in a funny way. The
church is full of hypocrites, and I’m one of them.

Side note, yes the church is full of hypocrites and that’s
not a good reason to avoid it. That’s
like saying the hospital is full of sick people so you’ll never go there. There are hypocrites (sinners), but at church
we learn how to fight sin. Or at least we
should. Hearing about some of your
churches though, no wonder you’re voting like you are!

You’re living your best life now, huh? Our country doesn’t
look like it.

Maybe living my best life now would be go karts.

What is the point of this blog?

Why does he keep talking about go karts?!

There is no point. I
just wanted to blow off some pent-up political steam and crack some jokes. Because the way
things are going, I won’t be able to write jokes like this for much longer without my
social credit score falling… or is it already; have I been shadow banned? Are employers reviewing this? Better enjoy my freedoms while they
last, they’re already disappearing. As it is, this blog has probably
already banned me the possibility of some future jobs.

Just like selling cars, I guess I’ll have to remember to take this website down
when I’m looking for jobs.

Actually, no. I don’t
want to work for the type of place that would hate who I am. I am a Bible believing Christian. I drive bizarre cars. I enjoy old school
adrenalin-filled fun (like go karts and parking lot donuts). And I like freedom of speech; like the freedom to write something pointless like this. If you don’t like it, don’t hire me.

I’m thankful I have the freedom to
write a blog like this. I declare my respect for America’s
founding fathers (not perfect men, i.e. hypocrites, but still awesome)! And yet, I drive British cars. Doesn’t make sense to me either.