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View Full Version : The Ballad of Hondatard and the Muscle Car



SVT10th
07-01-2014, 10:07 AM
This is a true story. I swear I’m not making any of this up. ....and you may very well see the car and laugh your ass off as well.

So I’m a car enthusiast, and part time auto mechanic who helps the neighbors out with their cars. Hey, I’ve got a little knowledge, been doing this for a few years. I have a rather fast and rare early 70s hobby car that i take out on weekends -- an Oldsmobile 442.

So anyway. My neighbors kid turns 17, and the mother gives him her Honda Civic.
Say it out loud now with me. Honda Civic. Plastic and aluminum, 75 horsepower, basic commuter car, Honda Civic.
"Perfect for a new driver, economical, easy to maintain and dependable a good basic car for junior," I thought to myself.

Over the first week he bought spinning hubcaps and a set of dragon seat covers for it. That should have been it. He should have left it alone.

The week after that, I walked out to my mailbox and I almost called the cops. I thought was seeing a UFO. As it slowly approached.....Then I could see it was a HONDA CIVIC.....with four different blinking colors of neon underneath it. Holy crap. I almost had a seizure looking at the thing. As it passed by, I could see even the shifter knob was blinking.

.....Then about 48 hours later, my lady and I are in bed, about ready to engage in some… well you know… when I hear BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-owwww. BZZZZ-owww. Over and over in the neighbor’s garage.
"Well this is an odd time of night for Mr. Richardson to be messing with his chainsaw." I thought out loud. After forty five minutes of this irritating buzzing, I thought I’d go over and ask the neighbor to play with his chainsaw in the morning.
What do I find, but the junior Richardson boy, proudly revving his engine up and down. 4 more wannabe gangsta kids were standing around "tuning" his new exhaust.....which consisted of a rather small header and 4 coffee cans spray painted silver and the words "TYPE-R" stenciled on it.

Holy hell. I told him to please quit screwing with the car so I could get some sleep.

Sadly, that is not all – not by a long shot.

The following week, he asked me if he can borrow a screwdriver and a hammer. He is installing his new "type r" rear spoiler. He was rather proud of it. He paid almost 600 dollars for it. I asked him where he was going to put it, since a Honda Civic does not have a trunk. "The roof, Dawg" is what he told me.
This spoiler looks like an aluminum picnic table that you would see in a public park, except for lots of rivets in it and the words "Type R" all over it.

I almost stopped him, but I wanted to see how retarded it would look. I gleefully helped him install it. Yup, totally retarded. Classic.
He went on to explain to me that he needed it for all of the downforce he needed to maintain traction “at speed”.
4 cylinders. 75 horsepower. Downforce.
yeah...

It gets better.

2 weeks later, he is asking to borrow my cordless drill.
He just bought a body kit, yo, and needs to be “down fo' shizzle wit da tool, dawg, to install it, no wut hes sane, dawg?”

Body kit. Pay attention. It gets good here.

So he drills all of the holes, double sided tape and screws this monstrosity to his car, and it REALLY is beginning to look like a space ship. or a an alien life form. Or a circus car. Well, not a circus car. Not yet. That’s coming.

Here’s the problem. The body kit is off-white. The car is dark green. It looks like a burrito vomited.....and the car is a full 4 inches wider, and 2 inches lower than it was before.

He cant get the doors to open or close properly, because the "body kit, yo" is catching the door jamb. So, always the helpful one, I give him my grinder. That was the coolest, watching this kid grind on his new 1200 dollar body kit. Word. It was the flyest, dawg.

Circus act part 1.

Now, he decides he wants to "Lower the ride, dog."
I wouldnt let him use my tools, as I was afraid Numbnuts would blow himself up with what he wanted to do next. He would cut the coils. Dangerous. Unsafe. Stupid.

He succeeded in cutting the coils, but now his new body kit was dragging on the ground. Plus, to top it all off, the car was bouncing up and down like a carnival ride, effectively ending his neon lighted glory. His type r exhaust was dragging on the ground as well.

