Life has always been pretty good here in Tennessee. My ex-wife (let's call her "Jane" for this story) was a childhood sweetheart, I could not have asked for a better prom date, college romance and eventually, marriage to the love of my life. Like most couples, we had our ups and downs, good times and bad times, especially with the birth of our oldest boy Chauncey. Wonderful child with bad hair, Chauncey never fit in at school or with his local friends. That boy, he only loved one thing (aside from his retainer) and it was that old '56 Corvette Gasser, the one that Jane and I bought with the funds from her Grandpop Otto's inheritance. Jane and I first spied this old drag car at a Cars And Borboun (later to be renamed Cars And Coffee) event in Lynchburg one Saturday morning. We discussed the sale with the proud owner at the time (let's call him "Shlomo" for this story) and as we came to an agreement I will never forget how "Jane" looked at me and said "I will never allow anything about this car to separate us, we are solid as a family, despite Chauncey's one dead eye" and that's what brought us together as a car-loving family, although I didn't really have the knowledge to keep this old car runnin' as well as she could. That's when "Jane" advised me that her tennis instructor "Bubba" was pretty good at setting up the injectors. I later found out that had nothing to do with that old race car. Years later, after a completely amicable divorce ("Jane" got Chauncey and I got the old Corvette, the George Foreman Grill, a brand new Sawzall and the house with no inside locking mechanisms) life has been pretty good here. Hold on ... there's a knock at the door and the police are outside. Probably nothing really, just a Sunday morning visit from some friends, including someone who I have never met, but he must be down on his luck, he has an empty trailer.

Dick

p.s. I never did have the heart to tell little Chauncey or Jane that it's not an old Corvette that we bought, it's a Russian Trabrant with an XP-700 front end.

 

 

 

You better let them have it....they have a RIT.

 

parrot's shelf life is short.... Tomorrow Jane will find out that

(Edited)

 

 

Be a MAN

Any self respecting man (or woman named REBA) from the Oaky state would pull out his 44 six shooter and resolve the problem with a couple of hundred rounds but without one reload. NO EX, NO BUBBA, NO TRAILER, NO NOTHING LEFT.

It is not "Chauncey", it is "CHETTA" as depicted in the prior post

It's 2 am, I must be really desperate for ?????

 

56's sure have been in demand lately. Especially old gassers in TN.

 

 

Jackfit last week, you this. Skyy Vodka?

 

I luv parrot threads, especially when read out of order from the original. You'll be saying to yourself, WTF??!!! Then, you'll read the original, and say to yourself, oh, now I get it.

 

So it was your car after all

 

 

I didn't get the original thread and barely get this one...

Getting into the middle of a property dispute with a vindictive ex-wife and irate estranged husband -- err...yeah ask any cop what his/her #1 most dangerous dispatcher call is...

Totally avoidable and you can still get the car sans the drama...

 

 

 

Ray's post was hilarious enough... but I'm still laughing tears at Shultzie's video - THANKS GUYS, I needed this today!!!

 

Geez, after a little searching for the original thread, I finally got it!

 

 

Ok Ray Bob.... dang it.... those of us from up in the hollers have been patiently observing this discussion, but now we're wondering which of our 20 guns is the most suitable to protect our honor. Most likely the long gun because that what we made famous using back durin' the war of aggression..... (yep... look up about my bushwacking relatives from the Bloody 13th district) and later when the revenuers started sniffing around the holler... well they didn't. But Ray Bob.... I understand how you're a little ticked about the little woman and that old plastic car... But when you accuse us and insult Mr Jack of using that precious water pouring out of our cave in Lynchburg to make bourbon.... by god..... well.... it's just like all the old cannons on the square in front of our courthouse... theys all pointing nawth. Ray Bob.... the women and the cars is one thing... but don't insult with the mash..... Ray Bob... I don't think you're from around here calling our whisky the sissified name of bourbon.... we'll all be down on the square at noon Ray Bob.