smallfoot
He's rockin' the "Nuttin Special"!
Good one Laz
and go on with the jazz
With this tease
we want to hear more please...
and go on with the jazz
With this tease
we want to hear more please...
Hot Rod Poetry
- Thread starter bob w
- Start date
Help Support Rat Rods Rule:
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
Please Lazarat come through.
With a story or two.
About the times of your life.
Be it funny or strife.
You don't have to rhyme.
To tell us about a time.
When excitement arose.
Just tell it in prose.
P.S. Thanks for keeping the thread alive.
With a story or two.
About the times of your life.
Be it funny or strife.
You don't have to rhyme.
To tell us about a time.
When excitement arose.
Just tell it in prose.
P.S. Thanks for keeping the thread alive.
smallfoot
He's rockin' the "Nuttin Special"!
It lives on it's own Bob. It's funny. We all follow our favorite build threads. I've got my preferences set to view all new posts, here everyday, so I don't miss viewing anything new posted. And BS lounge has got from the mild to wild topics. By the looks of most of the posts, funny as it sounds, quite a few of us really like threads like these...poetry?...whoda thunk! Another, Songs that don't suck, is a favorite too. Lots of views, not nearly as many responses but you know people see it. It makes people think, and believe it or not people probably share more info about themselves by comments and responses. Every time you click on that last one, you notice it was started by Willowbilly...which is not a bad thing, but he's remembered! The poetry thread is all yours..you will be remembered
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
The Charger From Hell
Smallfoot and Bob,
Poems about poems about poems...too funny!
As is the loose wheel Lucille!....[cl[cl[cl
Ok here goes: The beginning is part of the poem I started to write, and switched to story form.
The Charger From Hell
This is the story of a pristine dodge charger
a 66, 426 hemi badge but the engine is larger
The race garage took the hemi, but installed a 440
still very fast and a little too naughty
My bro bought the car, with the balanced big block
the car was mint, and ran like a clock
It was ownership for a week, when I realized the curse
Like Christine. Keep reading, this story gets worse.......
This is a story about a 66 Dodge Charger, a beautiful pristine car, dark blue, with a light blue interior
The car had the 426 hemi insignia, but that engine was removed and put into a dragster, a blueprint and balanced 440 was in its place.
This car was mint, and still very fast. The time of these incidents was the mid 70's, in Charlotte N.C.
At that time I was living with a couple of biker buddies, in a house that seemed to be in competition with a few local bars.
"Where is everybody?" A patron would ask.
Probably at "The House" would be the answer.
The house was set up for partying, bar, pool table, stereo with speakers everywhere, and motorcycle parking in the adjoining garage.
So this Charger comes up for sale, at a local garage and speed shop.
One of my buds, Gary needed a car, purchased it, for only 550 dollars.
Today you couldn't get one of those out of a scrap yard for that price, but this was 1977, and these markets were just starting to rise in value.
It was the weekend of the bike races at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. After a day at the races, Gary driving his new purchase home from the track at night, me in the shotgun position.
We came up on a slower moving vehicle, happens to be a '65 Mustang with Ohio plates. I look over as we pass, then turn my attention straight ahead, where I can just make out a pair of tailights.
This set of tailights belong to an old Chevy pick up with a camper on top, moving much slower than the Mustang we just passed..in fact...it was hardly moving at all!
No brake lights, no turn signal, for some reason Gary does not see what I am seeing.
...Gary...
Gary??
GARY WATCH OUT!!
At the last minute, Gary swerves the Charger, as the pickup is making a Uturn on the dark divided highway. The Charger then starts fishtailing.
One way, the other, back, then again...ending up in the slight ditch in the median. I get out, the old pick up just completes the U turn and putt putts away.
We are slightly stuck, the left front bumper in the dirt, as well as the right side rear bumper. What didn't putt putt away were these two college students in the Mustang.
They stopped, told us they were admiring the car as we passed.
It turns out the passenger was cruising the south with his buddy looking for just such a car, in fact, he turns out to be the son of wealth from Ohio and is in to Mopars, Chargers specifically.
They help us get the car back out of the median. The passenger, Steve, asks Gary if he wants to sell the car, has cash in hand, offers him more than twice what Gary paid for it.