You should see how retarded this thing looks. A huge picnic table on the roof, 2 tone body kit. Blinking, broken neon, stickers all over it, buzzing like a chainsaw on crack, bouncing up and down like a clown car.

Wait, that’s not all. Now Hondatard wants a "syssem, yo." Oh yeah. He pieced together about 6 different trashed car stereos, one home stereo, and an auto parts store budget bin bass speaker, and somehow wired the neon lights (what was left of them) to blink with the beat of the music.
....Except you can’t hear the music. You can only hear the bass. ...And it rattles his body kit and license plate frame. His spoiler vibrates so much, the ends start flapping after a few minutes…. It adds more downforce, yo.

Now it’s REALLY looking AND SOUNDING like a clown car.

Okay. Now for Hondtards carbon fiber paint job. He puts a hood scoop from an early 80s Mustang on it, and its EMORMOUS. It kind of balances out the retard-ness of the rear spoiler/picnic table.
Then out comes the spray cans. All 18 of them. First, he pulled off his spinning hubcaps, and painted the wheels BLACK. Flat black.
Then he painted the yo dawg body kit bright, neon yellow.
The rest of the car was painted bright red, with a purple fist turning into a dragon or some shit airbrushed on the doors.

Clown car complete? Not yet.

As I stated previously, I have experience with building cars. He knows that I can make a car go fast. He comes over with a copy of "honda tuner guy" magazine, filled with equally retarded looking cars.
He asks me: "Yo dawg, I wanna make dis here b18 go fast and shit. I was thinkin’ of an Acura V-Tec swap or some NOSS"
So I asked him, what exactly do you intend to do with this car? Will you be entering it in the most retarded car contest, or what?
He says: "Naaw, cracka. That shit is funny and shit, but I is for reals. I need to be running in the 12s and making 350 horsepower"
So I asked him: Why don’t you save your money and buy a car that already makes 350 horsepower, like a Camaro or a Mustang or something, instead of trying to make a car with 75 horsepower, that was never intended to go that fast go any faster?

He looks at me like I’m the one from another planet. "Dont be a fool, yo. Dat ode skoo shit can’t hang" he tells me.
Now I’m pissed. Insulted even.
I said, “Look here, Junior, I'll pull my Cutlass out of the garage and make your shit look like it was going backwards. No noss, no turbo, no stickers and no body kit is gonna help you beat the "ODE SKOO" cars. DAWG. And the same goes for any of your other retard car driving friends.
Ill have you and your homies wetting your pants with fear before we ever hit second gear. You have 6 grand worth of shit bolted onto a 1000 dollar car that was perfectly good when you got it, and now it looks, sounds and drives like ass. Get the fuck out of my garage. “

He looked like he was gonna cry.

He left with a solid "F*** you dawg, I’ll beat your old man car with a 150 shot" and he left, trying to pull up his drawers and give me the finger at the same time.

Showdown.

Now I am a responsible adult, and I do not condone street racing. However, when faced with a direct insult, challenge, any man tends to be defensive enough to take a few risks.

It’s a beautiful bright sunny day. First day I’ve had my car out of the garage all winter. I check the fluids. I start the engine. I anticipate a crisp, lively jaunt at mind-bending speeds up the interstate.
I rev my engine, I sip my coffee.

Hondtard heard me revving my engine, and him and 2 of his friends do the same in the driveway. One is a new-ish Acura in the pre-clown car stages of molestation, and the other one is junior's moms civic. It sounds like a lawn mower race at the Richardson’s house. I crank my engine up to 3000 RPM and drown them out.

I climb in my car, check the gauges, and idle out into the road.

I look in my rearview, and I’m being followed by two brightly colored clown cars with backward hat retards pointing in my direction.

......continued.....

SVT10th
07-01-2014, 10:07 AM
I ignore them. Not worth my trouble. I’m an adult.

