I thought I told this story...
2:30am, 210 freeway, way more than seven years ago. Weather was light, sparse rain but overall visibility was good.
1991 Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4 with all the bells and whistles, coming on at Lone Hill, I look right and in the lane next to me is a couple of kids in their dads 3000GT VR4 (I stole mine all nice and legal like, some deadbeats buy the nicest cars.) are looking me over as we wait for the green arrow.
So up onto the freeway we go as the rain starts. 40, 50, 70, 90...
Neck and neck all the way to 145mph with the rain sheeting off the windshield and the useless wipers letting out a moan as they crossed the screen.
He blinked and backed off at 147, I didn't.
The car was as solid as a rock and probably would have kept accelerating but I passed some poor fool in something small and slow and nearly scared him into the center divider, snapped me back to my senses and off of the pedal.
Spent the rest of the night under 75, felt like I was going backwards.
Best freeway frolic was in a pair of 190 MBZ's coming up the 605 nose to tail with about eight inches between us at about 95mph. Middle of the night, clear sailing with no one around except some guy in the number two lane minding his own business doing the limit, probably drunk or at least half asleep out there at that time of the morning. As we came up on him in our lane, my partner went to the right, I went to the left and we passed him on either side at speed. Once we cleared the car I moved back into the number two lane in front while my buddy jumped back into the lane behind me.
So what home boy must have thought was one car came up at breakneck speed, split in two, passed him and reformed into one car and drove off into the night.
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Two bulls are standing on top of a mountain. The younger one says to the older one: "Hey pop, what's say we run down there and fuck one of them cows". "No son" the older one says,"Lets walk down and fuck 'em all".
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