Anybody got any stories we could laugh at

I was riding shot gun in my buddies 48 Ply. cp .back in 56 we just put in a floor shift tranny and didn't have time to put floor boards back in. A local cop pulls us over because the grille was missing. You should've seen his face when he looked inside and saw the open floor. He wrote us a ticket. Next day my buddy takes ticket to his uncle who was the cops boss in that township and gets the ticket torn up. We used to drive that cop nuts!

 

ive never seen it illegal for a missing grill or floor board in a vehicle..

 

You didn't grow up in Pennsylvania in the 50's The cops followed us till we left town at nite. They pulled us over to check if we had mufflers or straight pipes on. Even waited outside High School while principle called us over speaker system. Hank would you please go to your car the Police want to see you about drag racing out front this morning.

 

One night 2 buddies of mine are cruising around in an old Ford Courier while drinking and shooting road signs with a shotgun. Buddy doing the shooting accidentily pulled the trigger when hitting a pothole and shot through the floor hitting the right front tire.Blew a big hole through the floor and the tire! Crazy bastards....

 

Here:

http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=312581

R-

 

'66 Mustang I pulled out of a field... had it running in 1 hour of tinkering. It had the driver's side front jacked up with the tire off, and the other three tires on the ground. I wanted to screw with my brother and bumped the gas like I was going to brake stand it... I didn't put the return spring on the throttle. Gas goes to the floor, lights up the rear tires and the car falls off the floor jack.... the jack slides under the car and the handle swings around bashing my shin (leg was hanging out the door) in the door sill. You've never seen someone try to kill an engine so fast while not spilling his beer.

I still have the lump/scar, on my left leg as as reminder all these years later. My father saw it all happen... he's still dissappointed in me.

Same car, 1 hour after the above story... I'm doing a donut in my dad's pasture with a friend of mine riding shotgun. He's buckled into the car. Well... this was basically a parts car and someone had stolen the door strikers off of it. The dry rotted bungee cord breaks... door swings waaaaay open, my friend falls out of the car with the seat belt and seat. Yeah... we found out they were just "sitting" in the car... that was hilarious....

The expression of pure fear on his face was priceless.

 

gad!...I've had so many 'incidents' in my life that I can't think one 1 particular story to tell.
But I do know this...my very best (or worst) f*ck-ups were always of me showing off in front of a crowd!!! hahaha...nuthin' like an audience!

 

I had shaved door handles on my old truck. Sitting in traffic in downtown, my buddy is leaning out the passenger door hard and trying to pick up a couple girls walking down the sidewalk. I see an opportunity, hit the button on my keys, door opens, he loses balance, falls OUT of the truck and smacks his face right on the street. Im laughing so hard i sat through an entire green light

 

Me and my brother in law were squirrling around Ladd circles (SE Portland) in his 53 ford, It was one of those cars that when you let go of the wheel from a hard turn the steering started to go from lock to lock ansd the car would swerve back and forth for as long as you kept your hands off the wheel. Well we did that and the car started going back and forth violently (what fun) he decided to grab the wheel and when he reached for it his sleeve caught the Vice Grip door handle and out he went, on the way out he grabbed his lunch pail. So there we were swerving down the street with a guy holding a lunch pail taking 20 ft. steps holding on to a car door through the window yelling "Mike do something!" so I stomped the brake. My bro in law, the door and the lunch pail swung around and smashed into the front fender. Now i have to go wipe my eyes, I've been laughing my ass off typing this.

 

My first "real" job was being a pump jockey at a gas station when I was 16.

I was left alone there for a few hours one slow Saturday afternoon. An attractive young lady (probably 10 years older than me) pulled in with a '50s Ford convertable. She said she was looking to buy the car, but the motor was making a funny sound - or something like that - and asked if I would give it a quick check.

Well, I had no clue as to what to look for, but was greatly enjoying her company and attention, so of course I said yes. She pulled into the service bay and I confidently popped the hood. I piddled around under the hood, checked the belts, plug wires, etc., and found nothing obviously wrong.

Still, she was pretty sweet looking, and quite friendly, so in a lame attempt to impress her further with my exceptional mechanical knowledge, I removed the air cleaner and poked around some more. Seems like it may have been a flathead, but either way there was an old style oil fill tube with a breather cap - filled with something like very coarse steel wool - slipped down over its top.

