Last week, I wrote a pretty moody entry and with that, my mom replied. Her reply was based off of my exclamation that she never really supported me when it came to things I was quite passionate about i.e. Cars.
"The fact that I don't always jump up and down might be because I am tired of your decisions to put energy into things with little return when you have BIG issues that require energy that could give you a BIG return... I just want to see you happy. I'm thinking there just might be a few bigger picture issues that need your attention. Your car is a material thing. I care more about your heart, your head, your character, your soul. Get those puppies lined up. Put the same amount of energy into them as your car or your fort and you will get my attention back."
Now I do agree with her on some points but I want to state my case here if not for me but for gearheads worldwide.
I have always been into cars. Not like hardcore rebuilding engines in my living room kind of stuff, but generally, I have enjoyed cars as far back as I can remember. Well, two years ago almost to the day, I met a bunch of gearheads near my house at a VW get together. With this newfound bunch of friends, I was immersed into the world that I had always admired from a far for my entire life. These were the guys who knew their shit. They were the ones who could swap engines and take shit apart and diagnose problems.
They helped eachother out, they partied at eachother's houses. They were pretty much an exclusive group of friends, all differing in background, ethnicity, financial worth where one thing brought them together: cars. With this friendship, brought character. It taught me that friends helped friends. To be responsible. To help others. To teach others. To be there when they needed you. This is what makes a human being.
Plus, I always wanted to be "that guy". The guy who could fix his car instead of bringing it to the dealer. The guy who could pull over and help someone out on the side of the road. It was a way of life which brought it's own lifestyle.
Over the next two years, I would learn how to work on my car. I would hang out in my friends garages soaking up as much as possible. Entire days would be spent just hanging out and learning. When my engine would die or something would break, a handful of these friends would volunteer their time and parts to fix my car. For free. Just out of friendship.
This is why I am so passionate about cars. I may not have the fastest or most expensive car out there. I may not be the best mechanic (if I can even call myself that) but there is a passion. Working on cars is able to calm me. It is something I take pride in. People look at my car and comment on it. It gets into magazines.
As much as some people that are close to me have a problem understanding the bond I have with the car and that, to them, "it's just a car". Well, it isn't. It's as much a family member to me as my dog is.
I mean, your dog isn't "just a dog" to you is it? Well, explain to me why you think that. It's a family member because it keeps you company, makes you happy, shows you affection, has it's own soul. Well, my car makes me happy, is grumpy some days and purrs on others. I look out my window some nights to make sure it's ok. It can calm me down or rev me up. It releases my stress on a windy road.
You may not see your car, or cars in general with such adoration as I do but you don't have the right to tell me my car "is just a car or a material possession". If that is the case, then that dog of yours is just an animal or your passion to play the piano is just a hobby with a box with strings.
"The fact that I don't always jump up and down might be because I am tired of your decisions to put energy into things with little return when you have BIG issues that require energy that could give you a BIG return... I just want to see you happy. I'm thinking there just might be a few bigger picture issues that need your attention. Your car is a material thing. I care more about your heart, your head, your character, your soul. Get those puppies lined up. Put the same amount of energy into them as your car or your fort and you will get my attention back."
Now I do agree with her on some points but I want to state my case here if not for me but for gearheads worldwide.
I have always been into cars. Not like hardcore rebuilding engines in my living room kind of stuff, but generally, I have enjoyed cars as far back as I can remember. Well, two years ago almost to the day, I met a bunch of gearheads near my house at a VW get together. With this newfound bunch of friends, I was immersed into the world that I had always admired from a far for my entire life. These were the guys who knew their shit. They were the ones who could swap engines and take shit apart and diagnose problems.
They helped eachother out, they partied at eachother's houses. They were pretty much an exclusive group of friends, all differing in background, ethnicity, financial worth where one thing brought them together: cars. With this friendship, brought character. It taught me that friends helped friends. To be responsible. To help others. To teach others. To be there when they needed you. This is what makes a human being.
Plus, I always wanted to be "that guy". The guy who could fix his car instead of bringing it to the dealer. The guy who could pull over and help someone out on the side of the road. It was a way of life which brought it's own lifestyle.
Over the next two years, I would learn how to work on my car. I would hang out in my friends garages soaking up as much as possible. Entire days would be spent just hanging out and learning. When my engine would die or something would break, a handful of these friends would volunteer their time and parts to fix my car. For free. Just out of friendship.
This is why I am so passionate about cars. I may not have the fastest or most expensive car out there. I may not be the best mechanic (if I can even call myself that) but there is a passion. Working on cars is able to calm me. It is something I take pride in. People look at my car and comment on it. It gets into magazines.
As much as some people that are close to me have a problem understanding the bond I have with the car and that, to them, "it's just a car". Well, it isn't. It's as much a family member to me as my dog is.
I mean, your dog isn't "just a dog" to you is it? Well, explain to me why you think that. It's a family member because it keeps you company, makes you happy, shows you affection, has it's own soul. Well, my car makes me happy, is grumpy some days and purrs on others. I look out my window some nights to make sure it's ok. It can calm me down or rev me up. It releases my stress on a windy road.
You may not see your car, or cars in general with such adoration as I do but you don't have the right to tell me my car "is just a car or a material possession". If that is the case, then that dog of yours is just an animal or your passion to play the piano is just a hobby with a box with strings.
I was on the train today and I was one stop away from my destination when I overheard on the loud speaker that there was a dead train in front of us. I assumed that this would mean I would be waiting on a goddamn train until it was fixed so I decided to hoof it. It wasn't too far. Maybe 6 DC blocks which is like 12 NY blocks. Still no bother.
It was quite nice to see a new set of blocks on the way to work today. New restaurants to try. New shops to look in. New architecture to one day photograph.