Well Gary says he just bought it, but will talk, and talk we did. They followed us back to the house, where they would spend the night, and talked cars and bikes and everything else until almost daybreak.
So now it is Sunday morning, there are church bells in the distance, the smell of bacon and grits filling the air in the neighborhood.
We all get up, Gary with Steve still making offers, are soon exchanging numbers.
Gary and I are leaving to get back to the Charlotte Speedway, for the headline race. As our new friends are watching us leave, our other roommate Ed, says in his southern drawl, hey Gary, how about lighting up the tires?
And it was so. Gary torques it up, and does a huge burnout. The Church bells and the smell of bacon now becomes the sound of squealing tires and burning rubber....on a street that has a hill...which slopes down to a stop sign at a T intersection....
We reached the hill, Gary backs off, hits the brakes, hits them again, hits them a third time, throws the trans into low,
and then (this is where I knew we were in trouble..) into Park.
What are the chances, that in this quiet early morning neighborhood, the only car on the road happens to be John Q Citizen, pushing his Datsun 210 wagon past the intersection trying to make a green light just ahead. The Charger was just finally stopping, but not enough.
I remember the rest in kind of slow motion.
There is Mr. Citizen, turning his head looking at us, his mouth starting to open, which was immediately obscured by a billion little cubes of saftey glass on all the windows on that side of the wagon.
The Charger barely tapped...Barely! As now it is the Datsun wagon that is fishtailing, but this time, it is the asphalt that stops the car as it flips on its roof and skids another hundred feet.
Holy Crap.
The stocky guy in the Datsun, scrambles out of the back of the wagon, he is ok!
The damage to the Charger? The chrome bezel in the corner by the headlight is popped out a little, and a slight scratch on the fender.
Our friends come running down the street, as do many neighbors. The cops show up. One neighbor tells the cop "That blue car was hauling ass!"
Gary is ticketed, Cleanup complete, but before we are on our way, Steve makes again the offer on the car, before they, and we, continue on our respective journeys.
Now its three weeks later, Gary comes home, but he stops at the door and is looking back outside. "What's wrong?" I ask.
"I have to call that kid in Ohio".
Uh oh...Now what.
I go outside and look. This once pristine car as a quarter panel gash that starts from the door all the way to the rear, and a noticeable 2 inch knot in the trunk lid.
Gary had tried to pass a slower car on a busy city street, hit the pedal, the rear wheels spun out causing the rear of the car to slide
in the opposing lane where it received its new racing stripe from a passing semi truck going the other way.
The knot in the trunk lid was caused by the jugs of a motorcycle engine he was taking to a motorcycle shop, which bounced into the lid on impact.
The semi seemed to keep going, as did Gary, who took off for home.
Gary makes the call.
Another week passes and now it happens to be "helmet protest day", as a lot of the biker buds were members of ABATE.
Steve is back in town, knows (and sees) the latest story on the Charger, is staying with us having flown down from Ohio, and still wants to purchase it!
His intention is to drive it home.
After the ABATE run, we are all invited to the Hells Angel affiliated Tarheel Stompers MC club house for booze, beer, pool shooting and barbecued goat.
This son of wealth wide eyed college student and new owner of the Charger From Hell says sure he will go!
Right. We are not going to a frat house party...
Ed's 19 year old younger brother came with me and the new owner of the Charger, me riding shot gun, Eds brother in the back, following several bikes to the clubhouse.
Well, all is well, shots are being put down, at the clubhouse bar as well as shots being made on the pool table, I get my first taste of barbecued goat.
But I guess there was an incident at the table where the goat was.
Did I mention that members of the Outlaw affiliated "Southern Gentlemen" MC club also showed up?
The incident at the table started when Ed's now drunk as hell young brother carved off a piece of the goat, and one of the "Gentlemen" whose club name was Hacksaw, grabbed it out of his hand. A kind of tugging match ensued. The bar room melee that started after that looked like something out of a typical western, fists were flying caused many bruises and black eyes.
I turned around where I had been engaging shots with the bros to see what the commotion was only to receive a sucker punch giving me a perfectly fist shaped and serious black eye. I don't remember too much after that, except me once again riding shotgun in the Charger, and Ed's brother again in the back, but now completing the somewhat awkwardly restored outside of the car by completing the interior, that is, by barfing booze and barbecued goat in the back seat.