The breather was oil-soaked, so I took it over to the parts washing tray, dipped it in and shook it around to clean it out. I slipped it back onto it's tube and told the little honey to hit the starter. The instant she did, there was a very loud noise, and quite a bit of smoke. The explosion blew the breather cap off and it banged loudly on the underside of the hood. At the same time, the dipstick shot out of the motor, careened off the inner fender, and flew across the room into a window pane - which, of course, it busted out.

We were both terrified, and needless to say, that was the end of my attempts to impress the young lady. I quickly put things back together and she sped away before the smoke had cleared - probably happy just to be alive.

I can't remember how I explained the broken window to the boss when he returned - but I found out the next day that another employee had filled the parts cleaning tray with gasoline when he ran out of solvent. The excess gas had of course, run down the oil fill tube into the crankcase and ignited when the gal hit the ignition switch.

Live and learn. (-:

 

When I was about 14 or 15 I let a 12 Gauge shotgun go off in the floorboard of Dads 50 GMC,shot hit right on the frame,most of it went into the radiator.Old six cly.got so hot it burnt all the grease off of it,but it was ok after we fixed the radiator.

 

when I was a little kid, I opened a shotgun shell and took out the shot...and the wad....and the powder... and cut off the paper shell... then set the metal cap on the anvil and hit it with a hammer....

I was just a kid and had no idea that the resulting explosion would be as loud as a shotgun going off!!

 

hahahahaha

thats good

 

So its Friday or Saturday on Halloween&#8230;1991 we're juniors in highschool, my good buddy Brian and I are heading to a party, hes driving his 1985 el camino, im passenger. We pull into the cul-de-sac where the party is and see around 5 or 6 of our friends hanging out front. We stop the car and see whats up&#8230;.how many kegs, whos there, whats been going on&#8230;.yadda yadda&#8230;.. So my buddy blockhead&#8230;.A.K.A <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com</st1ersonName>Scott is hanging on the drivers door with his elbows and forearms crossed and kind of inside the car and his chest on the door, and hes hammered and slurring and going on and on about something. So I say get off the door we&#8217;re gonna park this thing, blockhead didn&#8217;t hear it, so I say it again, get off the damn door we want to park&#8230;&#8230;and blockhead is still going on about something. So I say to Brian, aw just go he&#8217;s hammered, he&#8217;ll fall off. Well blockhead was a pretty strong dude and didn&#8217;t fall off right away like I thought he would, instead he held on and Brian didn&#8217;t stop, so around 10 feet later blockhead looses his grip and disappears, and we feel the driver side wheel hit a bump. I think to myself&#8230;..damn that&#8217;s weird a one wheel bump&#8230;. that felt like a cat&#8230;&#8230;.Brain and I look at each other realizing what it was and are pale white, I got out, run over to blockhead in the middle of the street as hes starting to sit up, hes like what the hell just happened, I remember saying shit man are you alright&#8230;&#8230;blockhead is like ya im fine&#8230;&#8230;why&#8230;&#8230;so I help him up and dusting him off, realizing just how damn lucky we got and I notice on his perfectly plain white shirt hes got a tire tread pattern from the el camino going from left to right at a slight angle across his chest, when we noticed that we all just laughed our asses off, and blockhead was just fine after another beer. Most of us including blockhead are still great friends and it gets brought up every Halloween.<O</O

 

So it was summer time 1989, I was 14. It was early Sunday the last day of a 7 day river trip to havasu with friends and family. Uncle Joe says “boys I’ll take the truck and boat home, I want you boys (Sean-16, me-14, Shane-12) to take Jennies Jaguar home (orange county cal.) and get ready for work on Monday it will be a big day”. So we load up and split, we’re stoked cause it’s the first time we didn’t have to break down camp, unload boats, load trucks and all that…..and plus were a couple long haired punks in a friggin nice XJ6 jaguar…

