Breaker, breaker, Blacklid is backwoods.
Being a laid-back weekend around here, we all went out to downtown Cow Town to hit the market: my older younger brother's side of the fam, Aaron and me. We all kinda forgot that it was also the same weekend as the Fort Worth Stock Show, so we had to drive all the way around downtown and loop back to avoid the parade of horses and wagons and cattle.
I realize that it sounds like I live in Hicksville, but it gets worse. I went to the market, which is the weekly Bazaar flea market on Henderson, to find a new antenna ... for my CB radio. My old one was a modest getup that attached to the rear window glass and gave me a listening range of a few miles. Not the greatest invention, though: the screw kept working loose until finally one day the antenna just blew off. I've been running that radio without an antenna for a while and I miss having decent power. Now, I don't know which is more telling: that I went looking for a deal yesterday, or that I found one. I saved about 30 bucks, too.
I should have a range of ten miles or so with this new one and the SWR comes set at 1.2, which is three points better than my old one. I was dragging my feet on whether or not to get the same one so I wouldn't have to consider scraping my window tint and anyway, I was surprised that I was still picking up chatter within a mile just using the radio.
On Thursday I was late to watching Supernatural because there was an accident on I-35 North on my way home when the Denton Drive bridge decided to jump out in front of a big rig... again. Traffic was backed up for five miles.
How cold zit here?
'Bout 33.
That's some good weather. It's minus fourteen in Des Moines right now.
I'm from Montana. Live in Butte now. S'where I'm headed when I get outta this crap.
It takes a whoooooole mess of dumbasses to make a dogpile like this.
[Me:] Southbound, how's it lookin'?
[Response:] Those are some pretty colors. (translation: accident with units on scene)
I'mma pee my britches 'fore we get there.
When does this let up?
Depends on how fast the dog eats his pancakes.
Are they blueberry pancakes or you gonna put whipped topping on 'em?
Blueberries are for Yankees.
At least we know how to eat.
[Me:] All you guys with eighteen feet need to get over to the left 2 lanes if you're northbound. (The right lane runs out.)
[Response:] Well, lemme over. Make room.
[Me:] Will try. I'm in the hammer lane already.
(Someone starts singing a song about trucking and there's radio silence for a bit.)
If I stop behind this cop car, sling myself out the door with my ass hangin' out and jump that barb wire fence lookin' for a piss, would I still be considered an intelligent man?
[Me:] How high is the fence?
What's it look like now?
[Snuffy:] I can see that we need to get into the left lane.
Thank ya, Snuffy. We love you. Keep truckin'.
I can see the sex lights! (the flashing lights on police and fire units) But they're on southbound. Somebodies bumpin' into each other over there, too.
What mile marker this catastrophe at?
Four-six-zero. (I had just passed 459.)
Copy that.
They're inspecting the bridge now.
Come out in front o' me, StepDaddy. Lane ends.
[Snuffy:] A truck bumped uglies with this bridge.
What can you see, Snuffy?
[Snuffy:] This guy bumped his load. Looks like he was tryin'na do a thirteen-six with a fourteen-one. (referring to the height of the rig versus the bridge clearance; basically the driver underestimated by several inches)
God bless, Snuffy.
That takes a special kind of special, right thar.
What exit do I take if I wanna skip this mess?
Four-five-nine, driver. Take the service road.
Much appreciated.
[Me:] Four-six-zero is still open if you get stuck. You can get off and right back on.
Ten-four.
I hit the exit where the accident was since my exit for home was the very next one. What a mess. That bridge is very old and lots of accidents happen there. The truck was upright by the time I passed it, but the load was still leaning to one side. Only one lane was open. :P That's the murder of living right off the interstate sometimes.
As if you needed further proof of my questionable femininity, I also found a couple of books: one about rebuilding and modifying Rochester Quadrajet carbs and one about upgrading from a TH350 transmission, so my plans for Zilla shifted in a better direction, I believe. Sorry there hasn't been any word on that front lately -- I'm closing the knowledge gap as fast as I can and saving my pocket change for a full-blown restoration. When things get really down and dirty, I promise I'll keep you guys abreast of all the fun.
