Quoth Food Lady
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Anyway, nearly every summer weekend, my mom and I will be having some wine out on her patio. Without fail, he'll start one of those things up, and will redline it. I can understand starting it up, gradually increasing the RPMs, but this goes far past it. Vroom vroom vroooooooom for a few minutes before he shuts it off. 10 minutes later, he does it again, and again. At least he did until last summer. As usual, we're out on the patio, one of those contraptions starts revving its nuts off...followed by the usual "it's going to pop" smell (if you've ever had an engine about to fail, you know what I mean), a loud expensive bang, and then a lot of cursing. Seems he was messing with his motorcycle, and blew up the engine 


vehicles probably wouldn’t need tuning so often if he didn’t. 


I really hope that at least one of their friends were sober enough to remind them of it the next day. I really, really hope they remembered how adorable they looked blushing when I dropped a long string of words that ended with cunt.
And, no, I didn't pay for any drinks for the rest of the night.
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