<O</OSo we get out on the highway and hit the 40 east bound, about 2 hours later we stop at a rest stop to use the facilities. We load up and head out again on the last trip this XJ6 jaguar would ever make. Heres how it went, radio as loud as it could go….check, a/c as cold as it could go……check, jaguar as fast as it would go….check…..Man we were rockin out to a Led Zeppelin 4 tape……with the speedo pegged at 140 passing cars like they were stopped having a grand old time……….then all of a sudden……..oh shit whats all that smoke…….damn its coming from the floors…..shit its coming from the a/c vents…..shit its coming through the gaps in the dash and defroster…….SHIT MAN WE’RE ON FIRE!!!!.......hurry get the electric windows down before they don’t work. Then we passed an exit sign saying “<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com<ST1Ludlow </ST1</st1:City>exit 1 mile”, I remember saying to sean “should we stop and run for it or get off on the off ramp”. We were going so friggin fast we didn’t have time to debate it. The next thing you knew we were on the off ramp and there was no way we were gonna stop at the stop sign at the end of the road. So we buckled down and held on, blew through the stop by the grace of god and sean hooked a left as the car died and we coasted to the only thing out there….a gas station of course.

<O</OI jump out, and I notice boy (shane) jumps out too, and I remember all he is saying is “my new water ski, I wont let it burn with the car, open the trunk”…lol, so I jump out and sean unlatches the hood, (they open back to front), I lift it up a little and big flames come out of it. I immediately drop it and run into the gas station like my hair caught fire, saying our car…fire…flames….car…..burning……the gas station attendant calmly looks me over, casually glances out of the window to see the car…..then leisurely walks over to about 6 big ass fire extinguishers, and slowly makes his way out to the car….while im doing the holy shit fire dance. He then looks underneath the car……there were pieces of hose dropping to the ground on fire….then spray’s everything down like it was the 5<SUP>th</SUP> car he put out that day…….damn. So we’re sitting there looking over the damage and we wonder where’s boy, hes nowhere in sight……..then the gas station attendant says I saw your friend walking towards the freeway with something…lol, it was his water ski and he had walked back to the freeway to try and get a ride home. Turns out he was in a bit of shock, so me and him sat there on a asphalt berm on the side of the 40 freeway with no shirts trying to hitchhike….lol, of course nobody stopped…to pickup a couple long hairs in the middle of the desert, on the side of the freeway, with no shirts and a water ski….lol, I finally talked him into going back to the car, where we stayed until good old uncle Joe got home (garden grove) to hear our message, then head back out to Ludlow to get us.

<O</OSo uncle joe picks us up, he asked “what the hell happened boys”, oh….well….you see we were just cruising along at 70 maybe 75 with the a/c on and then all this smoke poured into the cabin and we pulled off, turned out we were on fire……joe looks at us…..ok maybe we were going 85 but not for long…lol…..poor uncle Joe…..good thing Jennie was just a girl friend at the time………cuz he said something about needed another one after that trip…lol. That’s when I got my first lesson in lucas wiring….lol, turns out a couple wires rubbed together and caught the anti-flamable material under the hood on fire…..we didn’t tell uncle Joe the truth about us trying to set a new land speed record from Havasu to Anaheim until about maybe 5 years ago…….lol<O</O

 

2 and 1/3 ton cadillac brougham's, Even on ice, should never drift like in the movies, even if by accident.

 

I once towed a '57 Dodge wagon on a steel car trailer with a 1/2 ton Suburban. Only pushed me through one traffic light. Made it up the last hill at a crawl. Cleaned out the car later to find like 1500 lbs of starters, generators, carbs, fuel pumps, a couple clutches, and other crap in it. 7500 lbs is a lot of weight to pull behind a 1/2 ton truck.

On the bright side, I sold one of the carbs for about 3/4 of what I paid for the car.

 

I'm guessing 1967 maybe '68 my buddy has a '55 chevy and has just replaced the tranny. His brother welded up a "temporary" drive shaft and told him to go easy until he gets the finished one. My buddy gets pissed at his girlfriend and away we go! I'm holding the floor shifter in gear because the unbalanced driveshaft is vibrating and it keeps wanting to jump out of gear. Finally there's a bang and my hand gets slammed towards the dash and we're lucky to keep the car between the ditches. We manage to get stopped and discover that the driveshaft has broken and the front half is gone while the rear portion is through the floorboards and wedged under the back seat. This happened at full throttle coming off a hill and I'm guessing running speed at around 100 mph. Are we lucky to be here today? Probably, but it was fun at the time!

