Sometimes I wonder if Buck likes my little car. He’s a straight-up, V8, American Muscle kind of guy, and he gives me a hard time about my Celica. It doesn’t help that I woefully miscalculated the horsepower to weight ratio for it when I agreed to drag race it against his 1969 Dodge Charger. I … Continue reading A 130hp GoCart
When you drive a CJ, you must handle the CJ.
Every two-bit writer has an instruction manual on how to write a novel, and some aspiring writers take the texts as gospel, rigidly conforming to the prescribed method used by this or that particular writer. However, the fact remains that what works for one person does not always work for another. For me, a method that works today might not work for me tomorrow, and some days the juice just refuses to flow. For me, the trick is to figure out how to unclog the pipes.
“Badass” was the last term anyone would use to describe my first two vehicles. They were the soccer mom rigs of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. The only claim to coolness either could make was that they rode like boats and had V8 engines.