Acuratard and Hondtard pass me when I hit the 680 on the left and the right.
Bzzzzzzzz.
Gone. Good. I am 5 miles down the Interstate when they blast out of the on ramp and attempt to box me in. Acuratard is revving his engine and pointing forward, Hondtard is slowing me down in front of me.

Fuck it. I’ve had enough.

I stuffed it down into third gear, opened all 455 cubic inches wide open, almost rear-ended Hondatard and swerved directly at Acuratard.
I broke the rear tires loose at 70 miles an hour, and Acuratard was busy downshifting trying to find enough torque to catch up to catch me.

I dusted these little punks so bad they simply disappeared. I got off on the next exit and waited for them on the on ramp. Some of their own game… right back atcha, Dawg.

I let them see me. Then I smoked the tires brutally and violently out of the ramp so that they would know I was pissed and coming for them.

I knew the Honda was slow, so I ignored him and brought it down right on the Acura’s bumper. I got within an inch of this terrified teenagers ass and popped on the high beams and gunned the motor. I mashed the gas in third and was threatening to bump him. 90, 100, 110....
He couldn’t get away from me. He waved for me to pass. Hondtard was somewhereWAAAAY in the back, not even in sight.
The acura fag was scared and beaten and he knew it. I pulled alongside.

I motioned for him to roll down his window. I screamed and pointed. He backed way off.

I stuck my finger in the air and screamed f-you at Acuratard, and dumped it, taking off until they couldn’t see my taillights anymore.

Later that evening, as I told my wife this story ("you’re a juvenile ass, you could have killed those kids and you are going to piss off the neighbors") I heard two chainsaws idle up very slowly to my house. Holy shit. It’s a drive by. These punks want to kill me. A knock on the door. I answer it, ready to beat some fake gangsta ass if I have to.

They want to see my car now. "Do you have noss?, is it a hemi?"
Punks. Get lost.

Clown car is still on the road, but now Homie wants to learn all about the "ode skoo"

If you see this car, put a sticker on it. He seems to like them, and thinks they make the car cooler. Then dust his ass once for good measure.

Dedicated to Dale "pimpdaddyhustla" Richardson -- class of 2013 -- and his clown car. Let me take you for a ride once you feel you are man enough. I see you stepped up to the plate and lost big time. I’m even willing to help you install the “noss” and the v-tecs and let you try again.

ToplessPony94
07-01-2014, 11:15 AM
Great story, Jim! Thanks for posting. Remind me to tell you a couple of stories sometime. No - I will take the 5th and I will not post them here.

whtmare
07-01-2014, 05:49 PM
Don't know who's worse the writer or the kid. I'm mean really ? Who writes all that out and secondly I'm not a fan of the word ret@rd being thrown around....

ToplessPony94
07-01-2014, 06:19 PM
I'm not a fan of the word ret@rd being thrown around....

Yeah, there is that, unfortunately. :o But I think most of us have been pushed to the limit of our patience at one time or another by some fool with few brains and even less class. I know I have. As for writing it all out, well.... :rolleyes:

But it is a fun read.

LILBLKSNAKE
07-01-2014, 08:13 PM
When they kill an innocent family with their antics, the judge doesn't care what they were driving

SVT10th
07-02-2014, 09:24 AM
yeah, it's not exactly PC, but don't take it too seriously.
Who knows if it's even true, and not just some whimsical piece of creative writing? This has been hanging out on the web for at least 10 years.
The point is, which of us hasn't been been completely exasperated by riceboys? I have (and I'm sure you all have too) been pestered by pimply-faced-nitwits driving Mom's mini-van trying to "race" my Cobra. I remember one of the funniest things I've ever seen was sitting watching a movie theater parking lot just as The Fast and the Furious movie (1st one) let out. It was a whole bunch of these riceboy types all trying to race their Mom's Camrys.

Take a breath, guys.... ;)