Somehow all made it home, and now once again it is early Sunday morning. Once again there are the church bells in the distance, the smell of bacon and grits in the air. This time it is bruised and black eyed Steve now in the driver seat.
The bruised and black eyed Gary, Ed, and I are saying the goodbye as he is taking his not quite clean but more than bruised and black eyed Charger from Hell back to Ohio. Steve puts the Charger in gear, but this time no burnout.
... and to this day I still remember his parting words:
"I just want to say, you guys sure do know how to party!"
.
.
Smallfoot and Bob,
Poems about poems about poems...too funny!
As is the loose wheel Lucille!....[cl[cl[cl
Ok here goes: The beginning is part of the poem I started to write, and switched to story form.
The Charger From Hell
This is the story of a pristine dodge charger
a 66, 426 hemi badge but the engine is larger
The race garage took the hemi, but installed a 440
still very fast and a little too naughty
My bro bought the car, with the balanced big block
the car was mint, and ran like a clock
It was ownership for a week, when I realized the curse
Like Christine. Keep reading, this story gets worse.......
This is a story about a 66 Dodge Charger, a beautiful pristine car, dark blue, with a light blue interior
The car had the 426 hemi insignia, but that engine was removed and put into a dragster, a blueprint and balanced 440 was in its place.
This car was mint, and still very fast. The time of these incidents was the mid 70's, in Charlotte N.C.
At that time I was living with a couple of biker buddies, in a house that seemed to be in competition with a few local bars.
"Where is everybody?" A patron would ask.
Probably at "The House" would be the answer.
The house was set up for partying, bar, pool table, stereo with speakers everywhere, and motorcycle parking in the adjoining garage.
So this Charger comes up for sale, at a local garage and speed shop.
One of my buds, Gary needed a car, purchased it, for only 550 dollars.
Today you couldn't get one of those out of a scrap yard for that price, but this was 1977, and these markets were just starting to rise in value.
It was the weekend of the bike races at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. After a day at the races, Gary driving his new purchase home from the track at night, me in the shotgun position.
We came up on a slower moving vehicle, happens to be a '65 Mustang with Ohio plates. I look over as we pass, then turn my attention straight ahead, where I can just make out a pair of tailights.
This set of tailights belong to an old Chevy pick up with a camper on top, moving much slower than the Mustang we just passed..in fact...it was hardly moving at all!
No brake lights, no turn signal, for some reason Gary does not see what I am seeing.
...Gary...
Gary??
GARY WATCH OUT!!
At the last minute, Gary swerves the Charger, as the pickup is making a Uturn on the dark divided highway. The Charger then starts fishtailing.
One way, the other, back, then again...ending up in the slight ditch in the median. I get out, the old pick up just completes the U turn and putt putts away.
We are slightly stuck, the left front bumper in the dirt, as well as the right side rear bumper. What didn't putt putt away were these two college students in the Mustang.
They stopped, told us they were admiring the car as we passed.
It turns out the passenger was cruising the south with his buddy looking for just such a car, in fact, he turns out to be the son of wealth from Ohio and is in to Mopars, Chargers specifically.
They help us get the car back out of the median. The passenger, Steve, asks Gary if he wants to sell the car, has cash in hand, offers him more than twice what Gary paid for it.
Well Gary says he just bought it, but will talk, and talk we did. They followed us back to the house, where they would spend the night, and talked cars and bikes and everything else until almost daybreak.
So now it is Sunday morning, there are church bells in the distance, the smell of bacon and grits filling the air in the neighborhood.
We all get up, Gary with Steve still making offers, are soon exchanging numbers.
Gary and I are leaving to get back to the Charlotte Speedway, for the headline race. As our new friends are watching us leave, our other roommate Ed, says in his southern drawl, hey Gary, how about lighting up the tires?
And it was so. Gary torques it up, and does a huge burnout. The Church bells and the smell of bacon now becomes the sound of squealing tires and burning rubber....on a street that has a hill...which slopes down to a stop sign at a T intersection....
We reached the hill, Gary backs off, hits the brakes, hits them again, hits them a third time, throws the trans into low,
and then (this is where I knew we were in trouble..) into Park.