 

1977, I'm sixteen, driving the folks 69 Biscayne mordoor to high school. This car had about 140k miles on it. Every one of them in Northern Wisconsin and the UP. Never got washed. Drove all over on unpaved roads. You can imagine the condition it was in. The floors were gone. But the biggest problem was the front doors. On BOTH doors, the inner handles were incapable of opening the doors, as the linkage was rusted completely away. On the pass. door, you could roll down the window, reach out and press the button. But on the driver's door, the button was completely rusted away. The only way out was to roll down the window, take the screwdriver carried on the dash and poke into the hole where the button was supposed to be until you hit the plate and then the latch would release. With luck, I could hit it on the first try.

But it was a running driving car and we bombed around in it. One October day, during the lunch break, seven of us were bombing around the school. The pavement was wet and the leaves were strewn all over the street. No traction, but great for showing off. I stopped about twenty feet behind the stop sign, prepared to turn left with GUSTO. I nailed it and the good ol' 250 screamed as the one leg diff. broke the right rear loose. We came around that corner completely sideways and I drifted (didn't know the word the, other than what snow did) for a solid 1000 feet, right on past the main entrance to the school. Half the student body was hanging out there and we went past in all our glory. Until I noticed the bubble gum machine in the mirror. I immediately pulled over, hoping he had something important ahead of me.

But no, it was me he wanted. There we were, only a few yards from half the school. You can imagine how we felt. The four guys in the back bailed. The two guys with me were screaming. I instructed them and they bailed a few moments later. There I was. I rolled down the window and offered up my license. Unfortunately, he wanted more. He uttered those words I was dreading to hear..."please step out of the vehicle". So I grabbed the rusty screwdriver and poked away at the hole where the button went. I tried and tried but couldn't hit the sweet spot to make the latch release. Much to the amusement of the students. The more they roared, the harder I tried, the redder I got. Finally, the latch released and I stepped out.

It all ended with me being grounded, the teachers blackballing me and my buddies refusing to ever ride with me again.

I just was reminded about this at my 30 year class reunion this past summer. They roared.

 

I've got a few.

Okay late 1960's in Tulsa Oklahoma. Late night drag racing usually took place at either the industrial park at 41st and Yale or out at Mohawk park. Both places had quarter mile markers. This one night it was several early to mid 60's Corvettes and the usual 55 through 57 Chevys with updated motors. About three rounds into 'eliminations" we were at the finish line when we saw the headlights of two cars at the other end of the track at the starting line get brighter, indicating the race had begun. (Light travels faster than sound). About the time we hear the engines and the shifting, we see the Red lights from the highway Patrol car start flashing right behind the two drag racers. I'm a spectator so I'm thinking I need to make a dash for the woods where I can hide out until the heat has dissipated.

Okay, I'm bookin' it back into the dark at about full gallop when I happen to encounter a three strand barbed wire fence that I did not know was there. lucky for me I was about center between the fence posts so I merely went airborn, did a 3/4 gainer and landed flat on my back in the pasture. I only had some little corner rips in my jeans that matched up perfectly with some little corner rips in my thighs to show for it. I don't remember who won the race but it was pretty exciting there for a few minutes.

L_N_A

 

hahahaha...that's the way to tell a story!!!! awesome...nuthin like a BIG audience!!!!!!! wonderful stuff!

 

I can laugh at this now! Some of the local guys love this story, more so than I do!

I am a really picky guy, referred to as anal retentive by GMC Bubba here on the HAMB. I have just finished my sedan a few weeks earlier and it is loaded to drive to the street rod nats that day after work. Everything is going well. That morning I am making my lunch for work and my wife asks, What is leaking on the car? I say nothing, she says, there is a large puddle of oil or something under it. (open engine bay highboy) I go out and sure enough, a small puddle of oil and a stream down the block and pan. I am on my hands and knees looking, rubbing my fingers in it, smelling it, etc.... At this point I am very upset and knew I was not going to work with my car leaking oil before a trip. My wife starts in about why is it leaking, I thought you said it was ready to go, on and on..... I am still on my knees and gettting irritated at her I start getting mad, she bends down and says, let me look.....She sticks her finger in it, Licks it, and says huh, it taste like chocolate!!! As she is walking in the door she says "What a shame, you built a whole car by yourself, but dont know the difference between chocolate and oil!!!!

