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Well, I don't know that I'd go as far as to say that I enjoy "beatin' the piss" out'a my car. But, I do treat it like any other tool: I use it to do the job n' with respect n' the knowledge that it's not actually bulletproof r' foolproof; so it requires some involvement in plannin' it's prolonged life. And mine.
But, had I been on top'a things rather than runnin' home on auto-pilot, I never would'a wasted my equipment, gas n' time on that particular "contest". I allowed myself to get "spooked" into it. Dumb.
Oh, don't get me wrong: there're times when I'm the one that's gonna go for broke, but, like the bike, I wanna be doin' it 'cause I wanna dooitt. I don't wanna be wastin' my efforts on every pimply-faced Don Garlits wannabee that's got the keys to mommy's car.
Be well.
Java
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In life-long pursuit of that most mythic of beasts: the ever-elusive perfect corner. Well . . . that, r' at least a whole lodda clear spin-out room.
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