So Sunday I'm out in the driveway building a set of headers for an old Chebby that landed in my driveway. Basically I'm minding my own business when this real methhead lookin' dude an turn of the century 4 wheel chebby rolls up and points out to me that I'm a freak. I made a suggestion of my own and he motored off. Guess it was the piece of exhaust tubeing in my hand, or the rooster hair. Anyway I've been thinking about it and it occures to me that if you don't go down to the local we finance anybody used car lot and buy a suedo romper stomper to drive around in town you're a freak. Hmmmn, " I never really thought of myself as a freak, but I love to freak." Maybe it was a compliment.