Fullboogie
King of the Ski - OG Jr.
...where every fucking possible thing goes wrong? Yeah, had one of those today. The goal was to install springs, shocks/struts, LCA and relo brackets, and a panhard bar. 4-5 hours tops, with beer breaks. But no, my car just would not cooperate. It took ten fucking hours with a lift and air tools.
Bolts missing from packages? Check.
Upper strut mounts exploding ball bearings 30 feet in every direction? Check. (fuck those little mother fuckers).
Every single Ford dealership in Houston shutting down at 3pm so I can't buy a new strut mount? Check (FUCK YOU Houston dealerships. I fucking hate every single one of you).
Stripped threads? Check.
Right rear shock will not fucking line up with the lower bolt hole for absolutely no reason? Check.
Camber bolts do not have the arrow imprinted on them so as to tell what fucking direction to face the bolt head? Check (fuck you, BMR).
Left rear control arm in the lower hole, right rear in the upper hole? Check.
Can't get the right rear parking brake cable back in the receiver? Check.
Can't find two lug nuts? Check.
Right rear tire sticking out like a 1982 Camaro and left rear 2 inches inside the fender well? Check.
Battery dead because the fucking trunk lid was open for ten hours? Check.
I wish this rant would make me feel better, but it doesn't. I still feel like caving in both quarter panels with a lead pipe right now.
About the only thing that didn't go wrong was the car didn't fall off the lift. But I'm sure that will happen tomorrow when I pull the nose off to install a new heat exchanger.
Dear Car - Fuck You. You are going to sit in the garage all fucking week with greasy hand prints all over you, because I hate you. Little bitch.
Bolts missing from packages? Check.
Upper strut mounts exploding ball bearings 30 feet in every direction? Check. (fuck those little mother fuckers).
Every single Ford dealership in Houston shutting down at 3pm so I can't buy a new strut mount? Check (FUCK YOU Houston dealerships. I fucking hate every single one of you).
Stripped threads? Check.
Right rear shock will not fucking line up with the lower bolt hole for absolutely no reason? Check.
Camber bolts do not have the arrow imprinted on them so as to tell what fucking direction to face the bolt head? Check (fuck you, BMR).
Left rear control arm in the lower hole, right rear in the upper hole? Check.
Can't get the right rear parking brake cable back in the receiver? Check.
Can't find two lug nuts? Check.
Right rear tire sticking out like a 1982 Camaro and left rear 2 inches inside the fender well? Check.
Battery dead because the fucking trunk lid was open for ten hours? Check.
I wish this rant would make me feel better, but it doesn't. I still feel like caving in both quarter panels with a lead pipe right now.
About the only thing that didn't go wrong was the car didn't fall off the lift. But I'm sure that will happen tomorrow when I pull the nose off to install a new heat exchanger.
Dear Car - Fuck You. You are going to sit in the garage all fucking week with greasy hand prints all over you, because I hate you. Little bitch.
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