I live in a rich suberb of Chicago. These old farts around here drive all sorts of nice cars. When I first started driving, I would rev on vipers, loti, and porsches with my 1988 Buick Regal. It scared the hell out of them. They would roll up their windows, look away, or make a phone call. But sometimes, you would find some mid-life butthole that gets his kicks out of beating kids that make pennies while he makes dollers.
The great thing is that these people are generally wussies. If I exceded ten over the limit, they would brake and flash their lights.
My point is that it's not allways the car that makes the driver, it's the sive of the driver's BALLS!
<img src=/images/forums/snitz/cool.gif width=15 height=15 border=0> "That's right baby, I got big balls!"
<hr width=60% noshade size=1 align=left>
The great thing is that these people are generally wussies. If I exceded ten over the limit, they would brake and flash their lights.
My point is that it's not allways the car that makes the driver, it's the sive of the driver's BALLS!
<img src=/images/forums/snitz/cool.gif width=15 height=15 border=0> "That's right baby, I got big balls!"
<hr width=60% noshade size=1 align=left>