Tikkabik

So there's this asshat teenage boy who lives in my neighborhood. He has a mid 80's Mustang GT not unlike this one. He's the kind of kid who thinks he's doing power slides by stepping on the gas turning corners when the pavement is wet, breaking the rear tires loose. The stereo is loud enough to shake his fillings loose, but distorts like hell. Basically, he's a real MENSA candidate.

The car isn't in the best shape, like any Ford with more than about 50 miles on it -- there's body rot and damage that he's tried his best with Bondo and spot primer to patch and cover. It doesn't help. The car's still a frigging piece of shit, and as someone who spent his wasted youth in a Fox-body Mustang only 7 years older than this one, with friends who did the same, my teeth gnash every time I see him driving down the road, because I know damn well what happens when you mix youth, testosterone, and a car with a 5 liter engine together. Stupid things happen.

Anyway, this car started life as a black and white model, reverse skunk style: Primarily white body, with a big black stripe running down the middle. Skippy decided that this wasn't up to par with what he wanted, so he painted it.

Himself.

Using red spray paint.

Without even bothering to prime the whole body first.

I saw him over the weekend, proudly pulling the masking tape off the windows, after spending the afternoon applying the paint in his driveway. I'm sure his dad is thrilled that the azaleas next to the driveway now cast an odd red hue, even though they flower white.

It's clearly the best paint job that $25 can buy.

So, now that Gomer has an arrest-me-red hot rod, I'm wondering how soon it is before he wraps it around a tree, a telephone pole, or a stoplight. There are only two stoplights in town, so I suspect chances for a tree or phone pole are higher.

Anyone wanna lay down a bet?