On my way, I stopped into a starbucks (I counted 12 on the way to work). I ordered my drink and walked the remaining few blocks. While I walked by the Cosi I had been frequenting for the past month, I noticed that the coffee whore saw me and out of no where, I flicked her off with a smile. Now I know all of you are probably thinking "Dude, that's kind of fucked up. Why would you flick off some girl who makes coffee. Surely you aren't that dedicated to the Starbucks brand that you would insult a rival coffee maker?"
No my friends, this is the brief explanation of a man and a retarded El Salvadorian that made her way to America by an inflated basketball and an ounce of hope in her heart. You see, our hero, decided to switch coffee outlets one day after waiting 20 minutes in line for his drink at a very busy Starbucks. He knew that on his way to work, there was a Cosi and the coffee he had gotten from Cosi in the past has been generally pretty good.
So, on the first day, everything goes generally well. Behind the counter sat 4 women of the latina persuasion. Usually, the same woman had helped me throughout my entire stay with this store.
The first day started out somewhat normal... I order my drink, repeating it twice as I'm sure "Large Skim No-Foam Latté" is a pretty confusing industry term for coffee makers. I get my drink, hmm, foam. Ok, no worries. On with my day.
And this continues for a month. Not everyday but at least 2-3 times a week.
Bagel, toasted please = bagel with cream cheese, not toasted.
Large skim no foam latté = you guessed it, foam. I hate foam with the passion of 10,000 burning suns.
So yesterday, I go in to said Cosi and order my usual drink. I noticed when she was making it that it didn't have foam. Dios mio! Could it be? A correct order? I take my drink to the counter with the sugar, add my dose and I'm off to work.
I take off my jacket, sit down and start up the computer, get settled and take my first drink of the liquid crack. Seems sweeter than normal... Take another drink... Um wtf? I open the lid and goddamnit if it isn't motherfucking hot cocoa.
I sit there thinking, "Jason, just let it be. You like cocoa sometimes, make this morning a hot cocoa morning." But then my wallet coughed and interrupted my thought, "Um dude, you just spent damn near 5 bucks for fucking hot milk and two shots of espresso, not cocoa powder and water. Go break that bitch off a piece."
So, heeding my wallet's advice, I grab my pussy drink and storm out of the building towards Cosi. I walk in, eyeing my so called hack of a barista and exclaim, "I ordered a latté, this is hot cocoa. I understand how the two are very similar in pronunciation but this is the fucking 12th time you have screwed up my order."
She looks at me like I am el diablo himself. She starts to ring up a new latté and I shout even louder again "Dude, I ordered a latté. You gave me cocoa. Can I have a new drink please?"
This time, her friends walk over and point out how she fucked up and started to make me a new drink with the same cup. I ask for a new cup. They start to make my drink but this time with whole milk.
Ok, now you are probably thinking I am legally justified to kill every employee in the store but I don't. By the power of Steven Segal, I calm my nerves just enough to tell her the drink is once again, incorrect.
By now, the manager came over. "Is something wrong with your order sir?" "Yes there is."
At the same time I am eyeing my drink being made for the third time and am trying to coincide my acceptance of the drink with my finishing blow of sharp-witted tongue lashing...
"A little bit of advice, if you work in the food service industry where the english language is pretty much a mandatory ingredient for successful profit making... Make sure you hire people who not only have a grasp on said language but also know to make what you sell."
And with that, I grabbed my latté and was on my way. As I left the store, I knew that I was probably being cursed at or flicked off but I knew deep down inside that I did something very important that day. I single handedly planted the seed of hatred towards all white men in that dirty basketball floating El Salvadorian fucktard's head and one day our paths may cross again. Hopefully, she won't have a knife with the intent on shiving me.
God bless.
It was quite nice to see a new set of blocks on the way to work today. New restaurants to try. New shops to look in. New architecture to one day photograph.
On my way, I stopped into a starbucks (I counted 12 on the way to work). I ordered my drink and walked the remaining few blocks. While I walked by the Cosi I had been frequenting for the past month, I noticed that the coffee whore saw me and out of no where, I flicked her off with a smile. Now I know all of you are probably thinking "Dude, that's kind of fucked up. Why would you flick off some girl who makes coffee. Surely you aren't that dedicated to the Starbucks brand that you would insult a rival coffee maker?"
No my friends, this is the brief explanation of a man and a retarded El Salvadorian that made her way to America by an inflated basketball and an ounce of hope in her heart. You see, our hero, decided to switch coffee outlets one day after waiting 20 minutes in line for his drink at a very busy Starbucks. He knew that on his way to work, there was a Cosi and the coffee he had gotten from Cosi in the past has been generally pretty good.
So, on the first day, everything goes generally well. Behind the counter sat 4 women of the latina persuasion. Usually, the same woman had helped me throughout my entire stay with this store.
The first day started out somewhat normal... I order my drink, repeating it twice as I'm sure "Large Skim No-Foam Latté" is a pretty confusing industry term for coffee makers. I get my drink, hmm, foam. Ok, no worries. On with my day.
And this continues for a month. Not everyday but at least 2-3 times a week.
Bagel, toasted please = bagel with cream cheese, not toasted.
Large skim no foam latté = you guessed it, foam. I hate foam with the passion of 10,000 burning suns.
So yesterday, I go in to said Cosi and order my usual drink. I noticed when she was making it that it didn't have foam. Dios mio! Could it be? A correct order? I take my drink to the counter with the sugar, add my dose and I'm off to work.
I take off my jacket, sit down and start up the computer, get settled and take my first drink of the liquid crack. Seems sweeter than normal... Take another drink... Um wtf? I open the lid and goddamnit if it isn't motherfucking hot cocoa.
I sit there thinking, "Jason, just let it be. You like cocoa sometimes, make this morning a hot cocoa morning." But then my wallet coughed and interrupted my thought, "Um dude, you just spent damn near 5 bucks for fucking hot milk and two shots of espresso, not cocoa powder and water. Go break that bitch off a piece."
