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What was it that Bill the Cat used to say??
Pfffffttttt!
Swapped my rubber donuts and didn't even need those little covers!
took it for a ride around Beaufort today.....nothing fell off!!
gn
Pfffffttttt!
Swapped my rubber donuts and didn't even need those little covers!
took it for a ride around Beaufort today.....nothing fell off!!
gn
Glad you didn't have to dash inland and that everything's okay down there.
Yup, everything's fine. We've had minor wind storms here that produced more yard debris than Hannah did. I guess we were just on the lucky, SW corner of the storm this time as it passed us about 80 miles out over the Gulf Stream.
Had everything ready to go, too....Hurricane shutters were all on (we never took them down when we arrived South), the truck was fueled and ready, overnights were packed, had a camp stove, camp lantern, food, 8 gallons of water, case of wine, bottle of Rum (for possible spider bites) books, chainsaw and gas, life vests for the Jacks, Marine/NOAA handy/talkie, several hand-held GPS's, several first aide kits, small collection of LED flashlights, hand-crank radio/flashlight and Pearl was backed in to the garage in case we decided to take her along on the trailer. All in all, we figured we could be on the road with the rest of the traffic in about an hour once given the bug-out call.
We've heard horror stories, since, about the need to bug out as early as possible. Leave as soon as the call is heard and you get into heavy traffic. Leave a few hours later and you get into almost stand-still traffic on either of the two evacuation routes available. Due to the geography here, that's all there is for Beaufort, and one of those is shared with part of Hilton Head Island - not cool). Taking "back roads" is out, since there really aren't any that parallel the evac routes, so we're stuck. "Leave Early, Leave Often!"
At least all of our stuff is store-able so we'll be ready for the next one (Ike? Josephine? Omar?)
One of the dumber things we've heard is that most all Southern states provide for evacuation shelters elsewhere in the state, away from the brunt of the storm (that's certainly not dumb) but NONE OF THEM ACCEPT PETS!!!
I don't know about some of you, but our two Jack Russells are certainly part of our family and they WILL go where-ever we go. After the horror show of Katrina and the thousands of frightened, injured, sick, lost and homeless pets that had to be abandoned because of this same nonsense, not to mention the vast expense of gathering them up and caring for them afterwards, you'd think that state and local governments would know better. I can't expect much from the Feds, but the more local govt's should certainly do better than that.....
Getting back to the torsion bar body plugs, I think Alan's idea of putting small louvered openings there is wicked cool. Functional in more ways than one, but the need to have a hole there to service the rubber bushings is another Urban myth now dashed.
Getting the torsion bars out, however, (not that I can think of a reason to do so), certainly would require a body hole of some sort.
Unless you had some sort of cool, clam-shell-like rear end of the car that swung up out of the way, but nobody would ever do something like that, right??
;>)
Had everything ready to go, too....Hurricane shutters were all on (we never took them down when we arrived South), the truck was fueled and ready, overnights were packed, had a camp stove, camp lantern, food, 8 gallons of water, case of wine, bottle of Rum (for possible spider bites) books, chainsaw and gas, life vests for the Jacks, Marine/NOAA handy/talkie, several hand-held GPS's, several first aide kits, small collection of LED flashlights, hand-crank radio/flashlight and Pearl was backed in to the garage in case we decided to take her along on the trailer. All in all, we figured we could be on the road with the rest of the traffic in about an hour once given the bug-out call.
We've heard horror stories, since, about the need to bug out as early as possible. Leave as soon as the call is heard and you get into heavy traffic. Leave a few hours later and you get into almost stand-still traffic on either of the two evacuation routes available. Due to the geography here, that's all there is for Beaufort, and one of those is shared with part of Hilton Head Island - not cool). Taking "back roads" is out, since there really aren't any that parallel the evac routes, so we're stuck. "Leave Early, Leave Often!"
At least all of our stuff is store-able so we'll be ready for the next one (Ike? Josephine? Omar?)
One of the dumber things we've heard is that most all Southern states provide for evacuation shelters elsewhere in the state, away from the brunt of the storm (that's certainly not dumb) but NONE OF THEM ACCEPT PETS!!!
I don't know about some of you, but our two Jack Russells are certainly part of our family and they WILL go where-ever we go. After the horror show of Katrina and the thousands of frightened, injured, sick, lost and homeless pets that had to be abandoned because of this same nonsense, not to mention the vast expense of gathering them up and caring for them afterwards, you'd think that state and local governments would know better. I can't expect much from the Feds, but the more local govt's should certainly do better than that.....
