Originally Posted by
Mosh
I remember a time when you had to wait til Sunday morning when this paper thing came to the house, usually pried out of a pile of dog shiat in the front yard, with no pictures, and a 8 word description that said "yellow Yamaha racing 250cc 3 wheeler for sale, super fast 200$ obo" Your loins burn with the thought of a precious Tri-Z is just waiting for your purchase....
You called giddy as hell, got directions, that you somehow found your way to without the aid of mapquest or gps. After a 53 mile trek,
You pulled up to this house in the boondocks where you found a rather burly woman in a tube-top splitting wood with an ax, 4 dogs running around with a case of the mange and 2 kids with pampers drooping to their shins.
You found your way over to a swing set perched over the hood of a 78 Impala wagon with wood grain paneling, and 6 dudes drinking Natty Lite at 10 AM on Sunday, with a small block Chevy lightly tied to said swing set, with a plethora of ropes and pulleys. A nice man by the name of Earl approaches and You were lead to the back of the "property" while dodging more dog shiat like land mines in the Viet-Cong.
Anxiously you rounded the corner of a 1967 coachmen pop up camper, and are greeted with the sight of a Yamaha "scary fast" 225dx, that once was yellow but now has more of a butter color, blended in with some type of moss overcoat, and a sapling growing out of the exposed seat foam. You can't help but notice the cool old go-cart that has Wooly Boogers on it. You further examine the 225dx to find the go cart turf-tamers welded on to the rear axle with what appears to be a old dinner spoon lightly melted on with a car battery as a welder. Further examination reveals the pull start cover is missing, with what appears to be one of the old dog leashes, or chevy engine support rope, wrapped around the fly wheel. But all hope is not lost..Earl gives that dog leash one light tug and the "scary fast Yellow Yamaha 250cc racing 3 wheeler" roars to life in a ploom of blue smoke. Earl, mounts the beast and shows you his one handed wheelie prowess while holding onto that Natty Lite without spilling one drop.
He offers to give you a ride on this machine as it is "not for beginners," where he rides you back to the swing set engine hoist and 5 professional car mechanics. Miss tube-top timber splitter gal, yells over the bonfire of beer cans, "MY daddy gave me that 3 wheeler for prom in 83," and it is not for sale.
You leave with more questions unanswered than you arrived with, with smashed dog turd in your shoe tread, and a few chunks of it on your elbow...
Yeah, The internet buying thing sucks for sure!
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