Question of the Day: Got Any Funny Car Stories?
Doom, gloom, Chapter 11, recession, housing crisis, credit crunch, Iranian missile tests, Dodge Journey — how much more bad news can we take? Well, lots. But that's not the issue. The issue is that I thought of a funny story and I'm going to share it with you and then ask you to do the same. Capiche? A few years ago I was dating a girl. One night some friends were in town and the four of us went out for dinner and drinks in their rented PT Cruiser Convertible. My gal had some fish and chips and perhaps one two many beers, though I think something may have been wrong with the fish. She got sick on the way to the car. Messy sick. Then, she demanded we put the top down, because she was still feeling awful. I got roped into driving because my friends also had too much booze. And then, as George Carlin termed it, the poor thing had an involuntary personal protein spill. At about 50 mph. And her spill got picked up by the wind and flung into the back seat. All over our out of town guests. The funny part is that later that night (after lots and lots of soapy scrubbing by yours truly) she asked, "What does PT stand for?" My friend answered, "Puke Tainer." You?
True story: Sophomore year of college, and 3 girls from my high school come to visit my school. I promise to take them out and show them a good time. On a Friday night in Abilene Texas for 4 underaged kids, this entails a 25 minute drive to Anson, TX to see the world famous "Anson Lights" (Google it). I happened to drive a short cab dodge dakota (2 seats only), so I borrowed my roommates CJ-5. 1/2 way there, the U-joint connecting the front drive shaft to the transfer case gives out. The drive shaft beats on the underside of the floor like you wouldn't believe at 75 mph. I slowed to a stop and called my roommate, who brought his tools and my truck, disconnected the front drive shaft, and drove it home. Since my roommate had driven my truck there, and we didn't want the night to be a bust, we decided to pile into the truck and head on out to Anson. I had sleeping bags in the back, so 2 of the ladies shielded themselves from the West Texas winter winds by crawling in. We went, saw the lights (the are real) and headed back. One of Anson's finest decided that I should slow down, and pulled me over to tell me so. Roscoe P Whatever walks up to the cab of the truck and begins to give me the "...boy, do you know how fast you were going..." speech when he notices a rustling in the bed of the truck. A lovely teenage girl pokes her little nose and eyes out at him, blinking coyly. "Boy, did you know there were 2 girls in the back of your truck?" Wish I had the guts to give him one of the 20 possible punchlines, but I didn't. The Anson po-lice weren't known for their sense of humor back then, and I didn't want to test them.
so how did the car drive ? ?
I was in high school. This was about 1988 or so. I was dating this girl. I think it was our first date, actually. She was horny. I was, too. Who wasn't? We were in high school. I just said that -- remember? Anyway...we went to go park my mother's Plymouth Sundance somewhere for a little bit of "extracurricular activities," and in the course of engaging in said activities in the backseat, I rested my head against the left rear quarter's window. The window, one that was designed never to open but nevertheless was held closed with just one bolt at its corner, suddenly popped open, and the screw (no pun intended...) assembly flew out of the vehicle and onto the ground. ...somewhere. OMFG!!!!!!!!!!! It was dark. I freaked. We didn't finish our "activities." But I put a quick, "unsatisfactory" end to them, "got decent" as quickly as I can remember ever doing so, hopped out of the vehicle, felt around on the ground for the missing bits (man...so many unintended puns in this story...), found them, and placed them in a receptacle inside the vehicle. I proceeded to drive my date home. She was perplexed as to why I was so freaked out. I guess she didn't understand that my mother was very much against me enjoying "extracurricular activity" with females -- and there really wasn't any way I could think of to explain why the rear side window had popped OUT (that is, without somehow trying to explain why the hell I was in the backseat...my mother was no idiot). I was already out past my curfew. No matter -- I HAD TO FIX THE DAMN WINDOW. I sped home. About two miles from the house, I pulled onto a road that led to a yet-to-be-inhabited new housing development area. The cul desac (sp?) was well out of sight from the main road, surrounded by trees. It was midnight -- very dark and scary outside. Luckily, my favorite radio station was playing a block of Led Zeppelin. I blasted the stereo, opened the doors, turned the high beams on and fixed that friggin' window by about 12:30am. I then drove home. About 500 feet from the house, I began the oft-employed, elaborate process of "getting home after my curfew without my parents figuring it out." I placed the vehicle in neutral (fewer revs equaled quieter, I used to argue to myself). I turned off the headlights and coasted into the driveway with just the parking lights lighting my way. After the car came to a rest, I shut it off and entered the house via the basement door. I removed my shoes at the bottom of the stairs and ascended to the main level of the house. I then removed the rest of my clothes, down to but not including my underwear, before ascending the final set of stairs to the floor of the house with the bedrooms. There, I went to bed and, if I recall, probably "took care of business" before falling asleep. Needless to say...ah, WTF? There's no moral to this story we haven't already heard -- at least I don't think there is. To this day, neither of my parents knows this happened. I intend to keep it this way.
I was dating this girl back in high school so it had to be like 90 or 91 that had a 90 camaro. We was making out on this back road. Well in the 90 camaro the power window buttons are in the middle of the console. Well we was doing are thing and it was getting pretty hot Well her leg moved and hit the power window switch. She start to really yell i was thinking oh yeah im really doing something. But what was really going on was her hair was caught in the window so the yelling and ahhh's wasnt from me but her hair getting pulled by the window ha ha funny right. I ran into her and her new husband we talked i noticed she had short hair so i made the comment did you go and get your hair cut like that or did you get another camaro we laughed but her husband was in the dark