Getting back to the torsion bar body plugs, I think Alan's idea of putting small louvered openings there is wicked cool. Functional in more ways than one, but the need to have a hole there to service the rubber bushings is another Urban myth now dashed.
Getting the torsion bars out, however, (not that I can think of a reason to do so), certainly would require a body hole of some sort.
Unless you had some sort of cool, clam-shell-like rear end of the car that swung up out of the way, but nobody would ever do something like that, right??
;>)
Glad we got THAT straight! LOL
Gordon, this was a joke post, right ? ! ? !
"I don't know about some of you, but our two Jack Russells are certainly part of our family and they WILL go where-ever we go."
You bring your boys and someone else brings the twin pit bulls (or whatever breed is currently in the news for chewing children's heads off) and the third guy shows up with something worse . . .
You KNOW how the story ends. Animals are always part of the family, unfortunately their part of YOUR family, and that guy's are part of his, and all of the animals are going on instinct just trying to protect their "family" in a time of danger and stress, and they're stressed beyond measure at this point in the drama.
Meanwhile I'm just there trying to score a cot for the night and hoping to keep all of that spraying dog blood from ruining my computer 'cause I've got something due next week. And the family next to me has two little kids jammed under their bed screaming bloody murder.
And the mayhem is spreading like pond ripples throughout the shelter, and one of the National Guardsmen has just fired a warning shot, and two chicks throw up releasing a handful of alien parasites. FEMA contacts the CDC and the whole place is clamped down within the hour, but one of your dogs is infected now (you HADDA brings the f%ck!ng dogs, didn't you ? ! ? ! ? ! ?), slips through the perimeter and by morning the pandemic has spread to nearly a three fourths of the Mid-Atlantic States.
Come the following afternoon, the pandemic is a full blown epidemic; Canada and Mexico officially close their borders. Cuba has accepted "strategic aid" from Moscow, Europe has issued a quarantine order, South America's blockaded South Coastal waters, and Mexico has gone sh!t#ouse and made sombreros required head wear under penalty of death. Just south of our once towering nation where, "Speak softly and carry a big stick." was nearly a national motto, Mexico has decided that, "Shout loudly and wear a big A$$ hat!" will be the order of the day.
Years later, the former United States, now a gutted wasteland lays fallow and nearly uninhabitable. Small pockets of survivors, immune to the plague that your Russel helped spread across the continent, have banded together to try to just stay alive, and among them a single hope resides. A man, advanced in years yet still vibrant and vital and holding a small flame alive within him. A dream if you will of a new, brighter, better United States.
Still clutching his dog blood stained computer. Clotted with fur and hardened animal skin, still containing that one assignment that was never turned in. Never uploaded to a server which no longer . . . serves . . . this man comes forth to lead the survivors of a once great nation, back once again.
Once again.
To Greatness.
To a great land full of lots of great stuff, and NO PETS ALOUD ! ! !
"I don't know about some of you, but our two Jack Russells are certainly part of our family and they WILL go where-ever we go."
You bring your boys and someone else brings the twin pit bulls (or whatever breed is currently in the news for chewing children's heads off) and the third guy shows up with something worse . . .
You KNOW how the story ends. Animals are always part of the family, unfortunately their part of YOUR family, and that guy's are part of his, and all of the animals are going on instinct just trying to protect their "family" in a time of danger and stress, and they're stressed beyond measure at this point in the drama.
Meanwhile I'm just there trying to score a cot for the night and hoping to keep all of that spraying dog blood from ruining my computer 'cause I've got something due next week. And the family next to me has two little kids jammed under their bed screaming bloody murder.
And the mayhem is spreading like pond ripples throughout the shelter, and one of the National Guardsmen has just fired a warning shot, and two chicks throw up releasing a handful of alien parasites. FEMA contacts the CDC and the whole place is clamped down within the hour, but one of your dogs is infected now (you HADDA brings the f%ck!ng dogs, didn't you ? ! ? ! ? ! ?), slips through the perimeter and by morning the pandemic has spread to nearly a three fourths of the Mid-Atlantic States.
