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ArT, unless you're ready to dedicate your entire paycheck n' life to turnin' Stewie from an epee into a claymore (the edged claymore guys, not the current military model) get used ta gettin' smoked once in a while.
Water's wet, wimmen got secrets, sports car don't out muscle the muscle cars n' muscle cars don't out sport the sport's cars. Unless you're somebody as willin' to get as deep into it as Shelby, Callaway r' Yamaha (you guys ever hear of the OX-11?) odds are that the end result of your efforts won't be near as capable as what you started out with.
Get'cher self a Mustang to burn off those extra hormones.
Of course, the preceedin' was strictly personal opinion. ('Seemed like an appropriate time for a disclaimer)
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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