iraziel
04-22-2008, 07:19 AM
***WARNING: LONG POST***
-1- is from a ricer forum (http://www.ricerforums.com/index.php/topic,280.0.html)
-2- is from a local forum...best quote evarrr
-----
-1-
A Ricer's Kill Story
I was drivin around minding my own bidness in my Civic DX bubbleback
thats hooked up I got the windows tinted, chromed out everything. Even my hubcaps.. s**t they almost look like rims when im drivin. I pulled up at
a stoplight next to my worst enemy... a domestic. I looked over, it had
tennesee plates, flowmasters, big daisy musclecar wheels, big radials,
nascar stickers, and rust spots. That s**t sounded mean, yeah... that
was one fast lookin winnebago.
I cranked down my window and yelled at the big inbred southern hick.
What you doin sucka? He tilted his orange hunting hat and said I'm movin . I told him that he would be movin a hell lot faster in a Honda. Thats when he started revvin his engine... man it sounded mean. d**n I wonder why hes even botherin to race... I guess he didnt see the Type R and GT-R badges I bought at pep boys. I was a little worried at first cause my car aint that fast off the line, but I took a screwdriver and punched like thirty holes all over my rusty muffler to ease backpressure. So along with my aluminum wing I knew I had him on top end. I took my car out of drive into neutral and revved it up as high as it could go. I turned my upside down tennis visor backwards so it wouldnt obstruct my view of the road. Then I buckled my Type R yellow 4 point harness and sweated it out for the green.
BAMMMMM! The light wuz GREEN... All hell broke lose! I dropped it into
drive and my tires almost screeched a little bit... I think. The winnebago was haulin butt though... BAMMM!!! I pretend to manually shift it into second. I gots the timing down now, so my pretend shifts are always on target with the real ones. s**t! That winnebago is dead even with me. I hear his revs rising and hes haulin butt. BAMMM!!! I pretend to shift it into third... s**t! bad pretend shift, he starts pullin on me so I make a pissed face and pretend to miss third. To make it worse... I hit a pothole and see one of my hubcaps fly off and hit his mobile home. ****! That s**t cost 6 dollars! Oh no... Im roundin out third and this guys still pullin hard Im almost at his bumper. I think really hard to myself What would the guy from The Fast and the Furious do? Oh YEAH! The little red button on my steering wheel. Hit the little red BUTTON!!!!! I reach down and hit the button!!! Oh ****! I dont have nitrous!
The little red button is only to turn on all fiftyseven of my custom
smurf blue euro foglights!!! but this works to my advantage anyway, blinding the domestic redneck racer temporarily. My car hits fourth finally... I pull up to his rear quarterpanel while the blinded redneck fumbles around for his ZZ top ray ban's. I know Im gonna win now. YES! I pull past the redneck reaching the death defying speed of 55 miles per hour. Then throw on all 20 of my euro hazard lights!!!!! Whew... that was close! After this race I poked more holes into my muffler to make sure it wouldnt happen again. Chalk another one up for the CIVIC!!!
---------------------
-2-
......or if your a loser who drives a Civic with a type R sticker, racing stripes, blasting really bad rap music through your suburban area with your pretentious "Im 21 but Im still in high school girlfriend" while driving with your hand up on the top of the steering wheel exposing your underdeveloped pasty white vitamin deficient arm and wearing your backwards BS upside down visor hat while feeling the tacky as a "Florida vacation" single diamond earring in your ear, If you are this person...with any luck the sun in its precise celestial positioning as you putter on by...will reflect its scorching rays into your earring, bouncing intensely in your rearview, and finally making contact with your eyes through the thin cheap lens of $5 gas station Oakley rip off glasses.. then burning your retinal cones into smoldering melting gobs of ocular material as you are blinded by the purest form of energy in our known universe, and as you scream no one can help or hear you because they don't know what is going on since the weed whacker sound of your ****ty tiny little muffler which makes the Civic sound like a 747 rages on underneath making everyone turn at disgust and comment to their husbands or wives how much of a dickweed you are by attaching that automotive abnormality to your stock economical daily driver engineered by Japanese Automotive specialists to fit the needs for entry level business workers in their early 30's, however your pathetic looking $11,000 car which you want to look like a friggin spaceship with redundant ground effects is now out of control since you are blinded, and as your car plunges off the side of a cliff while you scream in the purest form of terror while knowing you have lived a horrid excuse for a life, by doing the bare minimum in every facet of existence, while getting fired from one pathetic job to another, the majority of your time spent slacking smoking dope, getting kicked out of school, polishing your "game" on sweet innocent underage girls you eventually 'de flower' through exhaustive yet successful attempts to get the date rapist drugs you have stashed in the glove compartment, into your poor victims drinks while offering them to take the "Pepsi Challenge" while making your mother hate you, and your poor father who wishes he had a daughter instead of your pathetic ass, since a girl would be more of a man than you ever were, like the occasion when you were hit in the arm by a wild pitch in little league, then you cried like a fat kid who dropped his ice cream cone, I'm already envisioning you impacting the rocks below, in a spectacular fireball ignited from the residue hairspray from your girlfriend plastered in the fabric passenger seat, blinded by your earring, deafened by the loud "Bling Blingin", and I will smile and roll around on the ground in orgasmic delight while you are consumed by flames whose intense heat and fury will liquefy your bone marrow that I will use to make jelly beans out of and eat them happily at your funeral as midgets dressed like Alex 6005321 from "A Clockwork Orange" dance around your coffin to loud industrial style techno music and strobe lights, and I will sleep soundly at night knowing another successful conquest of Darwinism has been attained.