Come the following afternoon, the pandemic is a full blown epidemic; Canada and Mexico officially close their borders. Cuba has accepted "strategic aid" from Moscow, Europe has issued a quarantine order, South America's blockaded South Coastal waters, and Mexico has gone sh!t#ouse and made sombreros required head wear under penalty of death. Just south of our once towering nation where, "Speak softly and carry a big stick." was nearly a national motto, Mexico has decided that, "Shout loudly and wear a big A$$ hat!" will be the order of the day.
Years later, the former United States, now a gutted wasteland lays fallow and nearly uninhabitable. Small pockets of survivors, immune to the plague that your Russel helped spread across the continent, have banded together to try to just stay alive, and among them a single hope resides. A man, advanced in years yet still vibrant and vital and holding a small flame alive within him. A dream if you will of a new, brighter, better United States.
Still clutching his dog blood stained computer. Clotted with fur and hardened animal skin, still containing that one assignment that was never turned in. Never uploaded to a server which no longer . . . serves . . . this man comes forth to lead the survivors of a once great nation, back once again.
Once again.
To Greatness.
To a great land full of lots of great stuff, and NO PETS ALOUD ! ! !
Screw ya........
I'm bringing my Jacks anyway......
But here's one for all you "Arteests" struggling with deadlines and uncooperative servers....Is Newt still around?? HE thought he was great (along with Billy Bulger...)
http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee277/devildiverdown/Bill-742002.jpg
I can just see all those dogs in the shelter, eyeing this discheveled, Jerry Garcia look-alike guy off in a corner, huddled on his govt-issued cot, trying, hoping, praying that he can get a wireless lock to upload his hastily-finished work to his server before his deadline closes.....
The dogs begin to close in, eyeing the unkempt hair, the torn and soiled tee-shirt and Zoobaz pants (both black), the spectacles cracked during the storm-tossed struggle to the shelter, and wondering if a good chomp on the leg would be worth the subsequent bad taste. The nastiest looking one, a miniature "Peeka-Poo" starts to make a dash when a voice calls out: "Honey-Bun!! Y'all leave that nice 'Beatnik' alone! He don't mean you no harm!....."
Honey-Bun stops and retreats to the cot of his owner....a skinny woman surrounded by piles and piles of newspapers she "rescued" from her single-wide and brought to the shelter. She smiles at our intrepid "arteest", showing her three teeth, but shouts across this simple warning:
"Y'all be lucky if one-a them Jacks don't take a wizz on your keyboard!"
;>)
I'm bringing my Jacks anyway......
But here's one for all you "Arteests" struggling with deadlines and uncooperative servers....Is Newt still around?? HE thought he was great (along with Billy Bulger...)
http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee277/devildiverdown/Bill-742002.jpg
I can just see all those dogs in the shelter, eyeing this discheveled, Jerry Garcia look-alike guy off in a corner, huddled on his govt-issued cot, trying, hoping, praying that he can get a wireless lock to upload his hastily-finished work to his server before his deadline closes.....
The dogs begin to close in, eyeing the unkempt hair, the torn and soiled tee-shirt and Zoobaz pants (both black), the spectacles cracked during the storm-tossed struggle to the shelter, and wondering if a good chomp on the leg would be worth the subsequent bad taste. The nastiest looking one, a miniature "Peeka-Poo" starts to make a dash when a voice calls out: "Honey-Bun!! Y'all leave that nice 'Beatnik' alone! He don't mean you no harm!....."
Honey-Bun stops and retreats to the cot of his owner....a skinny woman surrounded by piles and piles of newspapers she "rescued" from her single-wide and brought to the shelter. She smiles at our intrepid "arteest", showing her three teeth, but shouts across this simple warning:
"Y'all be lucky if one-a them Jacks don't take a wizz on your keyboard!"
;>)
Gordon,
The only reason to have the plugs is to allow the removal of the torsion rods. Since the teeth on the inner end are of different size than the outer and by a combination of moves you can adjust the ride win infinitely small increments. I created those "holes" in my speedie by attaching course sand paper to a wooden disc stuck on the teeth of a hole saw. The disc was just slightly larger than the hole I would later cut, after the depth of the perimeter rim would allow the covers to seat flush with the body. I bought the discs or covers from Stoddards. Rather inexpensive considering the source. They needed a little adjusting to fit the contour of the body. The problem with cutting in such holes in a finished car is the paint. The recess will be naked glass and need to be painted the body color as will the covers.
I really enjoyed reading "The Planet of the Dogs"!
