Ohhh... fuuuuuddddggge.

If you have seen the movie, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't you? Yes, you do. Ya know what? It's christmas. It's christmas. In heaven. Hip Hip, hiphiphip, hooray.

It actually makes me COL (cry out loud) that reletivly few people at my school have seen this movie. Monty Python and the Meaning of Life. Sure, everyone knows about its famous cousin, The Holy Grail, and it is quite funny. But the Meaning of life is also rather epic. Ya'know what else people havn't seen that they should have? The Godfather.

Thats right. The MF-ing Godfather. Sonny, Vito, Michael, and the gang. People don't know 'bout it. When I heard this, I sorta kinda wanted to slit my wrists. The right way. "Now remember kids, down the road, not across the street."

I always sorta wanted to have my own childrens tv show, and then just totally screw up the children's minds. Do you want to hear about it? Now remember, these ideas are spouting directly from my psychotic mind. Also remember, those who leave will be rickrolled. In a rather tremendus (speeling) manner. YOU ALL READY FOR THIS! (DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA!)

Aaaand... go.

So, it starts out

y'know, I don't actually feel like telling this story. But I also dont want to get rid of all the stuff I've already written, so just disregard what I've typed. So far...

As I stated in the begining, it's christmas time. Now, maybe not to you, but to my family, it is. We enjoy christmas so much, we streach it out to a 3 month long event. We bought our tree about a week ago. That is how much we love christmas.

K, I'm sick of having the word 'christ' in my blog, even if it IS in the word christmas. So I'm jsut gonna go ahead and call it xmas. I am the smart side of america, taking Jeebus out of my everyday life as much as posssible.

Why are ther still religious people? Do they not believe in social darwinism, along with plain old surviaval of the fittest darwinism? Even if they don't believe it, it would still affect them. So, to some up what I've been trying to say, why hasn't religion died out yet? Religion serves no more use for the human race, save to create violence and war? Now don't get me wrong, causing war and violence is an admirable quality, but if it causes you to be a hypocrite, you shouldn't do it. And that is just one of my issues, with just one religion! Trust me, there's alot more where that comes from.

And BTW, what do you guys think about my recent posts? Any major problems with them? Disagree with me? Just feel argumentative? Please post comments! LOL!

A little late...

Well, I am no longer grounded. As of, like a week ago. You've been out of the loop, havn't you, my faithfull minions. Actually (to completely deviate from the topic I was going to talk about), wouldn't it be really friggn' awsome to have an army of minions completely devoted to doing exactly as you say? It's like mormanism, but without the backpacks and nametags and faggotry, and with rifles and grenades and various other implements of violence. Then I could rule the earth. Actually, I already have a plan for ruling the earth, and it is, in my opinion (no one else's matters anyway), the greatest thought to have been fired through a synapse since the creation of the washing machine.

On yet another side note, you really have to admit that the washing machine is up there on the list of things you should really appreciate. I mean screw antibacterials, modern medicine, and cars, all they do is stop people from dying/being slow. Washing machines make us smell good! Sure, it would suck if you died of pnumonia (speeling), but wouldn't it be 100 times worse if everyone at your funeral was wearing, sorrid, stinking, sticky, stiff (giggity), putrid cloathing? Hell yeah, it would! And besides, who cares about people actually LIVING!? There's an overpopulation problem, anyways!

It's like all those african children who get stolen away by rebels and used to fight the government. I mean COME ON! They're being friggen trained in the friggen art war, and they're actually complaining! I say, suck it up, and go and FIGHT THE POWER! FIGHT IT! FIGHT IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT!!!!

You see, this is why i developed my plan for world domination. So I can implement my sick, twisted ideas and enforse my assbackwards morals! Imagine, a world with no rich, no poor, and everyone working together for the betterment of mankind. This is easily accomplished, simply by making everyone absolutely destitute, knocking civilization back to the stone age, and forcing everyone to work together to fight off the evil, robotic salamander comandos, who's shoulder-mounted lazer beams can blast a hole through 3 feet of a wall built of dead babies. Ahh... Paradise.

