you know you are addicted to racing when.....

Author Topic: you know you are addicted to racing when.....  (Read 905 times)

Offline budrinker

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you know you are addicted to racing when.....
« on: April 09, 2009 - 05:40:40 PM »
when:


You have two dogs at home named "Snake" and "Mongoose.
 
You want to have kids just so you can run a Jr. Dragster.

You know more about a driver’s career than his wife does.

Your weed wacker was blueprinted by Keith Black.

You put a 60-foot launch pad in your backyard instead of a pool.

After your garage door opens, you "stage" and wait on the tree before pulling out.

After one pass around the yard on your lawn mower, you read the plug and “fatten ‘er up".

During the winter, you roll the windows down just to smell the tire smoke from skidding tires.

You can't remember your spouse's birthday, but you know the e.t. and speed records in every professional class.
 
You think the purpose of wings is to prevent flight.

You catch yourself saying, "I wish stoplights would flash yellow before they turn green." That way, you could get a better reaction time.

You know Hookers are headers.
 
You memorize the Summit and Jeg's catalogs, so you can build your dream car in your mind when you're bored.

"Going to the lanes" means getting ready to race, and not going to roll some stupid heavy ball down a wood floor to knock down pins.

Your home page is set at NHRA.com or Simply-Wicked.com.

When introducing your family, you refer to them as your “crew members."

You see burnout marks in the pavement, and try to determine how serious a car it was by the length and width of the stripes. Then you say, ”I could’ve done better.”

You refer to a cold day as "fast air."
 
While you’re squirting dish soap in the sink, you're thinking about priming the injector.

When you joined AARP. you got mad because they didn't send you a pin, a patch, a rule book, or 48 issues of anything.

You talk in your sleep, and your wife wakes you up in the middle of the night and wants to know who Shirley, Connie, and Yolanda are.
 
You describe someone who's upset as being "on the chip" or "on the tire."

You've even told a co-worker that your nutty boss finally "tossed the belt."
 
You refer to an employee who didn't show to work as "having a cylinder out."

You use the emergency brake handle as the "hand brake" while inching up at a stoplight, pretending your staging.
 
You send a monthly letter to the city council asking it to move the traffic
lights to street level, because looking up at them is messing up your reaction time.

Your wife and kids report you missing 23 times a year.

You are more enthusiastic about getting your National DRAGSTER in the mail than a check.

You don't know that Richard Nixon was from Yorba Linda, California, but you do know that John Force is.

You'll spend $300 for a single slick, but you won't spend more than $150 for four new tires on your daily driver.
 
You run your daily driver’s tires at 6 psi.

You have a shift light in your minivan.

You call the freeway off-ramp the "shutdown area."

You refer to Sacramento Raceway Park and Samoa Drag Strip as "The happiest place on earth"

While you're shopping for underwear, you find yourself looking for an SFI tag.

You know that all the things they claimed to do to that car in the show Grease can't  really be done at the same time.

You have a CD mix of car songs, including "409," "Little Deuce Coupe," and "Shut Down."  (FYI: They’re all on The Beach Boys’ 1963 LP Little Deuce Coupe.)

You honk and give a thumbs-up to any other car on the road sporting an NHRA Member sticker.

You drive 350 miles to your sister’s, just because there is a drag strip 20 miles from her house.

You never wanted to play with your friend’s sister until you found out she had a dragster. Now you will drive 350 miles just to play.

You take your helmet along when you go to buy new eyeglasses or check out cars.

When something falls off of your car, you wonder how much weight you just saved.

You bought a race car before buying a house.

You're looking for a tow vehicle, and still haven't bought furniture.

The requirements you give your real estate agent are (in order of
importance):
1) 8-car, climate-controlled garage with an attached shop.
2) Outside parking for 6 cars, a motor home, a crew-cab dually, a 28' enclosed
trailer and a 34' 5th wheel trailer.
3) 3-phase 220V outlets in the garage for your welder.
4) A grease pit.
5) Deaf neighbors.
6) Some sort of house with a working toilet and shower on the property--or hookups for the motor home.

You have enough spare parts to build another car.

More than one racer supply store recognizes your voice, and greets you by name when you call.

You save broken car parts as "momentous."

You've found your lawnmower runs pretty good on 108 octane gas, but doesn't particularly care for alcohol.

The local police department, sheriff’s office and state highway patrol have pictures of your car taped to their dashboards.

Instead of pictures in your wallet, you have time slips.

After you tell your wife where you'd like to go on vacation, she answers: "Why...is there a race there?"

You are on a first-name basis with owners of every local speed shop.

You are the type of person who goes crazy when you have to sit in a traffic jam for more than five minutes, yet you can spend five hours in the staging lanes. Every stoplight becomes a practice tree, to test your ability to tree the guy in the other lane's eyes out.

You wash your car like it was your first-born child, you tend to its needs like it was your own body, you protect it like it's your family--then you drive it like you stole it.

When someone asks your weight, you tell them the weight of your car with and without a driver.
 
You use racing fuel as an after shave.

You treat a traffic light like a Christmas Tree.

During the off-season, you sit in your race car making engine sounds and pretending to shift gears.

You take an old tire off of one of the many cars in your yard. Then you proceed to take a torch to it, then inhale the tire smoke.

You take your wife or girl friend out to a fine restaurant, and when she gets up to go the ladies’ room, you commence to draw on the tablecloth the new engine design. She comes back and catches you drawing this engine that she had no idea existed. You then say that it's for a friend.
 
You go to the Drag Strip on your first date. True love would be if she
suggested it. That's when you find an old beer tap ring and propose.

Your wife says she expecting, and you think that it means she expects you to win the next round.

You can find your way to any drag strip, but get lost going to your in-laws.
 
You think about racing every 4.77 seconds.

You know that POWERade is a drink ,and not a new kitchen appliance.

You know that "Breakout" refers to a driver running quicker than their dial-in time, not a prison escape.

You refer to a "Diaper" as an absorbent blanket used to contain oil and
parts in case of a blown engine. Not something you put on a baby, even thoughthey both contain similar stuff.

E. T. to you means Elapsed Time, not Extra Terrestrial.

You know that Weight Transfer refers to the front end lifting, causing weight to be transferred to the rear wheels, and that it’s not a new wave diet.






Offline Super Blue 72

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Re: you know you are addicted to racing when.....
« Reply #1 on: April 09, 2009 - 06:14:36 PM »
 :roflsmiley:  :thumbsup:
1972 Dodge Challenger Rallye 340, AT, Code TB3=Super Blue, SBD=8/17/1971.  Yes, a Rallye without the fender louvers from the factory because of the body side molding option.

Pic #2 and 3 of my ARII 1/24 scale model car 

Phil in New England-Massachusetts  Always thank God for what you have!

http://www.cardomain.com/ride/456046/1972-dodge-challenger