So, heeding my wallet's advice, I grab my pussy drink and storm out of the building towards Cosi. I walk in, eyeing my so called hack of a barista and exclaim, "I ordered a latté, this is hot cocoa. I understand how the two are very similar in pronunciation but this is the fucking 12th time you have screwed up my order."
She looks at me like I am el diablo himself. She starts to ring up a new latté and I shout even louder again "Dude, I ordered a latté. You gave me cocoa. Can I have a new drink please?"
This time, her friends walk over and point out how she fucked up and started to make me a new drink with the same cup. I ask for a new cup. They start to make my drink but this time with whole milk.
Ok, now you are probably thinking I am legally justified to kill every employee in the store but I don't. By the power of Steven Segal, I calm my nerves just enough to tell her the drink is once again, incorrect.
By now, the manager came over. "Is something wrong with your order sir?" "Yes there is."
At the same time I am eyeing my drink being made for the third time and am trying to coincide my acceptance of the drink with my finishing blow of sharp-witted tongue lashing...
"A little bit of advice, if you work in the food service industry where the english language is pretty much a mandatory ingredient for successful profit making... Make sure you hire people who not only have a grasp on said language but also know to make what you sell."
And with that, I grabbed my latté and was on my way. As I left the store, I knew that I was probably being cursed at or flicked off but I knew deep down inside that I did something very important that day. I single handedly planted the seed of hatred towards all white men in that dirty basketball floating El Salvadorian fucktard's head and one day our paths may cross again. Hopefully, she won't have a knife with the intent on shiving me.
God bless.
Thanks kate #2 =)
"Excuse me, I didn't catch your name, but would you mind if I skeeted on you? Seeing as how we just met and all, I am not fully convinced that you would make a good mother, so I am electing not to ejaculate inside of you. Let me go get you a towel."
Just glorious...
"Excuse me, I didn't catch your name, but would you mind if I skeeted on you? Seeing as how we just met and all, I am not fully convinced that you would make a good mother, so I am electing not to ejaculate inside of you. Let me go get you a towel."
Just glorious...
jkrewdotcom: christian, what ever happened to wheatus? I'm a little worried.
workisforjerks: They just put out a new album.
jkrewdotcom: no way
workisforjerks: I saw it at Tower over the weekend.
jkrewdotcom: thank goodness. I was wondering if they needed a place to stay until things picked up
workisforjerks: Hahaha.
They still might. You should call.
jkrewdotcom: hahaha best album title ever
http://www.amazon.com/...
workisforjerks: They just put out a new album.
jkrewdotcom: no way
workisforjerks: I saw it at Tower over the weekend.
jkrewdotcom: thank goodness. I was wondering if they needed a place to stay until things picked up
workisforjerks: Hahaha.
They still might. You should call.
jkrewdotcom: hahaha best album title ever
http://www.amazon.com/...
I'll be in the fort if anyone needs me
7 Comments Published by JKREW on Monday, November 28, 2005 at 10:11 AM.
The time has come for something drastic to be done. I have been in this wrist-cutting mood for months now so I have decided (with proper counciling with kate) that I am to build a fort.
Not some bullshit fort made out of concrete or trees but a real deal cardboard box fort. (see figure 1)
I don't know where I am going to get cardboard boxes that will fit my 6'3" frame but it will be done and when it's through, I'm not going to let ANYONE in it except maybe kate or the dog and MAYBE the roommate but only if he needs to get to the kitchen to get food.
jkrewdotcom: so I think I'm going to be building a fort in the house.
will that be a problem?
Abyss91: nope
wait, do we get sandbags?
I want sand bags
jkrewdotcom:
sand could get messy
I will have a pillow room though
Abyss91: nothing a vacuum can't fix
jkrewdotcom: and maybe an artillery room
Abyss91: ohh. artillery.
jkrewdotcom: just wanted to run it by you first. It could be a rather large outing.
Abyss91: haha, no worries
jkrewdotcom: ok, ground breaking will be this week sometime
Abyss91: 'hey, I know we just met, but you should come back to my place... my roommate built a fort'
jkrewdotcom: hahahaha wow, you single handedly gave me the voice of reason in one sentence
I know, it's rough but the idea is there people. (God I need work to do today hahaha)
Not some bullshit fort made out of concrete or trees but a real deal cardboard box fort. (see figure 1)
I don't know where I am going to get cardboard boxes that will fit my 6'3" frame but it will be done and when it's through, I'm not going to let ANYONE in it except maybe kate or the dog and MAYBE the roommate but only if he needs to get to the kitchen to get food.
jkrewdotcom: so I think I'm going to be building a fort in the house.
will that be a problem?
Abyss91: nope
wait, do we get sandbags?
I want sand bags
jkrewdotcom:
sand could get messy
I will have a pillow room though
Abyss91: nothing a vacuum can't fix
jkrewdotcom: and maybe an artillery room
Abyss91: ohh. artillery.
jkrewdotcom: just wanted to run it by you first. It could be a rather large outing.
Abyss91: haha, no worries
jkrewdotcom: ok, ground breaking will be this week sometime
Abyss91: 'hey, I know we just met, but you should come back to my place... my roommate built a fort'
jkrewdotcom: hahahaha wow, you single handedly gave me the voice of reason in one sentence
I know, it's rough but the idea is there people. (God I need work to do today hahaha)
It gets worse before it gets better right?
11 Comments Published by JKREW on Sunday, November 27, 2005 at 8:00 PM.
Well, I'm pretty much mentally right at the point of going insane. I really don't know what to say so I'm guessing this rant is just that; a way to blow off a little steam.
I am almost at the point of pushing the do over button. I don't want to play anymore.
I took my car apart today. I am hoping to sell the pieces for which I busted my ass over the summer. Then I am going to sell my car. For 99.999% of the world this would be fine but for me, it's like stripping a child and selling the clothes and then later selling the child.
If you don't understand that or find it amusing then I propose that you go fuck yourself.