Speaking of paradise, i really want to read paradise lost, by some dude. Seriously, you have to show some dude alot of respect. He did so much stuff, especially involving that other guy, it's just frikken amazing.

Shoot yourself.

Hmm... don't know where that came from.

i r bad...

didn't I say that I would stop taking huge breaks in between posts? Well? DIDN'T I!?! Yes, I did. Why did I do it? 'Cause I'm a BAD wittle boy. Err... somthing liek that. (Mudkips)

So I did some stuff to my car, most of which is just more of the same. Lots of sanding, messing around with carpet (giggity), and other various borring things. HOWEVER!!!! I did do somthing new and exiting! I fixed my steering column/turn signal. And by me, I mean Seth. The evil egyptian god. Or the squatter, whichever. And, while I'm not on the topic, watdafuxup with the word column? Why is there an n at the end? It isnt doing anything! It just sits there and mooches off the work of the other letters! While all the rest are making a sound, the n is just like "Ya know what? I'm just gonna be silent. Im just gonna sit here and watch law and order all day." It's like it's on fricken welfare, or somthing. GET A F***ING JOB, LETTER N!!!

I wonder how the food is in mental instatutions (speeling [more speeling]). So, back to the car. Ummm... ahhh... actually, I think I just told you everything. Hmmm.... this is a remarkably short post. Maybe it's because of the MAC WITH NO GODDAMN PICTURES!! No, that's not fair, I do love my mac. (Giggity [not that way, you perv!]) It has been so good to me, what with cool features like the built in video/just plain old camera. Now I can make videos. Hmm... mayheps I will blog that way, from now on...

Nope, to lazy. Besides, then it's not a blog, it's a podcast or some s***. Why do I put in the censer? Probably because my parents know about this blog, and I'm not sure what the deal is with swearing. Becasue THEY DO OWN MEEEE!!

Did you see the irony there? You bet your sweet ass (like the donkey. You know, gambling a sugar coated donkey. Mmmm...) you did. In previous posts, I say that YOU DONT OWN ME!!, but in this one, I said that they do. I am a silly bitch (like the female dog. That's right, I am a female dog. With the halp of Michael Bay, any thing is possible. ...MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE!).

Well, because I'm bored, Im going to continue blogging, and NOT about the car! That is what they call "living on the edge", and it is exactly what I'm doing.

So, I'm grounded. Yeah, doesn't that just lift your spirits? No, it doesn't. And if it does, I want you to crawl into a four-way intersection, dress up like Osama Bin Laden, talk REALLY loud on your cell phone, and pary like it's your last few hours on earth. Cause it is. BLAM! *dead*.

Onomonapia (speeling) FTW! So the reason for my groundation is this, my teachers don't know math.

That's right, those 3 F's? Not my fault at all. I am a perfect being sent from heaven to show the world what true perfection and glory is. (Than I was replaced by Clive Owen, but that is another story. Actually, It's a more intresting story than the one I'm currently telling, so I'll just bust into that one. So my friends and I went to the movies a month or two ago and saw a movie called shoot em up, starring clive owen, paul giamatti [or somthing], and a pair of breasts (breasts is not a swear-word. Now, had I said jugs [like for water] or boobs [like an alternate word for fool] or even boobies [like the birds], that would have been kida bad. but I didn't. Mammary is scientific, right? I think so, so that one is alright, too) attached to some woman. That movie changed me, forever. It was so epicly amazing that I now worship clive owen. I would go through medical experiments and painfull surgury to have his babies. [on a side-note, i'm not gay]. In fact, I joined a facebook group called "I would have clive owen's babies" [still not gay]. So there is that story, moving on to the other one) My teachers simply screwed up, that must be it. IT IS!!! IT IS!!! I AM AMAZING!!! THEY ARE WRONG!!! *quick, someone give him the tranquilizer!* *I can't he's flailing too much!* GAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAHHHHHAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!*do it now* GAAAAA...aahh...a....*snore*

*a few hours later* Whoops, flipped out a little. So basically, no video games, or going over to my friends houses, or anything like that until november 2nd. So that sucks.

