Another word about street racing.
Well, on my way home one day I was traveling the normal route, like I do everyday. Usually some ricer will see the SS and get on it, try to pass me you know, blaring some kind of garbage. I usually don't find myself confrontational with American cars, because they're harder to beat with a NA v6 no mods you know, I'll save that for my other beast. So, I looked in my rear-view mirror and thought to myself "hell, another one of those ricers" as a Honda Civic approached in speeds excess of 95 mph behind me. "Yeah, I'll show him and his civic", I thought, knuckles white firm on the steering wheel. "I hate those punks, I really do". So I sped up with ease, as he was trying to pass I pushed up to about 110 and cut in front of him, ahhaha you could see him shaking his fist at me, so angry. All I could think of was "ricer". Simple, I know, but that's how I roll. So eventually I boxed him in between a truck and me, started going about the same speed as the truck, around 55 you know. You should have seen the look on his face, so so angry, especially after a few miles. I knew he wished he was driving my "phat pimpinz" ride, anyway, as he would most likely put it. So, Eventually he got up beside me after I had my fun, going about 95. After I let him get up beside me, he gives me the bird as I look over, his wife in labor in the backseat screaming, I won't go into detail.
I thought, "that baby is going to be a import baby anyway", at first. But now, things are different.
I'm never street racing again. Keep it on the track guys, keep it on the track.
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