I have not forgotten, and I have not gotten even yet either! Her time will come.

 

I am at the bottom of this long hill,perfect place to burn some rubber, so I stand on my 58 Impala 348 w/ trips and loud pipes. You shouda heard the noise and seen the tire smoke. Opps at the top of hill sits a cop, so I pull over. He walks over to me and asked why did you stop ! I said you got me whats the use of running. He shakes his head and said this never happened to him before everybody tries to get away, and just because you made my day I'm going to let you go, get outta here.

 

1)
Nothing like installing a shifter and having it come completely off a few weeks later because I didn't use loctite and the vibrations loosened the bolts... Was like a bad movie where Jim Carrey or someone holds the shifter up in air with a WTF look.

2) Backfires thru carb -> filter catches on fire in traffic = I look pretty goofy jumping out and throwing the filter away from my 69 Z/28.

3) Shifting into reverse by accident while going 30mph.

 

Okay: Tulsa OK again late 1950's and one of the Rich Kids at Tulsa Edison is driving his custom 1956 Chevy with the Frenched Packard tail lights and custom paint out of the parking lot and down 41st street as he did every day so he could show off his car and make some noise. I would imagine the car was sporting dual quads but for sure it was the LOUDEST car in the county. It had either Cherry Bombs or straight "Sled Runners" but he would make the most of leaving early while the rest of us poor stiffs were in class watching out the window listening to the roar of the exhaust fade of into the distance.

Well this daily routine must have caused someone to complain and on this day there was a cop waiting for him to put on his show. As soon as the cop "lit em' up", the guy killed the engine and pulled over to await his fate. They stopped right in front of the school and everyone was watching as the cop got out of the car and went up to the driver and must have said for him to start the car so he could listen to it. The cop makes the mistake of stepping back to the rear and kneels down to look under the car to check for a modified exhaust and right his ticket when the driver hits the key and floors the throttle for about 30 seconds. The startled cop tries to jump up, jump back and away all the while trying to grab his ears. It was hilarious.

Man, I don't know what that ticket cost, but I'll bet if there is still a Bill Ramsey at Ramsey Wench in Tulsa, he can remember how much it was and how much fun it was.

 

Back in high school in the 80s the rural kids had to drive to a spot to get picked up by the bus. It was winter time so this one kid sat in his truck with the motor running until the bus arrived when the bus showed up he jumped out and got on the bus but he forgot to turn the motor off. A couple of my buddys and I opened the hood and pulled the coil wire and disconected the battery.

 

Around 1984 my buddy Dan and i took his grandpas late 70's white catalina out for a spin. We headed out of town and started laying patches a half mile long. no posi so only one tire would spin. we would turn around and line up the tires and do another burn down to make it look like someone done it with a posi. This thing would burn rubber all day. When we get back his grandpa is totally pissed off. it went like this: grandpa; were you guys doing burnouts in the county? uh no grandpa. Then what the F%&#k is all this rubber on the quarter panel? uh it must of already been there. I just spent3 F$%&#n hours cleaning and waxing this thing....needless to say it took us a couple hours to get all the rubber off and a fresh coat of wax back on.

 

A few old high school stories. Throwing dead animals in the school heating ducts stunk up the whole school for two weeks. Backed up to the front doors at the school and done a few burn outs, luckly the cameras were not working. Pulling out some of the faculties valve stems and leaving them with a bicycle pumps.

 

Now that is the funniest thing I've heard all week.......and i'm still laughing.

 

Early 70's and I had a 57 Ford 4-door. I was gassing up and astounding the gas jockey with my vast mechanical knowledge. Finished gassing up and got in the car to leave. Reached for the steering wheel, and realized I was in the back seat. I didn't want to get out while the gas jockey was there so I pretended that someone else was driving. Would have worked too if my wife wasn't laughing so hard in the front seat. Pat.