Halloween is coming up pretty fast. And I am prepared. I have a grim reaper robe, a scythe, and a guy fawkes mask. Which means that I am also prepared for November the 5th. Are you? "Remember, remember, the 5th of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I can think of no reason the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot." I am ready for Guy Fawkes day! I'm wearing the mask ALL DAY LONG!! That is pretty epic.

... aaand I'm spent (Austin Powers FTW!).

Freakin Mac!! :(

Hmmm... it seems that my Mac is all tarded. It wont let me display pitures. There is so much anger flowing through me at this moment, I can barly move. Grrrr....

HA!

Ha! You thought I was done. Well, that was a LIE! Now, back to the car. And If you really don’t want to hear, go here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBGIQ7ZuuiU

So without further ado, DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAAAAA!! Pretty car pictures!! YAAAY!!

Did you like that newspaper? I bet you did. Problem is, you have no idea why it’s there. So I’m gonna Terentino (I’m sure there is some sort of spelling error there) this. And if you don’t get the reference, I will NOT SLOW THIS BUS DOWN FOR SLOWPOKES! FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF, YOU LAZY BUMBS! I WON’T HAND FEED YOU ALL THE INFORMATION IN THE WORLD! GAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

I went a little overboard there didn’t I? Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway, I newspapered the window because I was painting the side of the car, as seen here…

Yeah, I know. It is an amazing job. I am Piccaso. Or, y’know, not. But why am a painting it, you may ask? Well that can be easily answered by this pic…

Oh… er… sorry, wrong picture. I meant THIS pic…

Grrr… third times a charm…

THERE we go! As you see here, I bondoed the side (which has a huge dent in it) and because I couldn’t really tell where I needed more bondo, I put some primer on.

And where did the dent come from? Well…

I have absolutely no idea.

By the way, the whole bondoing thing was made infinitely easier because of my dad’s friend Seth (remember the Basement Squaters?). He brought a power sander down to my dad’s house, and it hooks up to the air pressurizer and goes REEAAALLY fast. Is nice (Borat style).

And for a little flashback, remember the whole me almost crashing thing? Long time go? Well, we found out that I was right! The steering wheel is a little busted, and that made it lock up! It wasn’t my fault!

And by the by, we found this out when we took the steering column to fix the blinker. It was all tarded.

Anyway, that's all I have to report as of now. And for all of you who didn't read this (well, actually, if you didn't read this, than you arn't here to know what I'm saying) YOU JUST GOT RICKROLLED!!!!

I really should stop this...

Well, I guess that I’ve waited waaaaay too long, again. I really need to stop doing that. I only post like, once a month now, if that. Every month, it’s like there is a huge C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER! Many of you have no idea what I’m talking about, at this point. Oh well, too bad for you. AAAAAAAnyway, I’ve done some stuff to my car. Would you like to see? NO!!! Oh, well then, goodbye.

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!

(By the way, that title is meant to be said in a slightly creepy manner, like the little girl in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, "They're HEEEEEEEEERE", or perhaps in an even scarier manner, such as Jack Nicholson in The Shining, "Heeeeeere's Johnny!", but more likely, it would be like that one drunk pilot in Independence Day)

I TOLD you I wouldn't be driving for a while! After what, a month? of driving abstinence (Giggity), I finally stepped behind the wheel of a car again yesterday (and yes, you are allowed to put in a question mark without ending a sentence). For those N00Bs or morons, this is my car:

(In case you can't tell, it's a '79 Camaro. You never know who might be reading this...)

And this is the result of my last automotive experience...

Well maybe not THAT bad, but I did almost hit someone. Aaand another someone. And a ladder. You know what, just refer to the blog post below this one.

