Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Part 25- My Fantastic Supreme 2009 Indy 500 Photo Diary Blog Type Thang: Family Fun Day At IMS

Family Fun Day at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway always brings out some groovy rides because it is also Bring Your Sled To IMS Day.

Here’s an example, however, of somebody who didn’t get the memo.

The memo clearly states that the personal vehicle you bring to IMS on this special day is supposed to be cool.

The above-pictured car is not cool. It is worlds away from cool. I would go so far to say that it is neither “smart” nor a “car,” and that its presence on my sacred racetrack is a travesty…and I don’t care how many checkered flags are festooned upon it.

The only place it should be at my racetrack is in the infield, after the race, burning fiercely and merrily to the ground in a hellish Viking funeral pyre type ceremony.

Yes. That scenario would make me smile.

This is the rig of an owner who did get the memo.

Yes…it has a ubiquitous small-block Chevrolet engine, but this machine is noteworthy for a number of reasons.

If you look closely, you will notice that it is equipped with a Triple-Deuce carburetion system atop a compatible aluminum Edelbrock intake manifold.

All three 2-barrel Stromberg carburetors, manufactured in South Bend, are linked together with a complicated series of rods and pulleys that could make a Purdue engineer scratch his head!

Interestingly, please note that all three of these rare Stromberg carburetors are fed by translucent red gas lines, so that one may watch with horror as they consume massive quantities of fossil fuels!

I would also like to point out the translucent red ignition wires coming off the distributor cap, and the witches' hats on the ends of the muffler-less exhaust!

This, my friends, is a politically incorrect hotrod owned by a guy who pays attention to important details.

…And I like it!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to comment away with your bad-ass selves.

Cursing and foul language is fine...even encouraged here. In fact, I think cussing is fucking wonderful.

Just remember...this is MY house, and I will not be insulted or maliciously messed with here.

Good-natured ribbing is cool, but if you and I don't have some kind of previous relationship, you had best mind your fucking manners or I will relegate you to the intardnets dustbin for being a cunt.

To know me is to love me.

Or something.