LOL he’s so serious, I’m not talking shit, I’m conversing. Brah.
I built my car to be a quick daily driver (400hp at the crank)…I mainly just want to make a complete, efficiant all around build. Nothing crazy. I don’t have time to go to lebonan valley, but I would like to go to a autocross event or two.I just work a lot so I don’t ever have time to do anything.
You live in CP?
I think I’ve seen your car.
What sort of engineer you be?
I know what its like to work alot.
6 days a week.
5 days or less right here :lol
No I know what it’s like to work alot, 6 days a week, and holidays.
yeah I refuse to work holidays. Probly shouldn’t have grown up wanting to be a cop for a while then lol
Yeah me too
People get upset when you start acting elitist…you had a valid point, but maybe think of your delivery before posting it
Or know what or who you are talking to before you bring up said point
Yes I live in cp…and you have seen my car. I am a biomedical engineer.
Understandable, which is why in post #477, I said I was in the wrong.
Lol…I could careless who you are…what are you the suspension guru of shift-518??lol… You posted pics of your slammed car, with considerable negative camber and showed your terrible wear pattern on your tires. I commented and asked what struts you were running and asked if you had a camber kit. You got your panties in a twist and started throwing insults at me, like Im a idiot that lives in a trailor…hahahahaha…clearly you have the mentality of a 16 year old which great…good for you.
I actually think I met you at the CP mobil last summer
Probably…I live right around the corner…did u have a older 240 with a fmic?
Well, you don’t know what his car’s purpose is, and I’m assuming you don’t know the arrangement/design of his suspension, or how it’s geometry is designed to change under load, or not. E36 M3 Race Cars run almost, or over (under?) -4* camber, but they do it for a reason. Point is, there was no point to your original post :).
yeah old black junker
shits dumpy:rofl
Don’t forget he also keeps saying my car is slammed when it actually has a tiny bit of wheel gap on 18’s. its probly close to 3" lower atleast though cause stock sc400 have super 4x4 status
I may not be as clean and wholesome as the gents in the Hilton or the Savoy, and my clients may not be so rich or well-dressed – but I guarantee that I see things that they never see, well, hardly ever, anyway. I certainly bet that more sperm is washed down my drains than in the Hilton gents, because although rich men undoubtedly wank just as much as, if not more than, the worse off, most of them seem to choose to do it in private and so if they do it in the gents, on the whole they jerk themselves off unseen to all in the cubicles. I’ve only got four stands but I can boast that for nearly half the time I’m open I can watch at least three erections being stroked at a time – and at busy periods not only are there four, but several others are waiting their turn, some bulging inside trousers, others sticking out of unbuttoned flies, dripping precum.
Take today for example: within three minutes of Maisie unlocking the door I have three visitors. One is a genuine pisser and seems genuinely embarrassed when the other two place themselves either side of him, stare down at his stream of piss and start rubbing their pricks. By the time he has emptied his bladder he finds himself flanked by two throbbing erections and is unable to remain completely indifferent. As he shakes the final drops of urine from his circumcised prick his neighbours notice an appreciable change in the size of the innocent member as well as in the expression of the face of its owner.
The more vigorously they rub their own erections the more upright the newcomer’s stands. His right hand seems to be somewhat confused; to rub or not to rub? Oh, what a pity!! The willing spirit has got the better of the weak flesh and the now firm and damp erection is stuffed with some difficulty into the corduroy trousers and the frustrated man beats a hasty and somewhat guilty retreat with an obvious bulge in his trousers. The two regulars, old friends, have no intention of shedding their load yet. The day is still young and they intend to see a few more erections and perhaps wank a few of them before they leave.
Their lives, and the lives of many of the regular wankers has changed since Maisie has been in charge of the urinal. Her predecessor Sybil was a real puritan of a woman and had made lives very difficult for masturbators by her regular shouts of: “That’s enough, you dirty old men!” “Off you go, it’s time to clean up after you!” “This is a public urinal not a boys’ public school!” and the like, which were usually followed up by her appearance through the door of her little office, clutching a mop with which she threatened the four or more men present who were obliged to hastily push their erections into their trousers. Maisie, however, takes a special pleasure in watching the goings-on in the urinal, male masturbation being her particular fetish. She has had a two-way mirror fitted in the door supposedly to enable her to check that the urinal is being used solely for its designed purpose. In fact it enables her to see clearly what is going on and masturbate freely and unseen on her side of the mirror.
But I digress. Another two men have come down the steps and joined the regulars. One is an old man with a limp, the other a poorly dressed but physically fit man of around thirty-five. Both pretend to urinate, while the two regulars continue to stroke their semi-erections. The old man looks along the line at the other three pricks and tries to coax his large but flaccid prick to stand up. He is unsuccessful, but appears to be enjoying himself. The younger man’s prick stands up immediately and he starts to rub it vigorously. It is obvious why he has come. One of the regulars tries to take hold of the rock-hard erection but the young man resists his advances. He continues to rub, then his whole body starts to shake and a spurt of sperm dashes against my wall, followed by another. The masturbator shakes his prick, takes out a rather dirty handkerchief, wipes the final drips of cum off the end of his prick, which he tucks back into his trousers. He quickly zips up his flies and leaves. His place is taken by a well-dressed man in a beige raincoat. The other three relax their wanking, assuming the newcomer is a bona fide pisser. Of course they are wrong. He takes out his prick which is already in a semi-erect state and starts to wank, looking fixedly at the prick next to him. Herb, one of the regulars, puts his hand on the ‘respectable’ prick – the raincoated man returns the compliment.
“The wash-basin?” says Herb.
“Yes,” answers the raincoat.
The washbasin is situated just inside the door and supposedly out of view of the supervisor. In Sybil’s day it was, as Sybil did her spying through an invisible hole that only gave her a view of the urinals. Thus the washbasin was the perfect place for mutual masturbation and blow-jobs, the only witnesses being those entering the urinal. It is now still the recognized place, but now the forbidden act is performed, unknown to the perpetrators, in full view of Maisie. Now, Herb skillfully masturbates the raincoated man to orgasm while he tries to do the same for Herb. The sperm splashes into the wash-basin, but Herb’s prick remains in a semi-erect state. The satisfied visitor gives up, tucks away his still-dripping prick and beats a retreat.
:rofl
Thats one of my intended majors :number1