Anyway, my latest drive went much better, although it was not without its share of exitement, setbacks, and retardetude.That's right. Retardetude. ... I love my twisted mind. (See some post about using my words. And if you are too lazy to do so, than you are most likely also too lazy to get any exercise. So for those people... HAAAAAAA!!! YOU'RE AN F3!!! [this has nothing to do with E3, the Electronics Entertainment Expo, it is the abreviation of Triple-F, which is a shortening of Fatty-Fat Fat])

So my dad says its about time for me to start driving again, and already I'm a little bit, "Shwa?" (it means something along the lines of "Woah woah, hold up there, sparky. What was that you just said? It can't be what I thought you just said. Wha... It was!? Oh my god. OOOOOH MYYYYYYYY GAAAAAAWWWWWWD!!!!! *run away crying like small girl*. I know. All that, in just one word. It's a little bit like the opposite of Japanese.) But instead of going with dad, I went with Seth. Which reminds me, you all are a little out of the loop, arn't ya? Let me fill you in (Giggity); My dad's friend Seth and his girlfriend Sasha moved into the basement a couple of weeks ago. Now, if you knew everything about my life (which would be really, really creepy), you would know that my uncle used to live down there, and no offense to him, but he didn't exactly leave it in the same state that he found it. Or even the same country, for that matter. Throw in a couple of flooding incedents, and you have one nasty place to live. So Seth and Sasha basically set out to fix the place up, which they did at an astounding speed. So now they live there, and are affectionatly refered to as, "The Basement Squaters". By the way, the People Living in Dad's House Count, or the PLDHC (and not a vowel in sight), is now up to 6 people, 1/2 a dog, and 2 1/2 cats (we have a catdog named Shiva [not really a catdog, just a dog that is everything bad that is dog, and everything bad that is cat] that dad hates with a passion like none other I have ever seen)

Back to the actual story, I went drivin' with Seth. First we tried going down to Lowell (see one of my posts. What, you think I actually remember which one? Find it yourself, you lazy NuBs. Just think of it as The Da'Vinci Code, "It lies beneath this post"... Y'know, as in, "It lies beneath the rose." If you haven't read it, and don't plan to, than go die you ILITERATE SWINE!!! The great part about that last sentence is that I'm not sure if I spelled iliterate correctly.). That didn't work too well. We missed the turn, and ended up going back to the house. Guess what moron was driving?

Obviously.

So this time Seth drives down to the Albertsons, we pick up some groceries, and drop it off back home. Then we try Lowell again. He drives. When we get there, we swich places, and now I drive. Now lets back up a sec. Before we left, Dad said, "turn around before you get to the lumber yard. Do you remember where that is, Scott?"

"Yes, Dad"

Long story short (too late), No, Dad. Because I didn't know where the lumber yard was, I didn't turn around in time. And would you like to know where that got me? On the freeway. Me. Driving. Freeway. The three words when, uttered using the right connencting words, can cause the earth to QUAKE WITH FEAR BEFORE MY MIGHT, PUNY MORTALS HAH HA HA HA HA!!!!!!! Woops, kind of slipped into earth domination mode there. That's not what I'm like (yet). I actually did alot better than I thought that I would on the freeway, it was easier than the normal roads! No stop signs, no lights, no puppies to get stuck in my tire treads, and no pedestrians to scrape off of my hood! So longer story shorter (way too late) we eventually got home in one piece.

I will now take a break in the middle of this post in order for you to get up, stretch your legs, lose some wait on the toilet, or just go into another room and analy exhale (to use a... well, not a polite euphemism, but a euphemism all the same.).

Anyway, back to you're regularly schedualed post...

So now I've told you all about how well I drove, but nothing about how much I have fixed. And boy, do I have alot to tell. Well, truth be told, I have very little to tell. ... HA HA! I foooooled you! You actually thought that I had somthing left to say! Hehehehehe.

OK, I'm done.

Giggity.

That was... interesting

(Wasn't that quick?) That's basically how I sum up today. Interesting. That's actually my way of saying, 'down right friggen blows my mind scary'. Let me set this up for you; I'm driving along down a busy street, and I'm going to take a left turn. So I pull into the turning lane. At this point, my steering wheel is turned left. It's a red light, so I wait a while. Light turns green, I hit the gas, I start to turn the wheel. Of course, my steering wheel is a little off, as seen here:

(In this pic, the wheels, are slightly to the left. Or, I think they are. You see what I mean!!)

