So yesterday I decided to take the cobra out for spin around town and do a few motivational driving pulls. I mean the car was clean, tires shining and low to the ground. But yet she is still remains the meanest bitch on asphalt everywhere she goes. Me on the other side, I was looking sharp, with big never ending scumbag smile, just like your typical Cobro that commandeers aCobra. My self-esteem juices were flowing like the Nile river with no sight of the end. So every time my cobra sits for sometime dueto my busy life style, I have to do Pre-drive checks. I get in and pop the garage door open with my keyless entry. I proceed to start the snake and my Custom H-PiCack exhaust system that I invented and pioneered,channels the inner 32 valves and unleashes the terminator heart inside her. Best exhaust set up ever, I get compliments from dudes and bitches left and right, all day everyday.
After driving for a few minutes, I come upon this red lightand for whatever reason it seems I am always the first car. A few seconds later, a 1969 Camaro SS pulls over. As usual, given the kind of dominant male Iam, I refuse to acknowledge the presence of the guy in the Camaro or his Camaro,until he acknowledges my supreme presence first. So he beeps and begs me to lower my window,which I decided to do. He gives my car complements and how good it sounds and I kindly say thank you. Then he proceeds to say, “But not faster than this bad bitch” I thought that was totally arrogant of him. I calmly raised my scumbag Phillies hat and lower my Gucci sunglasses and I was like, “Is that So?” He asked me what I have to done my car and I laughed out loud, before i said, “The entire American Muscle Catalog” which for some reason made him laugh. His shit looked plain, like Jane with a night gown. With no car behind me, I told him I will give him a full car lenth head start,before I reversed my Snake so as to achieve that one car length. As soon as the lights turn green, I launchedhard, he spun on his factory skinny steel wheels and tires. In a split of a second and at mid 1[SUP]st[/SUP]gear, I was 0.5 car length ahead of him. By the end of 3[SUP]rd[/SUP] gear, he was 3 cars behind. By now I knew the race was over and shut it down as I put it in 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear to cruise away in a victorious manner also as I turned on my hazards to celebrate. My car made the loudest gear grind noise ever heard to man which meant Ihad catastrophically lost 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear for whatever reason. I decided to pull over to the shoulder for a malfunction inspection. As I was coming out of my car, the Camaro sped past me honking at me like I was some sort of cheap prostitute, grinning like the catfish the future camaros were going to be. **** you I yelled! I tried all the other gears, and they all work fine except for 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear. At the end of the day, it still counts as a win in the win column!
After driving for a few minutes, I come upon this red lightand for whatever reason it seems I am always the first car. A few seconds later, a 1969 Camaro SS pulls over. As usual, given the kind of dominant male Iam, I refuse to acknowledge the presence of the guy in the Camaro or his Camaro,until he acknowledges my supreme presence first. So he beeps and begs me to lower my window,which I decided to do. He gives my car complements and how good it sounds and I kindly say thank you. Then he proceeds to say, “But not faster than this bad bitch” I thought that was totally arrogant of him. I calmly raised my scumbag Phillies hat and lower my Gucci sunglasses and I was like, “Is that So?” He asked me what I have to done my car and I laughed out loud, before i said, “The entire American Muscle Catalog” which for some reason made him laugh. His shit looked plain, like Jane with a night gown. With no car behind me, I told him I will give him a full car lenth head start,before I reversed my Snake so as to achieve that one car length. As soon as the lights turn green, I launchedhard, he spun on his factory skinny steel wheels and tires. In a split of a second and at mid 1[SUP]st[/SUP]gear, I was 0.5 car length ahead of him. By the end of 3[SUP]rd[/SUP] gear, he was 3 cars behind. By now I knew the race was over and shut it down as I put it in 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear to cruise away in a victorious manner also as I turned on my hazards to celebrate. My car made the loudest gear grind noise ever heard to man which meant Ihad catastrophically lost 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear for whatever reason. I decided to pull over to the shoulder for a malfunction inspection. As I was coming out of my car, the Camaro sped past me honking at me like I was some sort of cheap prostitute, grinning like the catfish the future camaros were going to be. **** you I yelled! I tried all the other gears, and they all work fine except for 6[SUP]th[/SUP] gear. At the end of the day, it still counts as a win in the win column!
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