I seem to recall the one time my mother was truly enthusiastic for me was when I was trying to get into art school. I wish she gave a fuck about the things I truly care about in life. Too much "it's not realistic" or "it's a waste of money". I wish she understood that I am fucking good at what I do when it comes to things that aren't "realistic". Fuck that, I am amazing at what I can do.
It makes my stomach turn when she blows me off. I don't have many people to excitedly come to when I want praise or support in this world. I've given up on my dad but surprisingly, he actually gave a fuck when I came to him with things I had a passion about. Now I'm not trying to paint my mother out to be a uncaring bitch but I guess this is me realising that I really shouldn't involve her in things I really care about when I know deep down inside I am just going to be dissapointed by her reaction anyways.
Do you know what it feels like to finally write off your last parent out of anger?
God I want to be better. I need help.
I am almost at the point of pushing the do over button. I don't want to play anymore.
I took my car apart today. I am hoping to sell the pieces for which I busted my ass over the summer. Then I am going to sell my car. For 99.999% of the world this would be fine but for me, it's like stripping a child and selling the clothes and then later selling the child.
If you don't understand that or find it amusing then I propose that you go fuck yourself.
I seem to recall the one time my mother was truly enthusiastic for me was when I was trying to get into art school. I wish she gave a fuck about the things I truly care about in life. Too much "it's not realistic" or "it's a waste of money". I wish she understood that I am fucking good at what I do when it comes to things that aren't "realistic". Fuck that, I am amazing at what I can do.
It makes my stomach turn when she blows me off. I don't have many people to excitedly come to when I want praise or support in this world. I've given up on my dad but surprisingly, he actually gave a fuck when I came to him with things I had a passion about. Now I'm not trying to paint my mother out to be a uncaring bitch but I guess this is me realising that I really shouldn't involve her in things I really care about when I know deep down inside I am just going to be dissapointed by her reaction anyways.
Do you know what it feels like to finally write off your last parent out of anger?
God I want to be better. I need help.
Only 14 hours until this fucking day is over.
Best lyrics. EVER.
We are "cop rock" we are screech
We are z. cavaricci
We are laser removed
Tasmanian devil tattoos
We are third string we are puck
We are special people's club
We are the half shirts with
Irreverent spring break top ten lists
We are munsoned we are squat
We are flashing twelve o'clock
We are spread out butt cheeks
Pulled apart so just the air leaks
We are "ishtar" we are tab
We are no right turn on red
We are the moustaches
The beatles grew when they dropped acid
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
We are zima we are barf
We are cinderblock yard art
We are baldwin brothers
Not the good one but the others
We are amway we are shemp
We are sir david of brent
We are the queef after
A porn star breaks the gang bang record
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
I'm in a state of p fuckin' a
We are "cop rock" we are screech
We are z. cavaricci
We are laser removed
Tasmanian devil tattoos
We are third string we are puck
We are special people's club
We are the half shirts with
Irreverent spring break top ten lists
We are munsoned we are squat
We are flashing twelve o'clock
We are spread out butt cheeks
Pulled apart so just the air leaks
We are "ishtar" we are tab
We are no right turn on red
We are the moustaches
The beatles grew when they dropped acid
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
We are zima we are barf
We are cinderblock yard art
We are baldwin brothers
Not the good one but the others
We are amway we are shemp
We are sir david of brent
We are the queef after
A porn star breaks the gang bang record
You are the heart dotting "i"
In the word "apologize"
Scribbled drunk on a postcard
Sent from somewhere volcanoes are
I am the heart with no name
Airbrushed on the license plate
Of a subaru that was
Registered in pennsylvania
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
Do you even know what a wawa is girl?
Do you even know what a wawa is?
I'm in a state of p fuckin' a
I just told my dad over the phone that my grandmother died
3 Comments Published by JKREW on at 9:49 AM.
Well, that was comfortable.
THE HOLIDAYS ARE THE BEST!
THE HOLIDAYS ARE THE BEST!
Ever wanted to see a suicide bomber's vest? Some crazy shit man. I love how anal they were when placing shrapnel such as nuts and nails. *sigh
Click me
Click me
Nothing in the history of the int0rweb will ever top this video
1 Comments Published by JKREW on at 9:08 AM.
I used to think I absolutely hated the winter because it was gloomy and dark and depressing which is true, that bums me out a lot. But now I think I have it figured out. I hate the holidays. Fuck the holidays. It all goes to shit after halloween. September is dope because I get to go to H20 (dub show in Ocean City) and then it's my birthday which I could care less about and then pumpkin patches with my baby (which has probably been the highlight of the past 2 months). But after that, it sucks a big black throbbing cock.
I hate Thanksgiving. I hate having to go to dinner with people I have no social similarities with. I hate sitting there waiting to leave. I hate being the ONLY person in the 20-40 range at the table. Do you people not understand or grasp the concept or even notice that every year I NEVER join the conversation with you all? It's because I have nothing to add. I'm not even in your age group. I don't listen to Celine or Babs. I don't have a 401(k) or a mortgage. I don't have a mother who is sick or in a home. I don't enjoy sitting at a table fullof baby boomers who slowly get drunk.
I hate giving the fake smile and I ABSOLUTELY HATE the fake laugh. You know the one, where the drunk *insert name here* stumbles up to you and gets maybe 3 pussy hairs away from your face and thinks he's god damn Jerry Seinfeld and you give that fake nod and the even faker laugh and hope to holy hell he shuts the fuck up long enough for you to run to the kitchen.
Then, because no one would be caught dead changing "tradition", you have to go to another house because no one would come to yours. I mean fuck, although you are the one running around all over town like a circus pony catering to everyone else, god forbid people came to you once in awhile.
I wish I could just be with kate away from EVERYONE. We could make dinner, relax, and actually enjoy the holiday for once. But you can't do that because the holidays are a time for family to get together. My family is so bastardized, I don't even know what a proper one is anymore.