So I don't realize that my wheel is still turned left, and that turning it even more will put me right into oncoming traffic. You can probabaly guess how that ended. That's right. I turned left. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too much. Luckily, the law says I have to have a good driver in the passenger seat, so my dad is there to say, "STOOOOP!!!" I slam the brakes, and make it so. Then, just to add to the fun of this situation, the car turns off. So just to remind you, I am now stopped dead, car off, in the middle of a busy four-way intersection, all the drivers of course soooo pleased to have me right in thier way, and my car refusing to start. Finally (thank Darwin), it does start, and I start going forward. And almost plow right into a car that pulled up. Thanks to my ultra-honed spidey-senses (or dad again yelling stop, not sure which), I go around it, go back up the hill, and pull into my driveway. At that point, my confidence in my super-amazing driving is just about shot, and then, because all troubles come in threes, I scrach my car trying to pull into the driveway. Let it be said, that I will not be driving for a while.

I has a dash pad (but no bucket...)

For those of you who are unable to make any sense out of the title of this post, allow me to elaborate:

This pic is known as 'Walrus has a bucket'. You now understand about half of the title.

To get the other half, you will have to hear about my day. Now if only there was some place, on a, I don't know... Network of Tubes, that some how linked everybody's computors together in order to share information; and in this network of tubes there was a place to write an electronic diary, or a log, to tell people about my day, I would be in buisness. Waaaaait...

So today I finished up cutting carpet to fit over my dashboard, in order to cover-up some nasty holes and cracks (Giggity). This actually turned out better than expected, and I got a pretty good looking dash pad. And because no blog post is ever complete without a plethora of pictures, here's one of me making the aformentioned dashpad:

Riveting. Anywho, I eventually put that dashpad in my car and I made it look pretty. Like so:

Enthralling. after that, I took out ol' Bessy (I figure everyone should have one possesion known as ol' Bessy. Be it cow, tractor, or wireless power drill, in my case. Although, that drill is actually my dad's, so only he may call it ol' Bessy. It, not being one of MY possesions, may only be deemed an ol' bessy by its official owner. I believe that there is an entire law practice devoted to ol' Bessy cases because, as you can clearly see, it gets quite confusing). Using said power drill, I stripped (Giggity) a bunch of old carpet off the sides of the car. I turned this:

Into this:

By doing this:

Spellbinding (W00T Microsoft Word Thesaurus!). Once that was done, dad and I went to Hollywood Video, Schucks, and Autozone, me driving (not the best idea, it turns out, but that's news for it's own post). We picked up some cool floor mats:

And began the drive home. And then *screen freezes* *lame TV announcer voice* "What will happen to our hero on the drive home? Tune in next time on ScooterBlog, same bat-site, same bat... uh... site?"

I kinda went AWOL...

Well, It has certainly been a while, hasn't it? What, like, two weeks? Three? Somthing like that. I havn't been at dad's house for about that long, and because I do all my blogging here, I ended up not blogging for a while. But that's ok, 'cause it's my life. I do what I want, ok?! YOU DON'T OWN MEEEEEE!!!

Sorry about that. Anyway, quite a bit has gone on since my last post. Por examplar (spanish for: For example), I have been driving a few times, and it isn't as scary anymore. I went through my first drive-through the other day, which was pretty intense. And yesterday, Dad took me down to the Lowell River, and starting there, I drove on this fairly empty country road, down a little more busy road, had to stop at a temporary stop-light (which my book didn't mention ONCE!) and ended up back at the river. It was a fairly enjoyable drive! Here is a picture of me driving...

So yeah, I've been driving a lot. That's basically the point I've been attempting to drive home for the past few paragraphs. You know, in case someone dumb hadn't realized yet. You never know who could be reading this...

So, because I have lots of pictures and no intention of wasting them, here's a really good picture my dad took of... well... I guess its pretty easy to see what the picture is of.

And here's a good man-pose with my car.

DAMN I look good! Maybe I should become a male model...

On the other hand, maybe not (FYI: for those of you who don't get the reference, this is a scene from Zoolander).

So, back to the update, I will now move on to the actual working on the Camaro. I finally put that goo on the center console to make it look brand new (which it didn't), and so now I'm gonna put in a cup holder so it will look good (which it won't), and we discovered that the steering wheel was a little off kilter, so we're gonna tilt it back so I won't crash (which I might [just kidding, Mom and Dad and everyone else who drives]). Dad also painted the door pannel black so it looks pretty good too. Once all this was done, I attempted to remove the dash board to paint that, but because that would have made life too simple and easy, I couldn't figure out how. So I took a couple of painstakingly long hours (or half hours, mabye. It certainly FELT like hours) masking off the inside of the car, finding out I did it wrong, and remasking it, before I could paint it. Here are a few more pic's...

