Drifting is more Shlammed than it looks
Step one: buys car
Step two: buys three sets of mismatched wheels and used tires
Step three: install extremely long shift handle, e brake lever, and weld diff
step four: goes to drift event and snap steer into wall
step five: sell car as "awesome race car project, never beated on and well maintained with lots of extra parts. Price firm I know what I have"
step six: no one buys the car so it's new name is Patches the Drift missle, goes to every skid pad in the region blowing vape smoke and claiming to be D.K.
Step two: buys three sets of mismatched wheels and used tires
Step three: install extremely long shift handle, e brake lever, and weld diff
step four: goes to drift event and snap steer into wall
step five: sell car as "awesome race car project, never beated on and well maintained with lots of extra parts. Price firm I know what I have"
step six: no one buys the car so it's new name is Patches the Drift missle, goes to every skid pad in the region blowing vape smoke and claiming to be D.K.
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in the above picture: is he getting extra points for his entry speed, angle, and clipping point and then his final judgement based on the culmination of achieved points?
if yes, then it's probably not a sport -- but quite possibly an Olympic game, where the winner can achieve nothing with his/her life with gained game skills but to be a commentator/coach.
if yes, then it's probably not a sport -- but quite possibly an Olympic game, where the winner can achieve nothing with his/her life with gained game skills but to be a commentator/coach.
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Junior Member
Joined: Sep 2011
Posts: 211
Total Cats: 15
From: Haddonfield, NJ
Tylerkun, let me preface this by saying that I have nothing against drifting or the stance crowd. Matter of fact, I'd likely be doing the same thing if I were a millenial. But allow me to share my age and pseudo wisdom with you. Many moons ago when I was a very young man, my much older second cousin shared this story with me:
There once was a little bird who refused to take his friends' advice to fly South for the winter. It was a beautiful day and he was enjoying having all the fruits and berries to himself as the weather quickly started to cool. Sensing trouble and with his belly full he decided to start his flight South.
However, the weather came in faster than he could fly. As he lost his body heat he started losing altitude and starts contemplating his terrible miscalculation. Finally he hits the ground in a huge empty field and can't believe he's going to die frozen and alone.
From out of nowhere a cow walks by and drops a huge steaming pile of **** on him. He can't believe this is how he would die: frozen, alone, and in a big pile of ****.
But just as he thinks all is lost he starts feeling the warmth of the steaming pile on his body. He suddenly feels that he will find a way to make it South and live to learn from his lesson. He is so overcome with joy that he starts chirping and singing and flapping his wings in celebration!
Just then a scrawny old beat up farm cat catches the display the little bird is putting on and without hesitation pounces on him, drags him out of the ****, and eats him.
The moral of the story:
-Not everyone who ***** on you is your enemy.
-Not everyone who gets you out of **** is your friend.
-If you are perfectly happy in a steaming pile of ****, don't feel the need to tell anyone about it.
In case you don't understand my dinosaur old man denture talk:
-You are the little bird.
-The haters are your friends.
-Drifting is the steaming pile of ****.
-The mods are the farm cat.
Keep chirping, you are about to get eaten.
There once was a little bird who refused to take his friends' advice to fly South for the winter. It was a beautiful day and he was enjoying having all the fruits and berries to himself as the weather quickly started to cool. Sensing trouble and with his belly full he decided to start his flight South.
However, the weather came in faster than he could fly. As he lost his body heat he started losing altitude and starts contemplating his terrible miscalculation. Finally he hits the ground in a huge empty field and can't believe he's going to die frozen and alone.
From out of nowhere a cow walks by and drops a huge steaming pile of **** on him. He can't believe this is how he would die: frozen, alone, and in a big pile of ****.
But just as he thinks all is lost he starts feeling the warmth of the steaming pile on his body. He suddenly feels that he will find a way to make it South and live to learn from his lesson. He is so overcome with joy that he starts chirping and singing and flapping his wings in celebration!
Just then a scrawny old beat up farm cat catches the display the little bird is putting on and without hesitation pounces on him, drags him out of the ****, and eats him.
The moral of the story:
-Not everyone who ***** on you is your enemy.
-Not everyone who gets you out of **** is your friend.
-If you are perfectly happy in a steaming pile of ****, don't feel the need to tell anyone about it.
In case you don't understand my dinosaur old man denture talk:
-You are the little bird.
-The haters are your friends.
-Drifting is the steaming pile of ****.
-The mods are the farm cat.
Keep chirping, you are about to get eaten.
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