But that's ok. My former best friend who I parted with on REALLY bad terms stopped by the house tonight unannounced with a mea culpa in his back pocket. I could have been testy about all the stuff that went down that lead to us not speaking any more, but let it slide. A split second decision to grant amnesty. And I'm glad it went that way.

We went for a drive in the Malibu. And in doing so I managed to lift one of my heads on an extremely spirited throttle input vs vehicular velocity test, which in turn vented my entire cooling system into my engine bay through what is now undoubtedly the tattered remains of my left headgasket. Major boom. Nearly moreso because at the conclusion of the standing burnout the coolant sprung forth and utterly eliminated traction while I was at peak output, almost tossing us like so many frat boy promises into a nearby bus stop.

But it's cool. I have a good friend back.

And this is nothing out of the ordinary.

See.

Whenever we get together something blows up. His 190e, his skyline on multiple occasions, my old AMC eagle, and on and on. I think it's tradition. We always have the best chats and catchups while waiting in purgatory together. Be it while waiting for the flatbed to take us home or while freezing our fingertips trying to get an RB2o running in minus 30 because it seemed like a good idea at the time.

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This time, I guess he recently lost his father and needed to talk to someone. And I'm glad we did. He's doing ok. He now showers regularly and seems to have really stepped up his photography game something fierce. And good for him.

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The moral of the story is that bad blood sure is sweet and fiery but it can kill a man as fast as anything.

I will tear into the mighty 400 sbc and see what I can find this weekend. Best case, headgasket. Worst case, it's time to consider a full tear down and buildup for the next driving season come the spring.

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I may also have bought a few cigarettes. On the cusp of quitting too. But I did just rekindle a good friendship and blow my baby up.