Finally, I got to the actual painting, which turned out fairly well. And I got to wear a mask. It made me feel very fixery. And yes, I just created that word. Feel free to use it in your every day life.

When we took all the paper off, my car looked (exuse the geek-speak) like the PWN, as seen here.

Doesn't that look good? I think so. And if you don't you can just go DIE IN A FIRE!!!!!

So eventually, my dad's friend Seth came over, and we fired up the BBQ for some scrumtrulecent burgers (I credit that word to Will Ferrell on an episode of SNL), and I got to light the 'qew. That would be a shortening of the word barbeque. Anyway I decided to go big on the fire, and poured 2 bottles of lighter fluid on the fire. Here are some amazing shots of what happens when teenage boys, fire, and the oppertunity for attention mix...

Ahhhh... good times.

Well, almost done, but before I do, I'm gonna tell you a little somthing. A really, really, really long time ago, back in Mason City, Iowa, my great, great grandpa Joe had a mechanic shop. I even have a picture of it...

Point here is, that on March 13, 1934, John Dillinger, a famous gangster and robber, nicknamed Public Enemy Number One, robbed the First National Bank in Mason City, and escaped by having hostages stand on the running boards of the gettaway car. And my great great grandpa was the one who got to fix that car. Pretty cool, huh?

Back to Mom's...

So, today I took out the center console on the car, and started fixing it. After I spent probably an hour pulling a chunk of class out of my foot, of course. That SUCKED!! Anyway, I took out the thing, and used some goo to fill in the cracks. Next weekend, I'll put stuff on it to make it look like it never broke (hopefully). So I finished with that, put some of the dashboard back in, and then dad drove my sister and I to my mom's house. Here are some pictures of me working on the car...

Epic Day of Epicness!

HOLY CRIZZAP (that's rap, for crap)! Today was an extremely busy day! First off, I took my test for my learner's permit. I was FREAKEN OUT yesterday about it, cramming for it by reading the driver's book twice, and evidently, the freaken and cramming paid off. I passed! Huzzah (that's limy, for hooray)! The test was alot easier than I thought it would be, though. I scored 20 out of 22, and learned what it is like to wait at what I assume is basically like the DMV. Wow. That took a while. About 2 hours, actually, even though it felt like much longer. Eventually, we got out of there, and I had this...

I blacked out quite a bit, didn't I? You never know who might be reading this...

After that we came ASDFH$&UDSIF&UASD^$$# (that's Swedish, for home) and chilled out a little bit. Than dad decided to teach me to drive, using the Taurus. I looked a little like this..

Talk about nerve wracking. After a few screw-ups (none fatal, or even property-damaging), I came in thoroughly freaked. Once I had calmed down a bit, I took out my handy-dandy... NOTEBOOK!!! Actually, I took out my cover-alls. And sorry about the blues-clues reference, I couldn't help myself. Anyway, I put on my cover-alls and go out to see what I can work on on my car. After some careful thinking, Dad came out and told me to put down some carpet. First, of course, I needed to take out the seats...

Then I could lay down the carpet, and if I do say so, I think that I did a ROCK'N job at it. More pretty pictures...

And then came the The Confuzzlin (that's, umm... something... for confusion). It was such an epic period of the day, I had to name it. With capital letters. Oh yeah. You know I'm serious now. So the problem was, when I took out the seats, I took out all the bolts holding it in place, and didn't remember which bolt went where. Now, I hear you saying, "Well, what's the problem? Just put the bolts into the floor, retard! MAN your dumb! I hate you!" But you see, the bolts were all different, and not all needed washers to go with them, and not all needed nuts on the other side. To make matters even more complex, Jim, (no offence to you, bud) or maybe someone who had it before him, drilled, like, a gazzilion (or nine, whatever) holes in the floor where the bolts go, so I had NO idea where these bolts went. After the first couple of failed attempts, I looked like this...

