A whole lot of anxiety. Next Thursday is closing. Fingers crossed all the T’s are dotted and the I’s are all crossed.
Previous Build
German Staff Car Type 230
The Mercedes-Benz W 153 was a luxury six cylinder passenger car built in parallel with the W 143 from 1938, and first presented in public at the Berlin Motor Show early in 1939. It was one of several Mercedes-Benz models known, in its own time, as the Mercedes-Benz 230 (or sometimes, in this case, as the Mercedes-Benz Typ(e) 230).
The car had the same 3,050 mm (120 in) wheelbase as the longer wheelbase versions of the W143 from 1937, but with a completely new and much more modern body as well as a completely new chassis. In place of the earlier car’s pressed steel subframe the W 153 had an x-shaped oval tube subframe. The car had been developed by Hans Gustav Röhr who headed up the company’s Passenger Car Development Department for two years prior to his death in August 1937.
I hope Walrus isn’t going to be living in one of those uppity HOA’s gated community ripoffs because they don’t allow battle tanks in them. But all the babes by the pool would make it worth it. Splish splash.
No — but some judge in New York just determined that, because Walrus posts on IMAO, the value of the property is way different from what the buyer, seller, appraiser, insurer, and bank all agreed upon.
This is NOT America!!
Make America Gene’s Again!
Those weirdo doors are called “suicide doors,” but . . .
Isn’t the modern configuration of a door more likely to facilitate suicide?
Today: You open the door, you roll out, you die.
Then: With the weirdo door, you open it, jump, rebound, get pushed back into car.
Those weirdo doors are called “suicide doors” because… when you slightly open the door to evaluate the extent of the grey poupon spillage, the wind catches the door and flings it open dragging you out with it. With Modern style doors, the wind blows the door closed.
Well, still… the wind flings the door open. No one can convince me that (even without seatbelts) the wind suction is going to be enough to suck you out of the driver’s beautiful bench seat. Or bucket seats. But let’s say bench seat.
Maybe on a tight curve. But I’m not a biologist. But even a normal door wouldn’t save you in a sharp-curve or rollover scenario.
In “Rebel Without a Cause,” Loser Dude died because his coat got hooked on the door handle, and he couldn’t jump out of the suicide door at the last moment before going over the cliff. Maybe that has an explanation in it?
Spoiler Alert: Loser Dude loses and Thurston Howell plays the father.
… so next installment will be called “Where’s Walrus’s Building?” You know, for the bar-b-que where you thank us all for helping you move.
Commenting here is not much of a help.
I’ve got some bubble-wrap you can use for moving bubbles.
“Commenting here is not much of a help.”
If ever there was a phrase that summed up IMAO, and was overused by my psychiatrist, psychologist, and parole board, This Is It!
Oh, and the lawyer at my FBI hearing. Don’t forget him.
And Mika.
“One button to go!”
She’s short, isn’t she, but with a big chest? That’s attractive.
“That one button’s straining, as it is. What? There’s four more to go after this? Then snaps? Zipper? Hooks and eyes? Tugging? Boots? Agreement on terms? It never freaking ends! All I wanted was some of that boobage. The rest was supposed to go along for a glorious ride, not make a huge commitment.”
Hmmm, a double bagger.
OK, it’s like a childhood crush on a teacher. Or nowadays, a crush on a well-built Karen. I admit that.
But, man. She is trim and well-proportioned.
All she’d have to offer me is one opening.
She has more than that.
Heh.
PG site; I had to choose my words.
This is not, in any way, of course, to detract from my devotion to MaryAnn and Ginger. Or to Miss Raquel. Or Daisy Duke.
What Mika may perhaps want — and what those others already may acknowledge — is a man to show her a good conservative time without her hair getting in the way, and without overly tedious discussion about dolphins in tuna.
Maybe not. Who’s to say?
I wish she’d grab a desk and let me know.