The only reason to have the plugs is to allow the removal of the torsion rods. Since the teeth on the inner end are of different size than the outer and by a combination of moves you can adjust the ride win infinitely small increments. I created those "holes" in my speedie by attaching course sand paper to a wooden disc stuck on the teeth of a hole saw. The disc was just slightly larger than the hole I would later cut, after the depth of the perimeter rim would allow the covers to seat flush with the body. I bought the discs or covers from Stoddards. Rather inexpensive considering the source. They needed a little adjusting to fit the contour of the body. The problem with cutting in such holes in a finished car is the paint. The recess will be naked glass and need to be painted the body color as will the covers.
I really enjoyed reading "The Planet of the Dogs"!
Seems I've somehow stumbled upon the sci-fi creative writing forum, located in a parallel universe to one for crazed Speedster car fanatics.
"So long, and thanks for all the fish".
Oh....and watch out for those "Vogons"
Oh....and watch out for those "Vogons"
When the universe seems like it's gone mad just remember "Don't panic!" And always carry a towel.
Gordon,
A hand held GPS will not be of much use when the Earth and all it's satelites have been removed to make way for the "Ultimate Big Dig". The Jackies , however,will come in handy to keep the lower life forms honest. My Abby ruled her universe with an iron paw for 17+ years. She is now in charge of the backyard flower garden and has been re-in"car"nated in arrest me red. Al
A hand held GPS will not be of much use when the Earth and all it's satelites have been removed to make way for the "Ultimate Big Dig". The Jackies , however,will come in handy to keep the lower life forms honest. My Abby ruled her universe with an iron paw for 17+ years. She is now in charge of the backyard flower garden and has been re-in"car"nated in arrest me red. Al
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This is very funny stuff. You guys are nuts.
We're not nuts....Lane's a Software Weanie! Official Propeller Head!!
Me? I started out in software, but saw the error of my ways and gravitated toward Hardware instead for a while, and then gravitated some more and found that I could make more money if I managed bunches of those weanies instead of actually being one.
Speaking of hardware and software, anyone else heard that they're starting up that super-colossal particle accelerator/collider this week at CERN near Geneva? Yeah! The very same one that Dan Brown wrote a story around in "Devils and Angels" (Terrific book! Couldn't put it down!)
Bets are on whether they create a black hole and suck us all in or discover the "God Particle" instead.
Or maybe they'll just smash a few Protons and go home for a beer....
Me? I started out in software, but saw the error of my ways and gravitated toward Hardware instead for a while, and then gravitated some more and found that I could make more money if I managed bunches of those weanies instead of actually being one.
Speaking of hardware and software, anyone else heard that they're starting up that super-colossal particle accelerator/collider this week at CERN near Geneva? Yeah! The very same one that Dan Brown wrote a story around in "Devils and Angels" (Terrific book! Couldn't put it down!)
Bets are on whether they create a black hole and suck us all in or discover the "God Particle" instead.
Or maybe they'll just smash a few Protons and go home for a beer....
Is THAT happening this week? The one built under the Alps?
I sure do hope that something ABSOLUTELY catastrophic occurs, don't you? I mean, like you said, massive black hole, hand of god kinda thing . . . wouldn't it just be WONDERFUL if something were to happened that would just alter everything in an instant? Suddenly, absolutely, irrevocably, changed ! !
That was the old world, and WHAM-O, here's the new one ! !
I just LIVE for that day, maybe it's gonna be this Thursday.
I'm pretty much hoping that we all get catapulted backwards in time 50 years, and I'm the only one in the entire world who remembers everything. Actually . . . I'm kinda counting on something like that taking place, have been for a while now.
This Thursday would be good . . .
I sure do hope that something ABSOLUTELY catastrophic occurs, don't you? I mean, like you said, massive black hole, hand of god kinda thing . . . wouldn't it just be WONDERFUL if something were to happened that would just alter everything in an instant? Suddenly, absolutely, irrevocably, changed ! !
That was the old world, and WHAM-O, here's the new one ! !
I just LIVE for that day, maybe it's gonna be this Thursday.
I'm pretty much hoping that we all get catapulted backwards in time 50 years, and I'm the only one in the entire world who remembers everything. Actually . . . I'm kinda counting on something like that taking place, have been for a while now.
This Thursday would be good . . .
This Thursday would suck. Friday, maybe?
The body plugs are up to over 10 bucks now!
I like the make-your-own scheme, if needed.
I like the make-your-own scheme, if needed.