Pre-drill holes and you don’t have to worry about the wood splitting.

Empire was bringing back a character from the first movie, but both turn out to be villains and have ulterior motives.

Years ago, the power driver’s seat in my (now) ex’s Camry quit. Friend and I took off to junkyard and pulled a “new” one.

At last, I can ignore that check-engine light. It’s just a small EGR leak, but it’s enough to get in the way of passing inspection.

Cars and Coffee goes to COTA.

So a 4K restoration is ruined by a gimmick.

Showed the schedule to my gf while waiting for GotG2 at The Ritz. (GO SEE IT! NOW!) The idea of watching flocks of Lambos and Porsches ripping up the track made her drool.

Fifty bucks? And weather reports say it’s gonna be a gorgeous morning.

When my kid was in elementary school, got a call from the ex telling me he was in the nurse’s office, barfing. She’d called the pediatrician and got him an appt, and wanted me to take him.

This is my Dream Car. Someone could give me a brand-new Aston Martin and I’d sell it just to buy an Fj40. Or two. Or three.

Pull that shit on King Ranch turfgrass fields and see what happens.

You might not get disappeared like Luther Blanton and his son, John, back in November, 1936 when they trespassed on the ranch by crawling through the fence surrounding it so they could hunt ducks.

Just make them all like this. Problem solved.

1971 Super Beetle.

I dunno. I had a Houston MC cop get a ticket dismissed after he wrote it because I was polite and respectful. He came back to my car and said to take it to court and he’d get it dismissed. “You have a good attitude and I appreciate it. We need more people like you on the road.” And I was barely 21 or 22.

Moving along on the freeway about 12:30 am. In far-left lane and my exit is coming up. For some reason, I’m stuck in a Charlie Foxtrot at that wee hour. Indicator isn’t helping, and I’m boxed-in. The chucklefuck in front of me is going below the limit and refuses to get out of the way, and naturally the center lane…

The only people who would watch something like this, expecting it to be real, are credulous idiots. Believing it’s real after watching: Abysmally stupid; please don’t reproduce.

Still keeping Austin weird.

Nothing like a happy ending. If it were me, I’d never get rid of that little beast. It’d be my daily driver any day it was running. My Solara would just sit and collect oak pollen and grackle shit. Sure, I’d have to add 30 minutes to my daily commute and I’d have to stay off 35, but so what?

Yeah, rub it in, whydon’tcha

It’s a close race between my ‘04 4Runner and my ‘88 Toyota pickup; I’d love to have either one again. That little truck is what sold me on Toyota, after dealing with about a half-dozen ‘70-’80's American crapcans.