What are the chances, that in this quiet early morning neighborhood, the only car on the road happens to be John Q Citizen, pushing his Datsun 210 wagon past the intersection trying to make a green light just ahead. The Charger was just finally stopping, but not enough.
I remember the rest in kind of slow motion.
There is Mr. Citizen, turning his head looking at us, his mouth starting to open, which was immediately obscured by a billion little cubes of saftey glass on all the windows on that side of the wagon.
The Charger barely tapped...Barely! As now it is the Datsun wagon that is fishtailing, but this time, it is the asphalt that stops the car as it flips on its roof and skids another hundred feet.
Holy Crap.
The stocky guy in the Datsun, scrambles out of the back of the wagon, he is ok!
The damage to the Charger? The chrome bezel in the corner by the headlight is popped out a little, and a slight scratch on the fender.
Our friends come running down the street, as do many neighbors. The cops show up. One neighbor tells the cop "That blue car was hauling ass!"
Gary is ticketed, Cleanup complete, but before we are on our way, Steve makes again the offer on the car, before they, and we, continue on our respective journeys.
Now its three weeks later, Gary comes home, but he stops at the door and is looking back outside. "What's wrong?" I ask.
"I have to call that kid in Ohio".
Uh oh...Now what.
I go outside and look. This once pristine car as a quarter panel gash that starts from the door all the way to the rear, and a noticeable 2 inch knot in the trunk lid.
Gary had tried to pass a slower car on a busy city street, hit the pedal, the rear wheels spun out causing the rear of the car to slide
in the opposing lane where it received its new racing stripe from a passing semi truck going the other way.
The knot in the trunk lid was caused by the jugs of a motorcycle engine he was taking to a motorcycle shop, which bounced into the lid on impact.
The semi seemed to keep going, as did Gary, who took off for home.
Gary makes the call.
Another week passes and now it happens to be "helmet protest day", as a lot of the biker buds were members of ABATE.
Steve is back in town, knows (and sees) the latest story on the Charger, is staying with us having flown down from Ohio, and still wants to purchase it!
His intention is to drive it home.
After the ABATE run, we are all invited to the Hells Angel affiliated Tarheel Stompers MC club house for booze, beer, pool shooting and barbecued goat.
This son of wealth wide eyed college student and new owner of the Charger From Hell says sure he will go!
Right. We are not going to a frat house party...
Ed's 19 year old younger brother came with me and the new owner of the Charger, me riding shot gun, Eds brother in the back, following several bikes to the clubhouse.
Well, all is well, shots are being put down, at the clubhouse bar as well as shots being made on the pool table, I get my first taste of barbecued goat.
But I guess there was an incident at the table where the goat was.
Did I mention that members of the Outlaw affiliated "Southern Gentlemen" MC club also showed up?
The incident at the table started when Ed's now drunk as hell young brother carved off a piece of the goat, and one of the "Gentlemen" whose club name was Hacksaw, grabbed it out of his hand. A kind of tugging match ensued. The bar room melee that started after that looked like something out of a typical western, fists were flying caused many bruises and black eyes.
I turned around where I had been engaging shots with the bros to see what the commotion was only to receive a sucker punch giving me a perfectly fist shaped and serious black eye. I don't remember too much after that, except me once again riding shotgun in the Charger, and Ed's brother again in the back, but now completing the somewhat awkwardly restored outside of the car by completing the interior, that is, by barfing booze and barbecued goat in the back seat.
Somehow all made it home, and now once again it is early Sunday morning. Once again there are the church bells in the distance, the smell of bacon and grits in the air. This time it is bruised and black eyed Steve now in the driver seat.
The bruised and black eyed Gary, Ed, and I are saying the goodbye as he is taking his not quite clean but more than bruised and black eyed Charger from Hell back to Ohio. Steve puts the Charger in gear, but this time no burnout.
... and to this day I still remember his parting words:
"I just want to say, you guys sure do know how to party!"
.
.
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
Yikes! You've had a bit of excitement in your life.
Smallfoot. True. Every word you wrote is true and heart felt.
Smallfoot. True. Every word you wrote is true and heart felt.
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
Some good people here.
…and that exciting life ended in 1984 after I ended up close to the abyss, and went back to the woman that was always there for me, got married and raised three daughters, and I am most thankful for that! Talk about doing a 180.
