So about a month ago I bought a real minty Iroc-z, with a lil 'help*' from a friend....

(thats me and the car while it was still at the prior owners place)

Now, the car had been sitting since 2002 and needed a fuel tank and pump and pretty much every sensor and a tune up. The friend was no where to be found for any of it...yet I've helped him with 2 engine swaps, at night, in a back alley with minimal lighting.

The car also needs another oil change (put 500 miles on fresh oil...but its been sitting, just wanna play it safe), but it has a stripped drain plug (prior owner, put it back in for the time being, as i don't have enough leverage while laying on the floor to thread in and oversized plug.) So i call up said friend and say 'Hey, whats the schedule look like down there for oil changes'. The reply I get is beyond comprehension. 'Fuck no, take it to jiffy lube, i don't want to lose my job'. mind you, he shows up for work every day stoned off his ass, and we've brought my cars in for some pretty dumb shit (wheel bearings, alignments, 'inspection' stickers) without any problems. Hell, his car normally takes up a bay because its always broken (its a 74 chevelle with a half assed engine he built)

Now, here's what my thoughts are. He's jealous of me. For my car. Because girls like me a lil bit more (maybe it's because i still have all of my fucking teeth and don't reak like camel menthol's?). Because I can fall into a pile of shit and come out smelling like a rose. Over the past month (since i bought the car) he's only come over when i had a party. He hasn't called me not a once, but I've called him about 10 times.

What's the lesson to be learned here? When you have nice things, people resent that.


*that help was firing up another car that the camaro seller had, then proceeding to break out a fucking timing light, and tuning the carb, and trying to talk me into a rotted out pile of shit monte carlo because thats what his first car was