What else can I bitch about. Work is going well, the hours can eat a dick. Whatever, I'm paying my dues. Again. It's now 9 pm, I got home 30 minutes ago. I walked the dog and finished some freelance. I have yet to eat and when I do, it will be 10 pm. I'll have maybe 30 minutes of rest before I go to bed. And do it all over again.
This is no way for someone to live. I am supposed to be making extra money to pay off my debt but how can you do that if you have no time to breathe?
Fuck the holidays man. I have threatened myself that "next year, you won't leave the house" yet that year never comes. Because family is family and even though you see it as a punishment, you always have to tell yourself that 90% of the world sees it that way too. At least I can take some comfort in that.
So dear readers, join me in the toast: Yes the holidays can suck but that's why they are so spaced out throughout the year. It's done that way because by the time a year has passed, you have forgotten how much last year ate a bag of dicks.
Saluth.
p.s. Let's say a little prayer for Bubba Sparxxx, Alicia Silverstone and Fred Savage. I hope they had a net when the fell off the face of the planet.
I hate Thanksgiving. I hate having to go to dinner with people I have no social similarities with. I hate sitting there waiting to leave. I hate being the ONLY person in the 20-40 range at the table. Do you people not understand or grasp the concept or even notice that every year I NEVER join the conversation with you all? It's because I have nothing to add. I'm not even in your age group. I don't listen to Celine or Babs. I don't have a 401(k) or a mortgage. I don't have a mother who is sick or in a home. I don't enjoy sitting at a table fullof baby boomers who slowly get drunk.
I hate giving the fake smile and I ABSOLUTELY HATE the fake laugh. You know the one, where the drunk *insert name here* stumbles up to you and gets maybe 3 pussy hairs away from your face and thinks he's god damn Jerry Seinfeld and you give that fake nod and the even faker laugh and hope to holy hell he shuts the fuck up long enough for you to run to the kitchen.
Then, because no one would be caught dead changing "tradition", you have to go to another house because no one would come to yours. I mean fuck, although you are the one running around all over town like a circus pony catering to everyone else, god forbid people came to you once in awhile.
I wish I could just be with kate away from EVERYONE. We could make dinner, relax, and actually enjoy the holiday for once. But you can't do that because the holidays are a time for family to get together. My family is so bastardized, I don't even know what a proper one is anymore.
What else can I bitch about. Work is going well, the hours can eat a dick. Whatever, I'm paying my dues. Again. It's now 9 pm, I got home 30 minutes ago. I walked the dog and finished some freelance. I have yet to eat and when I do, it will be 10 pm. I'll have maybe 30 minutes of rest before I go to bed. And do it all over again.
This is no way for someone to live. I am supposed to be making extra money to pay off my debt but how can you do that if you have no time to breathe?
Fuck the holidays man. I have threatened myself that "next year, you won't leave the house" yet that year never comes. Because family is family and even though you see it as a punishment, you always have to tell yourself that 90% of the world sees it that way too. At least I can take some comfort in that.
So dear readers, join me in the toast: Yes the holidays can suck but that's why they are so spaced out throughout the year. It's done that way because by the time a year has passed, you have forgotten how much last year ate a bag of dicks.
Saluth.
p.s. Let's say a little prayer for Bubba Sparxxx, Alicia Silverstone and Fred Savage. I hope they had a net when the fell off the face of the planet.
jkrewdotcom: thats about it dude. Slammed. Kate and I are doing dope. I rock a PoS honda and a dying dub, moving to DC hopefully, buying a loft if I can, my ass is a little sweaty lately, I have chapped lips, had chicken tenders for lunch.
juicyincali: LOL
i like that abbreviated version
wanna hear mine?
jkrewdotcom: shoot
juicyincali: trying to save money for a christmas extravaganza, ive been biting my nails a shit load lately, my dog pooped on 3 different occasions this morning, i had thai for lunch, i leave in 6 minutes, got fat and ate a lot, wondered what was going on, got pregnant, stayed pregnant, got abortion, bought winter tires...um i think thats it
jkrewdotcom: wait, hold, back the bus up rosa parks
juicyincali: LOL
jkrewdotcom: I FUCKING CAN'T BELIEVE THAT
JESUS CHRIST
jkrewdotcom: SHE POOPED THREE TIMES?!
juicyincali: hahahaha
jkrewdotcom: damn dude, well, thats some good hustle for the gossip
juicyincali:yeah i try
jkrewdotcom: I mean, you were having a pretty dismal first half but you got your shit together, got knocked up for the team and pulled out a miracle comeback in the second half
juicyincali:LOL
jkrewdotcom: NOW GO HIT THE SHOWERS!
juicyincali:*slaps ass
juicyincali: yeah its rough
and on top of all that bs i cant have sex for a fucking week
HORRIBLE
that was my 1st and only question at the doctor
jkrewdotcom: hahaha omg, slut
juicyincali: hahahha all these other girls were like....will it hurt? how long until i can go back to work?
i was like ummmmm yeah so when can i bang it out next???
lol just joking
but i def did ask and i knew every other girl was thinking it
jkrewdotcom: "but doc, seriously, when can I get some dick cus this whole abortion thing is totally cramping my ill na-na's style"
juicyincali: they just felt bad asking when they had just gotten knocked up and were paying 400 bucks to unknock themselves
jkrewdotcom: I would have brought in a coupon hahahaha
juicyincali: LOL
jkrewdotcom:
"hey, can you punch my card. Two more and then the next one is FREE BABY!"
juicyincali: HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
juicyincali: LOL
i like that abbreviated version
wanna hear mine?