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
Hot Rod Cat
Hot Rod Cat
I have a housemate, wont leave me alone
smart and quick, like a cyclone
Always searching, for me and her food
she was snuck into the house by my female brood
I wondered why the bedroom door was shut
they were hiding this roomate and now I know what
...my daughters were hiding, I had no clue
this kitten was here for weeks that were two
But it wasn't long before I was smitten
with this tuxedo breed we called "the Kitten"
And it stuck, Kitten her name now,
one of five we had then, but wow...
What a pain in the butt! When working on car
Guranteed not to be far
On top of the car, with me under hood
I am busy! Leave! This is not good
In the trunk preening, or on the front seat
watching waiting hoping to eat...
..something anything...will you leave me alone?
In my way! I am busy! I will yell and groan
Hand me a wrench then, I will say with a grrr
but all she will do is stare and purr
Even now, as I am here typing this prose
She's in the way of my screen.. and who knows...
...how I get anything done, with her in my way
but she owns me it seems, I guess she will stay.
Hot Rod Cat
I have a housemate, wont leave me alone
smart and quick, like a cyclone
Always searching, for me and her food
she was snuck into the house by my female brood
I wondered why the bedroom door was shut
they were hiding this roomate and now I know what
...my daughters were hiding, I had no clue
this kitten was here for weeks that were two
But it wasn't long before I was smitten
with this tuxedo breed we called "the Kitten"
And it stuck, Kitten her name now,
one of five we had then, but wow...
What a pain in the butt! When working on car
Guranteed not to be far
On top of the car, with me under hood
I am busy! Leave! This is not good
In the trunk preening, or on the front seat
watching waiting hoping to eat...
..something anything...will you leave me alone?
In my way! I am busy! I will yell and groan
Hand me a wrench then, I will say with a grrr
but all she will do is stare and purr
Even now, as I am here typing this prose
She's in the way of my screen.. and who knows...
...how I get anything done, with her in my way
but she owns me it seems, I guess she will stay.
MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
Well Laz, --- you've brought pictures to my mind. I have a Mopar muscle car in my past also, but it taught me to watch what I was doing better than Gary, so I don't have as many stories. I have a few though, and I have one half written in poem form.
I also have a shop cat who sits on top of all of my current projects. She may be preening on top of a shiny car but she left a lot of dirty footprints getting up there. She doesn't like to walk through new wet paint though and that's a good thing.
I also have a shop cat who sits on top of all of my current projects. She may be preening on top of a shiny car but she left a lot of dirty footprints getting up there. She doesn't like to walk through new wet paint though and that's a good thing.
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
I love the Mopars of the 60's. I also had a 66 Charger, bought in Charlotte, the 383 with no power accessories. I brought that back to Florida in 1979.
I also have a car full of cat prints, as I now have only two, the Kitten and a somewhat feral Norwegian that leaves me the occasional rodent gift.
Looking forward to your poem!
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
I have a recent experience that has nothing to do with cars. But, it has left me confused.
Every morning I walk Pearl, the rescue Standard Poodle. A week ago it was no different. She sniffs in our ditch and often makes a deposit there. And so she did. Nothing unusual about this. However, on our returning from the walk there were five water bottles all laying together. Someone must have discarded the trash while driving by. Except they were arranged neatly. Upon closer inspection each one was about half full of a yellow liquid.
No closer inspection for me. I assume it was what you all are thinking. I left them there to be dealt with later.
The next morning the 5 bottles were still there but were joined by an empty glass beer bottle. Our neighborhood is very trash free and people do not litter. I was a bit irritated but didn't clean up. Frankly, I didn't want to touch the water bottles. My intention was to pierce them and let them drain out.
Well, the next morning the beer bottle was gone. Huh? Why?
Two days later three of the water bottles were gone?
This morning... all gone.
This whole situation raises a lot of questions.
How difficult is it to use a water bottle for this purpose?
Why save them up?
Why arrange them?
Dump them in broad daylight?
Who added the beer bottle?
Who picked them up?
Why a few at a time?
Anyhow, I'm glad they're gone and I can concentrate on painting the dragster frame.
