Fun run into town.....

[Hissssss]

Not really a "Road Kill" but a good time none the less.....

I live out in the sticks (8.8 miles), and have a great 2 lane blacktop ribbon with lots of curves and straights into town. I was on my way in the other day and the road was oddly devoid of the regular traffic of horse trailers and heavy equipment, so I decided to give my newly purchased Passport 9500ix a run for its money and drive in at a good clip. Lo and behold I come up upon a modded yellow SN95 coupe, (Cobra wheels, fat tires, lowered, cat back exhaust, I assume a tune and CAI).. Well he has a look in the rear view mirror, down shifts and stabs it...:burnout: so of course I do the mature thing and follow suit ..:thumbsup: We play like this for the rest of the way into town, keeping our speed just under asinine, but well above Ye haw!! A great trip to town..:rockon:.....now just to catch a Vett...oke:

 

[mustangmanjeff]

who the f is olly ? ^ is this a virus spammer? he keeps posting this crap in all the threads!

 

[Mr. Mach-ete]

EASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun:
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lipped by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies

You took the words right out of my mouth.:bash::smmon:

 

[Black*Death]

who the f is olly ? ^ is this a virus spammer? he keeps posting this crap in all the threads!

2nd post I have seen this in. Suspect he's an Obama supporter