jkrewdotcom: shoot
juicyincali: trying to save money for a christmas extravaganza, ive been biting my nails a shit load lately, my dog pooped on 3 different occasions this morning, i had thai for lunch, i leave in 6 minutes, got fat and ate a lot, wondered what was going on, got pregnant, stayed pregnant, got abortion, bought winter tires...um i think thats it
jkrewdotcom: wait, hold, back the bus up rosa parks
juicyincali: LOL
jkrewdotcom: I FUCKING CAN'T BELIEVE THAT
JESUS CHRIST
jkrewdotcom: SHE POOPED THREE TIMES?!
juicyincali: hahahaha
jkrewdotcom: damn dude, well, thats some good hustle for the gossip
juicyincali:yeah i try
jkrewdotcom: I mean, you were having a pretty dismal first half but you got your shit together, got knocked up for the team and pulled out a miracle comeback in the second half
juicyincali:LOL
jkrewdotcom: NOW GO HIT THE SHOWERS!
juicyincali:*slaps ass
juicyincali: yeah its rough
and on top of all that bs i cant have sex for a fucking week
HORRIBLE
that was my 1st and only question at the doctor
jkrewdotcom: hahaha omg, slut
juicyincali: hahahha all these other girls were like....will it hurt? how long until i can go back to work?
i was like ummmmm yeah so when can i bang it out next???
lol just joking
but i def did ask and i knew every other girl was thinking it
jkrewdotcom: "but doc, seriously, when can I get some dick cus this whole abortion thing is totally cramping my ill na-na's style"
juicyincali: they just felt bad asking when they had just gotten knocked up and were paying 400 bucks to unknock themselves
jkrewdotcom: I would have brought in a coupon hahahaha
juicyincali: LOL
jkrewdotcom:
"hey, can you punch my card. Two more and then the next one is FREE BABY!"
juicyincali: HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
THE COP WROTE IT WRONG YOU BITCHES!!! hahahaha
PATRICK... not PATRICIA =)
PATRICK... not PATRICIA =)
Nothing is more depressing than going into your best friends house to see all of his shit packed up into boxes.
Well, maybe a seal pup getting clubbed on the skull in the dead of winter by a cigar smoking eskimo with a 6-day shadow and an eye patch but I didn't see that so the first option still stands.
Well, maybe a seal pup getting clubbed on the skull in the dead of winter by a cigar smoking eskimo with a 6-day shadow and an eye patch but I didn't see that so the first option still stands.
This is just a warning so you will know well in advance. If you wish for me to have thanksgiving dinner with you, I expect turkey, gravy and a little mashed potatoes. I don't need cranberry sauce or yams or string beans. I just want bird, potato and gravy. It's simple. I don't have the means or mental power to cook said ingredients so I ask for you to provide it for me.
In return I will provide jokes, inappropriate comments and a clearing of dishes.
Thank you in advance and God bless.
In return I will provide jokes, inappropriate comments and a clearing of dishes.
Thank you in advance and God bless.
This spot came out almost 4-5 years ago but it's still amazing. I think the story behind it was that they set it up on a thursday night, went through exactly 606 takes and on the last few feet of film on a late sunday night, it finally worked.
It's filmed non stop with no CG or special affects what so ever. Nummy.
Click me for the video
A little bit o' background for the spot: Click me
It's filmed non stop with no CG or special affects what so ever. Nummy.
Click me for the video
A little bit o' background for the spot: Click me
And... just if any of you were wondering
2 Comments Published by JKREW on Thursday, November 17, 2005 at 9:34 AM.I can't understand what you're saying. You're speaking in Canada.
1 Comments Published by JKREW on at 9:17 AM.
Gold Jerry, Gold!
Ali G's first three NBA commercials. (Interviews: Kobe, the TNT crew, and God.)
Click me
Ali G's first three NBA commercials. (Interviews: Kobe, the TNT crew, and God.)
Click me
Jesus Christ I want this:
Next year I will be at SEMA even if someone has to be killed...
Sexy ass flat ratted out Si.
And my buddy Brian's A3 who got fully sponsored *so jealous*
Next year I will be at SEMA even if someone has to be killed...
Sexy ass flat ratted out Si.
And my buddy Brian's A3 who got fully sponsored *so jealous*
If I win the 310 million dollar lottery tonight, this is what I plan to do with it:
310 million winnings
-210 million: Take out 100 for taking a lump sum
-110 million: 1/2 will go to taxes
-55 million: half to kate
So now I have 55 million duckets... What to do, what to do.
Invest in real estate ventures: 25 million
Twin turbo R32 engine swap in dara: 40k
Paying off every ounce of debt I own: 30k give or take a k
Hiring 1000 clowns to parachute into Times Square on a Friday at 5pm: 1 million
Having Nathan Kerrigan killed (he knows who he is): 30k
Cloning myself: 5 million
Hire Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie to sit in my living room and eat a container of crisco each: 1 million
Buy every company I have ever worked for and hated and then fire my asshole bosses and sell back the company: break even
Buy a zebra and break him so I can compete in horseshows: 20k
Have dinner with Evangeline Lilly and Johnny Depp (Kate would never let me have dinner with her alone so I have to hire Depp to keep her busy): 500k
A housefull of flowers so kate takes me back for having dinner with Evangeline Lilly: 50k
Pay to have JKREW added to the Oxford English dictionary: 5 million
Become a knight: 1 million
Plan an overpriced assassination plot for kate's sisters dog involving 3 pounds of plastique, a full SEAL and ranger team, 2 blackhawk helicopters, a plasma ray and one box of dog biscuits (small): 3 million
Follow my dreams to become a classically trained ninja: 1 million
Yeah, that should pretty much make me the happiest person alive.
*crosses fingers
310 million winnings
-210 million: Take out 100 for taking a lump sum
-110 million: 1/2 will go to taxes
-55 million: half to kate
So now I have 55 million duckets... What to do, what to do.