-1- is from a ricer forum (http://www.ricerforums.com/index.php/topic,280.0.html)
-2- is from a local forum...best quote evarrr
-----
-1-
A Ricer's Kill Story
I was drivin around minding my own bidness in my Civic DX bubbleback
thats hooked up I got the windows tinted, chromed out everything. Even my hubcaps.. s**t they almost look like rims when im drivin. I pulled up at
a stoplight next to my worst enemy... a domestic. I looked over, it had
tennesee plates, flowmasters, big daisy musclecar wheels, big radials,
nascar stickers, and rust spots. That s**t sounded mean, yeah... that
was one fast lookin winnebago.
I cranked down my window and yelled at the big inbred southern hick.
What you doin sucka? He tilted his orange hunting hat and said I'm movin . I told him that he would be movin a hell lot faster in a Honda. Thats when he started revvin his engine... man it sounded mean. d**n I wonder why hes even botherin to race... I guess he didnt see the Type R and GT-R badges I bought at pep boys. I was a little worried at first cause my car aint that fast off the line, but I took a screwdriver and punched like thirty holes all over my rusty muffler to ease backpressure. So along with my aluminum wing I knew I had him on top end. I took my car out of drive into neutral and revved it up as high as it could go. I turned my upside down tennis visor backwards so it wouldnt obstruct my view of the road. Then I buckled my Type R yellow 4 point harness and sweated it out for the green.
BAMMMMM! The light wuz GREEN... All hell broke lose! I dropped it into
drive and my tires almost screeched a little bit... I think. The winnebago was haulin butt though... BAMMM!!! I pretend to manually shift it into second. I gots the timing down now, so my pretend shifts are always on target with the real ones. s**t! That winnebago is dead even with me. I hear his revs rising and hes haulin butt. BAMMM!!! I pretend to shift it into third... s**t! bad pretend shift, he starts pullin on me so I make a pissed face and pretend to miss third. To make it worse... I hit a pothole and see one of my hubcaps fly off and hit his mobile home. ****! That s**t cost 6 dollars! Oh no... Im roundin out third and this guys still pullin hard Im almost at his bumper. I think really hard to myself What would the guy from The Fast and the Furious do? Oh YEAH! The little red button on my steering wheel. Hit the little red BUTTON!!!!! I reach down and hit the button!!! Oh ****! I dont have nitrous!
The little red button is only to turn on all fiftyseven of my custom
smurf blue euro foglights!!! but this works to my advantage anyway, blinding the domestic redneck racer temporarily. My car hits fourth finally... I pull up to his rear quarterpanel while the blinded redneck fumbles around for his ZZ top ray ban's. I know Im gonna win now. YES! I pull past the redneck reaching the death defying speed of 55 miles per hour. Then throw on all 20 of my euro hazard lights!!!!! Whew... that was close! After this race I poked more holes into my muffler to make sure it wouldnt happen again. Chalk another one up for the CIVIC!!!
---------------------
-2-
......or if your a loser who drives a Civic with a type R sticker, racing stripes, blasting really bad rap music through your suburban area with your pretentious "Im 21 but Im still in high school girlfriend" while driving with your hand up on the top of the steering wheel exposing your underdeveloped pasty white vitamin deficient arm and wearing your backwards BS upside down visor hat while feeling the tacky as a "Florida vacation" single diamond earring in your ear, If you are this person...with any luck the sun in its precise celestial positioning as you putter on by...will reflect its scorching rays into your earring, bouncing intensely in your rearview, and finally making contact with your eyes through the thin cheap lens of $5 gas station Oakley rip off glasses.. then burning your retinal cones into smoldering melting gobs of ocular material as you are blinded by the purest form of energy in our known universe, and as you scream no one can help or hear you because they don't know what is going on since the weed whacker sound of your ****ty tiny little muffler which makes the Civic sound like a 747 rages on underneath making everyone turn at disgust and comment to their husbands or wives how much of a dickweed you are by attaching that automotive abnormality to your stock economical daily driver engineered by Japanese Automotive specialists to fit the needs for entry level business workers in their early 30's, however your pathetic looking $11,000 car which you want to look like a friggin spaceship with redundant ground effects is now out of control since you are blinded, and as your car plunges off the side of a cliff while you scream in the purest form of terror while knowing you have lived a horrid excuse for a life, by doing the bare minimum in every facet of existence, while getting fired from one pathetic job to another, the majority of your time spent slacking smoking dope, getting kicked out of school, polishing your "game" on sweet innocent underage girls you eventually 'de flower' through exhaustive yet successful attempts to get the date rapist drugs you have stashed in the glove compartment, into your poor victims drinks while offering them to take the "Pepsi Challenge" while making your mother hate you, and your poor father who wishes he had a daughter instead of your pathetic ass, since a girl would be more of a man than you ever were, like the occasion when you were hit in the arm by a wild pitch in little league, then you cried like a fat kid who dropped his ice cream cone, I'm already envisioning you impacting the rocks below, in a spectacular fireball ignited from the residue hairspray from your girlfriend plastered in the fabric passenger seat, blinded by your earring, deafened by the loud "Bling Blingin", and I will smile and roll around on the ground in orgasmic delight while you are consumed by flames whose intense heat and fury will liquefy your bone marrow that I will use to make jelly beans out of and eat them happily at your funeral as midgets dressed like Alex 6005321 from "A Clockwork Orange" dance around your coffin to loud industrial style techno music and strobe lights, and I will sleep soundly at night knowing another successful conquest of Darwinism has been attained.