Ok,
So I was planning to get drunk last night (which I did) and was arranging all the plans and picking 2 of my buddies up in the 325.
It was wet out, raining and my bald Proxie 4's don't agree with that. I'm at a light, and start going and the tires spin, I let off, they grab and my shifter starts shaking like a fucking vibrating dildo. I'm like "FUCK my tranny mount went" I'm about 20km from home and decide to drive it. About 2km from my house I throw it into mexican overdrive on a hill because the shifter is going fucking balls (it's rubbing on the drive shaft.) When I slow down a bit more I goto put it in gear and there is nothing, not one fucking gear, I shit bricks because i'm so close to my house so pull it into a gas station and decide to check whats up.
I lay down on the wet fucking ground and feel under the car and my fucking selector rod came out of the bottom of this shifter. I can't reach so I grab my widowmaker jack from the trunk, jack it up, and pull it into a gear (which happens to be 3rd) limp the shitbox home and toss it in the drive way and borrow my moms cars. Turns out my shifter bushings are completely gone, which is good because I have the whole kit on the floor beside me.
Drive to the LCBO to get a 40oz of captain morgans spiced rum and a 2l bottle of coke. Get a call, the polish sluts that are coming need a ride. So we go pick them up, they get to my house, drink to much, one of them pukes and passes out in my 318 in the garage. Then pukes in my fucking mint interior, which now smells like dick and vomit. Another one was sitting in the passenger seat tending to the fat dyke that puked, dropped her cigarette and burnt a hole in my black leather sport seat.
It's pissing rain out, my 318 is covered in puke, I can't fix the 325 because I don't want to get soaked, and i'll puke if I go in my 318.
Moral, fucking e30 shifters, fuck polish sluts.
End.
So I was planning to get drunk last night (which I did) and was arranging all the plans and picking 2 of my buddies up in the 325.
It was wet out, raining and my bald Proxie 4's don't agree with that. I'm at a light, and start going and the tires spin, I let off, they grab and my shifter starts shaking like a fucking vibrating dildo. I'm like "FUCK my tranny mount went" I'm about 20km from home and decide to drive it. About 2km from my house I throw it into mexican overdrive on a hill because the shifter is going fucking balls (it's rubbing on the drive shaft.) When I slow down a bit more I goto put it in gear and there is nothing, not one fucking gear, I shit bricks because i'm so close to my house so pull it into a gas station and decide to check whats up.
I lay down on the wet fucking ground and feel under the car and my fucking selector rod came out of the bottom of this shifter. I can't reach so I grab my widowmaker jack from the trunk, jack it up, and pull it into a gear (which happens to be 3rd) limp the shitbox home and toss it in the drive way and borrow my moms cars. Turns out my shifter bushings are completely gone, which is good because I have the whole kit on the floor beside me.
Drive to the LCBO to get a 40oz of captain morgans spiced rum and a 2l bottle of coke. Get a call, the polish sluts that are coming need a ride. So we go pick them up, they get to my house, drink to much, one of them pukes and passes out in my 318 in the garage. Then pukes in my fucking mint interior, which now smells like dick and vomit. Another one was sitting in the passenger seat tending to the fat dyke that puked, dropped her cigarette and burnt a hole in my black leather sport seat.
It's pissing rain out, my 318 is covered in puke, I can't fix the 325 because I don't want to get soaked, and i'll puke if I go in my 318.
Moral, fucking e30 shifters, fuck polish sluts.
End.
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