II-)
'Sorry it's a long one but Gambinotdx asked for it:
The other night I'm just going out to the driving range to hit a bucket of balls. As I get to the red-light just before the on-ramp to the 210Fwy in Monrovia, I see it:
RICER-F***ING-MOBILE.
Yellow Civic with a huge black Shelby Cobra stripe, a muffler about the size of one of the artillery guns on the USS Arizona and underneath it all a friggin' six-point black roll cage which really made the driver look like a monkey behind bars!! I could barely contain myself but I'm sure the corners of my mouth raised in appreciation of the comedic display in front of me!
I signal that I'm turning right onto the freeway on-ramp (thinking Mr. Rice is not getting on the freeway but will proceed straight thru intersection) and just then I hear this ugly sound coming from in front of me. (It sounded like I do fifteen minutes after some bad Chinese food!) A low, wet, rumbling ppfffft! Obviously, this is either a Ricer mating call (no chicks in the vicinity, however), Ricer distress signal (to call other Ricers out to his aid. None came!) or a Ricer territorial challenge (ROAR!) I take it to be the latter and rev back gently my willingness to kick his ass! (I think it's called "mini-van rev", right?)
The light changes and he spins out for about 2 seconds. I can't go anywhere because there is only one right turn lane and I'm not going thru him. I'm thinking, "rookie driver, obviously intimidated by my growl!" and then he catches and bolts. While he was spinning out I had, nonchalantly, reached down and turned off my traction control, so I was ready. I'm in second and on his ass on the on ramp. It's about 8:30pm so I know traffic will be light. I'm still in second and guessing he must be in fifth gear by now. I hit third and blow past him on the left (traffic was light!) at about 60ish he wasn't even there yet! Ha!Ha! Not satisfied with having just a few lengths on him at this point I push to fourth and I'm gone, gone, gone. Figuring I just gave him a valuable lesson and seeing that I was probably about 1/4 ahead of his ass by now, I slow down to about 65ish and I see his Blue fog approaching fast behind me. I giggle to myself and slow further to let him catch up to me. He does and just as he's about to try a fly-by on my left I drop-shift from 5th to 4th and I'm gone again! I wished I could've seen the look on his face because one minute he thought he was gonna fly-by and next thing you know he's probably put a huge dent in his floorboard under his accel pedal!
My offramp comes up, Irwindale Ave. (by the way I didn't once hear my golf clubs even clatter in the trunk during my toasting of Ricer-boy) and I signal and get off. "Hear" comes the Blue Fog again! He's actually not had enough! I can't believe it. I pull into the AM/PM minimarket to get a Gatorade (I get really worked up hitting all them goddamn little white balls) and here he comes. I get out of my Snake proudly and he pulls up right behind my car.
He starts complimenting me on my car and then says, get this, "I can't believe you pulled from me like that. I've beaten about seven Mustangs just like yours in the last month around here. That's the first time I lost to one."
I go, "I don't think so. Not Cobras. Not with that" (indicating his monkey-cage).
He says, " Yeah, Cobras. I've got a 1.6 in here. V-tec." I'm like, "Whatever". He then says, "Your car weighs too much. What is it like 3,000 lbs.?"
I say, "Yeah, around 3,500 actually (remember it's a convertible). But it's got a BEAST under the hood. 280 DOHC. 32 valves. WMS Velocity tube. Pretty much stock."
He goes on about how light his car is and how he's gonna put twin turbos in it and maybe some NOS and then he'll be looking out for me. (I'm thinking, "Right, I can't wait. Hopefully, I'll have the intercooled ProCharger by then and then I'm sure it will be a repeat of this episode...only faster!")
He again compliments me on the Snake and drives away blushing and scratching his head. I make it to the range and hit many balls and straight!
Now what I can't stand is hearing this guy say that he can't believe he lost to a Cobra because he's been taking Cobras for the last week?!?!?!?! I can't even believe he could take a bone stock 'Stang let alone a Snake. What an ass for making such claims. Why? Why do they do that? Can't they just take it like a man? If you get yours handed to you accept it. Don't knock others that have obviously beaten you, and plenty, before! Why do these guys exist?
That's all from me. Hope you enjoyed Gambino!
