Today was one of those days where shit just wouldn't line up.
Turbulence at home, blaring texts, a phone that wouldn’t stop ringing, people seemed weirdly stand-offish, cold, or unhappy with my existence, 90 percent of my friendships were failing, and money’s tight. I had that fucked up feeling that everyone was against me.
I'll start by saying that this is an obituary .
My girl, my love, the only girl that's ever stuck by me no matter what, always kept me safe, and always got me home, died today.
In the four years we've been together, she's had her ups and downs but for the last two, she was u n s t o p p a b l e .
Hmm, well the car was still rolling when I put my hands up.
There was an eerie thing about the way the 944 was running because she never cuts off, but just when I would have had to put my hands back in and shut her off, she stalled.
My name is Seven and I own an early '85 944 breathing 22lbs of boost that I had big plans for ever since I bought it for a whopping 900 smackaroos. I've got knowledge in certain areas, but don't claim to know everything, so my humility from this moment forward was crucial to the success of this project.
In my father's eyes, the 944 was always a water-cooled piece of shit compared to his mighty 911. That never phased me, though; there was something about the 944 I was drawn to. So I bought one as a teenager with the notion that when I was ready to get into, I could just turbo it like any other car — and that was all there was to it, right? WRONG.