Invest in real estate ventures: 25 million
Twin turbo R32 engine swap in dara: 40k
Paying off every ounce of debt I own: 30k give or take a k
Hiring 1000 clowns to parachute into Times Square on a Friday at 5pm: 1 million
Having Nathan Kerrigan killed (he knows who he is): 30k
Cloning myself: 5 million
Hire Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie to sit in my living room and eat a container of crisco each: 1 million
Buy every company I have ever worked for and hated and then fire my asshole bosses and sell back the company: break even
Buy a zebra and break him so I can compete in horseshows: 20k
Have dinner with Evangeline Lilly and Johnny Depp (Kate would never let me have dinner with her alone so I have to hire Depp to keep her busy): 500k
A housefull of flowers so kate takes me back for having dinner with Evangeline Lilly: 50k
Pay to have JKREW added to the Oxford English dictionary: 5 million
Become a knight: 1 million
Plan an overpriced assassination plot for kate's sisters dog involving 3 pounds of plastique, a full SEAL and ranger team, 2 blackhawk helicopters, a plasma ray and one box of dog biscuits (small): 3 million
Follow my dreams to become a classically trained ninja: 1 million
Yeah, that should pretty much make me the happiest person alive.
*crosses fingers
ISSUE DATE: October 31, 2005
CLOSING DATE: November 21, 2005
ANNOUNCEMENT NUMBER:
OA-06-09-DH
Title, Series & Grade:
Supv Visual Communications Specialist
Visual Communications Branch Chief
GS-1001-14
($88,369 to $114,882)
Click me
*shakes fist at random drug testing and just about every other paragraph in that thing for which I am not qualified to do yet
CLOSING DATE: November 21, 2005
ANNOUNCEMENT NUMBER:
OA-06-09-DH
Title, Series & Grade:
Supv Visual Communications Specialist
Visual Communications Branch Chief
GS-1001-14
($88,369 to $114,882)
Click me
*shakes fist at random drug testing and just about every other paragraph in that thing for which I am not qualified to do yet
so lord knows jason needs a new stove
1 Comments Published by oh kate on Monday, November 14, 2005 at 10:05 PM.
Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Chuck Norris instead decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.
When Chuck Norris plays Oregon Trail his family does not die from cholera or dysentery, but rather roundhouse kicks to the face. He also requires no wagon, since he carries the oxen, axels, and buffalo meat on his back. He always makes it to Oregon before you.
Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
Chuck Norris's girlfriend once asked him how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He then shouted, "HOW DARE YOU RHYME IN THE PRESENCE OF CHUCK NORRIS!" and ripped out her throat. Holding his girlfriend's bloody throat in his hand he bellowed, "Don't fuck with Chuck!" Two years and five months later he realized the irony of this statement and laughed so hard that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.
Chuck Norris recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.
A man once asked Chuck Norris if his real name is "Charles". Chuck Norris did not respond, he simply stared at him until he exploded.
Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.
To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
The original theme song to the Transformers was actually "Chuck Norris--more than meets the eye, Chuck Norris--robot in disguise," and starred Chuck Norris as a Texas Ranger who defended the earth from drug-dealing Decepticons and could turn into a pick-up. This was far too much awesome for a single show, however, so it was divided.
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
Chuck Norris once shot a German plane down with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Chuck Norris. His reasoning? It was more "humane".
Chuck Norris once went to a frat party, and proceeded to roundhouse every popped collar in sight. He then drank three kegs and shit on their floor, just because he's Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
Chuck Norris found out about Conan O'Brien's lever that shows clips from "Walker: Texas Ranger" and is working on a way to make it show clips of Norris having sex with Conan's wife.
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
Before each filming of Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris is injected with five times the lethal dose of elephant tranquilzer. This is, of course, to limit his strength and mobility, in an attempt to lower the fatality rate of the actors he fights.
Chuck Norris took my virginity, and he will sure as hell take yours. If you're thinking to yourself, "That's impossible, I already lost my virginity.", then you are dead wrong.
One of the greatest cover-ups of the last century was the fact that Hitler did not commit suicide in his bunker, but was in fact tea-bagged to death by Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris punched a woman in the vagina when she didn't give him exact change.
Chuck Norris once tried to sue Burger King after they refused to put razor wire in his Whopper Jr., insisting that that actually is "his" way.
Hellen Keller's favorite color is Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris frequently signs up for beginner karate classes, just so he can "accidentally" beat the shit out of little kids.
When Chuck Norris's wife burned the turkey one Thanksgiving, Chuck said, "Don't worry about it honey," and went into his backyard. He came back five minutes later with a live turkey, ate it whole, and when he threw it up a few seconds later it was fully cooked and came with cranberry sauce. When his wife asked him how he had done it, he gave her a roundhouse kick to the face and said, "Never question Chuck Norris."
Chuck Norris doesnt see dead people. He makes people dead
Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Chuck Norris instead decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.
When Chuck Norris plays Oregon Trail his family does not die from cholera or dysentery, but rather roundhouse kicks to the face. He also requires no wagon, since he carries the oxen, axels, and buffalo meat on his back. He always makes it to Oregon before you.
Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
Chuck Norris's girlfriend once asked him how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. He then shouted, "HOW DARE YOU RHYME IN THE PRESENCE OF CHUCK NORRIS!" and ripped out her throat. Holding his girlfriend's bloody throat in his hand he bellowed, "Don't fuck with Chuck!" Two years and five months later he realized the irony of this statement and laughed so hard that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.
Chuck Norris recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.
A man once asked Chuck Norris if his real name is "Charles". Chuck Norris did not respond, he simply stared at him until he exploded.
Chuck Norris was the fourth Wiseman. He brought baby Jesus the gift of "beard". Jesus wore it proudly to his dying day. The other Wisemen, jealous of Jesus' obvious gift favoritism, used their combined influence to have Chuck omitted from the Bible. Shortly after all three died of roundhouse kick related deaths.
To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
The original theme song to the Transformers was actually "Chuck Norris--more than meets the eye, Chuck Norris--robot in disguise," and starred Chuck Norris as a Texas Ranger who defended the earth from drug-dealing Decepticons and could turn into a pick-up. This was far too much awesome for a single show, however, so it was divided.