'Sorry it's a long one but Gambinotdx asked for it:
The other night I'm just going out to the driving range to hit a bucket of balls. As I get to the red-light just before the on-ramp to the 210Fwy in Monrovia, I see it:
RICER-F***ING-MOBILE.
Yellow Civic with a huge black Shelby Cobra stripe, a muffler about the size of one of the artillery guns on the USS Arizona and underneath it all a friggin' six-point black roll cage which really made the driver look like a monkey behind bars!! I could barely contain myself but I'm sure the corners of my mouth raised in appreciation of the comedic display in front of me!
I signal that I'm turning right onto the freeway on-ramp (thinking Mr. Rice is not getting on the freeway but will proceed straight thru intersection) and just then I hear this ugly sound coming from in front of me. (It sounded like I do fifteen minutes after some bad Chinese food!) A low, wet, rumbling ppfffft! Obviously, this is either a Ricer mating call (no chicks in the vicinity, however), Ricer distress signal (to call other Ricers out to his aid. None came!) or a Ricer territorial challenge (ROAR!) I take it to be the latter and rev back gently my willingness to kick his ass! (I think it's called "mini-van rev", right?)
The light changes and he spins out for about 2 seconds. I can't go anywhere because there is only one right turn lane and I'm not going thru him. I'm thinking, "rookie driver, obviously intimidated by my growl!" and then he catches and bolts. While he was spinning out I had, nonchalantly, reached down and turned off my traction control, so I was ready. I'm in second and on his ass on the on ramp. It's about 8:30pm so I know traffic will be light. I'm still in second and guessing he must be in fifth gear by now. I hit third and blow past him on the left (traffic was light!) at about 60ish he wasn't even there yet! Ha!Ha! Not satisfied with having just a few lengths on him at this point I push to fourth and I'm gone, gone, gone. Figuring I just gave him a valuable lesson and seeing that I was probably about 1/4 ahead of his ass by now, I slow down to about 65ish and I see his Blue fog approaching fast behind me. I giggle to myself and slow further to let him catch up to me. He does and just as he's about to try a fly-by on my left I drop-shift from 5th to 4th and I'm gone again! I wished I could've seen the look on his face because one minute he thought he was gonna fly-by and next thing you know he's probably put a huge dent in his floorboard under his accel pedal!
My offramp comes up, Irwindale Ave. (by the way I didn't once hear my golf clubs even clatter in the trunk during my toasting of Ricer-boy) and I signal and get off. "Hear" comes the Blue Fog again! He's actually not had enough! I can't believe it. I pull into the AM/PM minimarket to get a Gatorade (I get really worked up hitting all them goddamn little white balls) and here he comes. I get out of my Snake proudly and he pulls up right behind my car.
He starts complimenting me on my car and then says, get this, "I can't believe you pulled from me like that. I've beaten about seven Mustangs just like yours in the last month around here. That's the first time I lost to one."
I go, "I don't think so. Not Cobras. Not with that" (indicating his monkey-cage).
He says, " Yeah, Cobras. I've got a 1.6 in here. V-tec." I'm like, "Whatever". He then says, "Your car weighs too much. What is it like 3,000 lbs.?"
I say, "Yeah, around 3,500 actually (remember it's a convertible). But it's got a BEAST under the hood. 280 DOHC. 32 valves. WMS Velocity tube. Pretty much stock."
He goes on about how light his car is and how he's gonna put twin turbos in it and maybe some NOS and then he'll be looking out for me. (I'm thinking, "Right, I can't wait. Hopefully, I'll have the intercooled ProCharger by then and then I'm sure it will be a repeat of this episode...only faster!")
He again compliments me on the Snake and drives away blushing and scratching his head. I make it to the range and hit many balls and straight!
Now what I can't stand is hearing this guy say that he can't believe he lost to a Cobra because he's been taking Cobras for the last week?!?!?!?! I can't even believe he could take a bone stock 'Stang let alone a Snake. What an ass for making such claims. Why? Why do they do that? Can't they just take it like a man? If you get yours handed to you accept it. Don't knock others that have obviously beaten you, and plenty, before! Why do these guys exist?
That's all from me. Hope you enjoyed Gambino!
Nice kill.