Every morning I walk Pearl, the rescue Standard Poodle. A week ago it was no different. She sniffs in our ditch and often makes a deposit there. And so she did. Nothing unusual about this. However, on our returning from the walk there were five water bottles all laying together. Someone must have discarded the trash while driving by. Except they were arranged neatly. Upon closer inspection each one was about half full of a yellow liquid.
No closer inspection for me. I assume it was what you all are thinking. I left them there to be dealt with later.
The next morning the 5 bottles were still there but were joined by an empty glass beer bottle. Our neighborhood is very trash free and people do not litter. I was a bit irritated but didn't clean up. Frankly, I didn't want to touch the water bottles. My intention was to pierce them and let them drain out.
Well, the next morning the beer bottle was gone. Huh? Why?
Two days later three of the water bottles were gone?
This morning... all gone.
This whole situation raises a lot of questions.
How difficult is it to use a water bottle for this purpose?
Why save them up?
Why arrange them?
Dump them in broad daylight?
Who added the beer bottle?
Who picked them up?
Why a few at a time?
Anyhow, I'm glad they're gone and I can concentrate on painting the dragster frame.
MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
This is very cruel of you, -- to share all of these questions, --- and none of the answers. [ddd
hansgoudzwaard
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2012
- Messages
- 732
Anything ....
Most things I recall has a dog in it. ;^)
Most things I recall has a dog in it. ;^)
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
Bob..just now seeing this, perplexing for sure.
I also have the dog part, as I walk my dog at sun up. And yes it irks me to see the pile of bottles at one end of a culvert ditch, minus yellow fluids. which, because it is under the trees, is a great source of compost soil which I dig out for my planters.
Our street is very well cared for, as the owners here since the 20's have passed on their homes to their heirs, but in some places nearby its another story.
I pick up after my dog, so that pile there mr and mrs homeowner, is not mine...er...his.
But occasionally I see the animal feces, bottle or trash on my well kept lawn.
I also have the dog part, as I walk my dog at sun up. And yes it irks me to see the pile of bottles at one end of a culvert ditch, minus yellow fluids. which, because it is under the trees, is a great source of compost soil which I dig out for my planters.
Our street is very well cared for, as the owners here since the 20's have passed on their homes to their heirs, but in some places nearby its another story.
I pick up after my dog, so that pile there mr and mrs homeowner, is not mine...er...his.
But occasionally I see the animal feces, bottle or trash on my well kept lawn.
smallfoot
He's rockin' the "Nuttin Special"!
Hmmm, funny stuff Bob! Just yesterday I wandered over to my lot next door and found a can that had not been there the day before. I remember the can was one my daughter left in my refrigerator on her last visit. It was something I don't normally drink but I remember drinking it to try it. When I was through with it, I placed it in my trash can which has a lid and they are always kept closed. When I picked it up, I noticed a couple of small holes in it on one side and rolled the can over to find holes in the opposite side of the can too. Ok, mystery solved. An animal picked it up and moved it...thing is, how did it get it out of my trash can and also put the lid back on the trash can. Hmmm more mystery!
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
This thread has lain dormant for too long.
Have to spice it up with a poem or a song.
Tell us about the life you've had.
Be it happy or be it sad.
Make it rhyme.
If you have the time.
Or when the thought arose.
You can tell it in prose.
Tell us about a happy moment in your life.
Or an experience that caused you strife.
Or when you looked up at the stars.
And all the constellations looked like cars.
And you knew from that moment on.
That hot rods would always be number one.
Have to spice it up with a poem or a song.
Tell us about the life you've had.
Be it happy or be it sad.
Make it rhyme.
If you have the time.
Or when the thought arose.
You can tell it in prose.
Tell us about a happy moment in your life.
Or an experience that caused you strife.
Or when you looked up at the stars.
And all the constellations looked like cars.
And you knew from that moment on.