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
Chuck Norris once shot a German plane down with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Chuck Norris. His reasoning? It was more "humane".
Chuck Norris once went to a frat party, and proceeded to roundhouse every popped collar in sight. He then drank three kegs and shit on their floor, just because he's Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
Chuck Norris found out about Conan O'Brien's lever that shows clips from "Walker: Texas Ranger" and is working on a way to make it show clips of Norris having sex with Conan's wife.
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
Before each filming of Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris is injected with five times the lethal dose of elephant tranquilzer. This is, of course, to limit his strength and mobility, in an attempt to lower the fatality rate of the actors he fights.
Chuck Norris took my virginity, and he will sure as hell take yours. If you're thinking to yourself, "That's impossible, I already lost my virginity.", then you are dead wrong.
One of the greatest cover-ups of the last century was the fact that Hitler did not commit suicide in his bunker, but was in fact tea-bagged to death by Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris punched a woman in the vagina when she didn't give him exact change.
Chuck Norris once tried to sue Burger King after they refused to put razor wire in his Whopper Jr., insisting that that actually is "his" way.
Hellen Keller's favorite color is Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris frequently signs up for beginner karate classes, just so he can "accidentally" beat the shit out of little kids.
When Chuck Norris's wife burned the turkey one Thanksgiving, Chuck said, "Don't worry about it honey," and went into his backyard. He came back five minutes later with a live turkey, ate it whole, and when he threw it up a few seconds later it was fully cooked and came with cranberry sauce. When his wife asked him how he had done it, he gave her a roundhouse kick to the face and said, "Never question Chuck Norris."
Chuck Norris doesnt see dead people. He makes people dead
That Starcrunch® can't fix.
God bless you Little Debbie. God bless you.
God bless you Little Debbie. God bless you.
careysutra: oh god thats funny
dude you should seirously do it
but imagine the amount of shit
jkrewdotcom: It would totally be worthwhile if I could train it to walk on a leash wearing a sweater
careysutra: oh fuck yeah
jkrewdotcom: or attack small children
careysutra: it would have to be some sort of duck harness
i dont think they make those though...
jkrewdotcom: OR GET ME A BEER FROM THE FRIDGE!!!
careysutra: hahahhahahahha
you would have to be inventive though
jkrewdotcom: he would have to roll it with his bill across the carpet
Dude, fuck the harness, I would train him to sit on my shoulder
careysutra: LOL
like a pirates parrot
and make it wear galoshes
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA
jkrewdotcom: And when people would stop in the street and say "awww, what a cute duck" I would sit there and just flip out saying "OMG WHERE!? GET IT OFF ME!" and then run down the street screaming
dude you should seirously do it
but imagine the amount of shit
jkrewdotcom: It would totally be worthwhile if I could train it to walk on a leash wearing a sweater
careysutra: oh fuck yeah
jkrewdotcom: or attack small children
careysutra: it would have to be some sort of duck harness
i dont think they make those though...
jkrewdotcom: OR GET ME A BEER FROM THE FRIDGE!!!
careysutra: hahahhahahahha
you would have to be inventive though
jkrewdotcom: he would have to roll it with his bill across the carpet
Dude, fuck the harness, I would train him to sit on my shoulder
careysutra: LOL
like a pirates parrot
and make it wear galoshes
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA
jkrewdotcom: And when people would stop in the street and say "awww, what a cute duck" I would sit there and just flip out saying "OMG WHERE!? GET IT OFF ME!" and then run down the street screaming
I would name him Melvin. He would be my best friend. We would go on walks together and when it was cold out, I would get him a sweater with eggs on it.
Click me
Click me
Mmmm, Dara at 4000 feet.
Dara has been sick for some time. Her lungs have been pretty worn out causing her to be sluggish and sounding like she had a bag of marbles inside her little heart. So today I finally got the balls to fix her. I had ordered the necc. replacement pieces over 5 months ago but it had taken me this long just to get the nerve to do the repair. I had to open up the engine to get to said piece and in doing so, I left her open to severely getting hurt i.e. something falling in the engine, me breaking something or not doing it right etc etc.
So here is a brief explanation of what was wrong (if any of you care):
The shifter rod, whose real name is the intake manifold rotary change-over valve, is a long, 6-holed cylinder in the upper intake manifold that rotates 90° at certain RPMs to maximize torque and horsepower in a given RPM range by switching between long and short intake runners. The change-over valve is more commonly known as the 'shifter rod', probably because VW lists the part as the 'shiftrod' in their parts database.
The OEM shifter rod has a serious flaw in that the bushings that are used to keep the rod tight inside the manifold wear prematurely and cause the rod to rattle significantly somewhere between 2500 and 4000 RPMs.
Yeah, just a bit of difference:
Anyways, the surgery was a success! I now have a brand new car again and I am fucking stoked. The car simply pulls like a madman through the whole RPM range and I must have a smile bigger than anyone I know when driving now.
Hooray for me not fucking up my car!
So here is a brief explanation of what was wrong (if any of you care):
The shifter rod, whose real name is the intake manifold rotary change-over valve, is a long, 6-holed cylinder in the upper intake manifold that rotates 90° at certain RPMs to maximize torque and horsepower in a given RPM range by switching between long and short intake runners. The change-over valve is more commonly known as the 'shifter rod', probably because VW lists the part as the 'shiftrod' in their parts database.
The OEM shifter rod has a serious flaw in that the bushings that are used to keep the rod tight inside the manifold wear prematurely and cause the rod to rattle significantly somewhere between 2500 and 4000 RPMs.
Yeah, just a bit of difference:
Anyways, the surgery was a success! I now have a brand new car again and I am fucking stoked. The car simply pulls like a madman through the whole RPM range and I must have a smile bigger than anyone I know when driving now.
Hooray for me not fucking up my car!