Eventually, I looked like this...

As you can see, I got pretty angry. After a while, I got the right combination in the right holes, and got this...

So I was finally done, and I looked at a photo of the old floor, and looked at the new one, and thought it was pretty cool. And now YOU can relive my experience!

BEFORE...

AFTER...

Looks good, don't it? So now I'm done with that, and now it's time to go down to the Schucks. I'm driving. So we get down throughout the side, back streets of my neighborhood, and we're about to cross a big street. Big. Like mammoth. Dad tells me when to go and I go. There's a little bit of squeal, but that's always fun. We buy some stuff. Then we head to the Autozone. He drives. We buy more stuff. Now I'm driving home. We do the same thing as the first time, but this time, when he said go, I hit the gas WAY hard, and we fly forward. The amount of squeal this time dwarfed the amount the time before. So we head home (find out that my sister heard the screach), and begin taking the dashboard out, piece by piece. Then, using some special spray, I paint the dash and center console cover black, as seen here...

While I waited for this to dry, I came in and had some BBQ burgers and corn on the cob. Yummy. That's about my day. I told you it was EPIC!

P.S. I figured out that my car's a chick. Go figure!

Grumpy

Fixing up the Camaro has made me think about how my grandpa, whom we called Grumpy, restored a Dodge Challenger. He liked to fix things, and had a whole garage full of tools, car parts, and spare bits of everything cluttering up the place. He spent a lot of time on the Challenger, and always wanted to go really fast in it. He never got to, though. He died about 4 months ago, in the hospital, from an attempt at a liver transplant. I think it would have been nice, to have him help me with my car. I think we would have had a lot of fun together. Here are some pictures of him working on the Challenger...

I wish you were here, Grumpy. I love you.

The Fixing Begins

Today I started fixing up the Camaro. My dad started teaching me how to reverse (I am proud to say that no one is dead and there was no property damage!), and then we drove down to the Autozone. Then we bought some door locks, an oil filter, and a repair manual, and drove home again. Then we made a Camaro Fixen' CD, which includes Bitchn' Camaro by the Dead Milkmen (♪Fish heads, fish heads, rolly polly fish heads...♪), Bang Camaro by Bang Camaro, Big Hair Camaro by Red Planet, Dad's Camaro by Tennis Pro, Camaro by Triggerfinger, Cherry Pie by Warrent, and a completely random song that I heard on Talledega Nights (The Ballad of Ricky Bobby), We Belong by Pat Benatar. After that, I went out and changed the oil. This time, the car actually needed the oil change. I also put this big Chevy sticker on the back window. I'm also going to put the locks in soon. Today we might go to the races again but with my dad's friend Seth, and maybe Morgan, this time. For now, I'd just like to say thank you to Jim for selling me the car, and to my parents for paying for it.

MINE!!!!

Well, I got the car. My dad's friend Morgan drove him down to Buckley, near Enumclaw (home town of Kasey Kahne, driver of Nascar's number 9 car). Then Dad drove the Camaro back up, and we found out that the car gets much better gas mileage than we thought it would. Before I ever saw the car, though, I heard it. I have one word to describe that sound; Beastly. The car is AWESOME!!!! It has a very batmobile-like look, and the engine is near perfect. The body is in almost as good of condition, but the interior's going to need a lot of work. Well, anyway, I'm really tired, so I'm going to bed. I'll post again tomorrow.

And now we play the waiting game...

Today I got a call from my dad, and he told me that he had been e-mailing the guy who is selling the Camaro (the 79 I talked about in my first post), and the guy (Jim) sent us some pictures of the car. Heres a couple of them...

So we e-mailed him again about it, to see if we can come and pick it up, but he hasn't responded yet. The waiting is killing me. So in the mean-time, my dad and I went to see a guy with a T-top 79 Camaro here in Everett, and he let us take pictutres of his...

Obviously, it isn't anywhere near as good as Jim's car, and both of them are asking about the same price!!! Of course, we could probably get the Everett car's owner to come down a couple hundred on the price, but still! Right now all I can do is keep waiting for that e-mail. I'll post again when we get it.