That hot rods would always be number one.
soltz
The Rat Captain
bob w your good [cl
quite often we find in the right frame of mind,
a puzzle presents itself to baffle the blind,
to those that see a solution to the mystery
thoughts in my head, its possibly me
while it sounds like a tortuous math problem
one id struggle with calculator and pen
right then the answer as far as i can see
its quite easy if one is adept musically
A lyrical soul with much beer in hand
and probably missing most of his band
would seem hes invented a game of his own
"passing" the beer while singing " 99 bottles of beer on the lawn... hahahahahhahhahaahahha
a puzzle presents itself to baffle the blind,
to those that see a solution to the mystery
thoughts in my head, its possibly me
while it sounds like a tortuous math problem
one id struggle with calculator and pen
right then the answer as far as i can see
its quite easy if one is adept musically
A lyrical soul with much beer in hand
and probably missing most of his band
would seem hes invented a game of his own
"passing" the beer while singing " 99 bottles of beer on the lawn... hahahahahhahhahaahahha
here you go BoB W its me again
your spice request has rattled my brain
ill tell my story embarrassing to say
ive finished only one build to this day.
it started when i was 2, in a late 30's dodge
who wouldve guessed Dad put it on two wheels
much to my delight , "do it again Dad" i squeal..
Who wouldve though late for a days fishing
could start interest in an engines 'missing'
from there my first car show around about five
fifty 3 years later i remember vaguely alive.
my very first car a 54 anglia, sold and made cash
the second a VW beetle custom baja, spent the cash
among many drivers a second chopped anglia-ford
sold that with its British Zephyr V6 , i was bored
Along came the Desoto, the a 54 Dodge
then divorce happened and i paid the price
after all that and back on my feet
i bought a dodge coupe sweet
then a dodge roadster pickup for fun
that morphed to an impossible roadster
now ive collected two Studebakers
both of them mordoors if you will
the 2nd will test my bodyman skill
see the problem i have you may want to know
is a two fold one where the finished thoughts grow.
is very easy for me to see many variants of a project
in the colors of my mind that i eventually reject
and move to the next feeling failure and regret
i really just want to finish something cool
a show stopper for me to enjoy, chopped channelled
in my mind ive bult so many car and trucks
but get so frustrated with myself - wont say that word
but im sure you will know what youve just not heard
sigh .. so i will try again tomorrow with stude number two
will try and remember one thing at a time project stude
your spice request has rattled my brain
ill tell my story embarrassing to say
ive finished only one build to this day.
it started when i was 2, in a late 30's dodge
who wouldve guessed Dad put it on two wheels
much to my delight , "do it again Dad" i squeal..
Who wouldve though late for a days fishing
could start interest in an engines 'missing'
from there my first car show around about five
fifty 3 years later i remember vaguely alive.
my very first car a 54 anglia, sold and made cash
the second a VW beetle custom baja, spent the cash
among many drivers a second chopped anglia-ford
sold that with its British Zephyr V6 , i was bored
Along came the Desoto, the a 54 Dodge
then divorce happened and i paid the price
after all that and back on my feet
i bought a dodge coupe sweet
then a dodge roadster pickup for fun
that morphed to an impossible roadster
now ive collected two Studebakers
both of them mordoors if you will
the 2nd will test my bodyman skill
see the problem i have you may want to know
is a two fold one where the finished thoughts grow.
is very easy for me to see many variants of a project
in the colors of my mind that i eventually reject
and move to the next feeling failure and regret
i really just want to finish something cool
a show stopper for me to enjoy, chopped channelled
in my mind ive bult so many car and trucks
but get so frustrated with myself - wont say that word
but im sure you will know what youve just not heard
sigh .. so i will try again tomorrow with stude number two
will try and remember one thing at a time project stude
lazarat
Well-known member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2018
- Messages
- 657
Bob, I read your prose and see what you are saying
To be honest I got a little tired of playing.
But now that I see this resurrected again
I guess it’s time to pick up my pen.
Crate nothing wrong doors that are four
Some cars look good with the extra door
Not shoe box fords or a chev that’s tri five,
But the suicide Studes look good and are cool to drive
So soon I will think with all of my might
And come up with something that I can write
A poem or a story I’ll pick up my pen
And scribble something I can post here again
To be honest I got a little tired of playing.
But now that I see this resurrected again
I guess it’s time to pick up my pen.
Crate nothing wrong doors that are four
Some cars look good with the extra door
Not shoe box fords or a chev that’s tri five,
But the suicide Studes look good and are cool to drive
So soon I will think with all of my might
And come up with something that I can write
A poem or a story I’ll pick up my pen
And scribble something I can post here again