I realize that it sounds like I live in Hicksville, but it gets worse. I went to the market, which is the weekly Bazaar flea market on Henderson, to find a new antenna ... for my CB radio. My old one was a modest getup that attached to the rear window glass and gave me a listening range of a few miles. Not the greatest invention, though: the screw kept working loose until finally one day the antenna just blew off. I've been running that radio without an antenna for a while and I miss having decent power. Now, I don't know which is more telling: that I went looking for a deal yesterday, or that I found one. I saved about 30 bucks, too.
I should have a range of ten miles or so with this new one and the SWR comes set at 1.2, which is three points better than my old one. I was dragging my feet on whether or not to get the same one so I wouldn't have to consider scraping my window tint and anyway, I was surprised that I was still picking up chatter within a mile just using the radio.
On Thursday I was late to watching Supernatural because there was an accident on I-35 North on my way home when the Denton Drive bridge decided to jump out in front of a big rig... again. Traffic was backed up for five miles.
How cold zit here?
'Bout 33.
That's some good weather. It's minus fourteen in Des Moines right now.
I'm from Montana. Live in Butte now. S'where I'm headed when I get outta this crap.
It takes a whoooooole mess of dumbasses to make a dogpile like this.
[Me:] Southbound, how's it lookin'?
[Response:] Those are some pretty colors. (translation: accident with units on scene)
I'mma pee my britches 'fore we get there.
When does this let up?
Depends on how fast the dog eats his pancakes.
Are they blueberry pancakes or you gonna put whipped topping on 'em?
Blueberries are for Yankees.
At least we know how to eat.
[Me:] All you guys with eighteen feet need to get over to the left 2 lanes if you're northbound. (The right lane runs out.)
[Response:] Well, lemme over. Make room.
[Me:] Will try. I'm in the hammer lane already.
(Someone starts singing a song about trucking and there's radio silence for a bit.)
If I stop behind this cop car, sling myself out the door with my ass hangin' out and jump that barb wire fence lookin' for a piss, would I still be considered an intelligent man?
[Me:] How high is the fence?
What's it look like now?
[Snuffy:] I can see that we need to get into the left lane.
Thank ya, Snuffy. We love you. Keep truckin'.
I can see the sex lights! (the flashing lights on police and fire units) But they're on southbound. Somebodies bumpin' into each other over there, too.
What mile marker this catastrophe at?
Four-six-zero. (I had just passed 459.)
Copy that.
They're inspecting the bridge now.
Come out in front o' me, StepDaddy. Lane ends.
[Snuffy:] A truck bumped uglies with this bridge.
What can you see, Snuffy?
[Snuffy:] This guy bumped his load. Looks like he was tryin'na do a thirteen-six with a fourteen-one. (referring to the height of the rig versus the bridge clearance; basically the driver underestimated by several inches)
God bless, Snuffy.
That takes a special kind of special, right thar.
What exit do I take if I wanna skip this mess?
Four-five-nine, driver. Take the service road.
Much appreciated.
[Me:] Four-six-zero is still open if you get stuck. You can get off and right back on.
Ten-four.
I hit the exit where the accident was since my exit for home was the very next one. What a mess. That bridge is very old and lots of accidents happen there. The truck was upright by the time I passed it, but the load was still leaning to one side. Only one lane was open. :P That's the murder of living right off the interstate sometimes.
As if you needed further proof of my questionable femininity, I also found a couple of books: one about rebuilding and modifying Rochester Quadrajet carbs and one about upgrading from a TH350 transmission, so my plans for Zilla shifted in a better direction, I believe. Sorry there hasn't been any word on that front lately -- I'm closing the knowledge gap as fast as I can and saving my pocket change for a full-blown restoration. When things get really down and dirty, I promise I'll keep you guys abreast of all the fun.