I’m not going to lie. I miss posting here. I’ll resolve that with a post, so here we go. If you see “zombievrobot” as the poster it’s not Discoquinn.
In celebration of a certain celebrities 26th birthday, an innocent unsuspecting car was obtained. The first(ish) generation RX7 boasted the unmurderable 12a and mediocre styling (by my account). First thing inevitably being first, style happened. Saturday was spent making some minor adjustments to the mechanics and major adjustments to the swag. The only mandate being, there had to be three dicks on the car. So many goddamn dicks.
Don’t let the nature of the looks fool you. It took five semi-muscular men a full day to transform this vehicle.
Sunday was the reckoning.
The “track” was a grueling gravel climb through Canadian wilderness. A huge list of drivers each took turns trying to murder the car on rocks, branches, flatscreen tvs and eventually through flinging it into the air. The RX7 took the abuse and used it’s cartoon eyes to say “u mad bro”?
Suddenly a challenger appeared.
and soon, tandem gravel crashing was a thing.
By the end there was nothing left to do but set the FB free.
A full day of fun. Black lungs, black nostrils, black hearts.
RX7’s are rad.
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