In a message dated 10/18/98 6:34:06 PM Eastern Daylight Time,
stei0302@cs.fredonia.edu writes:
<< From now on, you can be the commie. I'll be the capatilist pig. :-)
Da comrade? ;-) >>
Don't think so Tim :-) You fit the bill :-)
<< Heh heh heh! A reaction time here and a holeshot there will make the
win light come on every time. ;-)>>
I figured out this reaction time deal, your in trouble there :-) Hey Larry why
don't you drive my Dak fer a while :-)
<<Not to mention the freedom
to shift whenever I want to. I can rebuild my engine into something that'll
rev to 8,000 rpm and not have to worry about the tranny shifting at 4500 or
so. :-) Lesse what else? Low traction capability, being able to push start
the engine, better gas mileage, more fun, and I know there's gotta be
more... >>
I can to nanananana. Adjust the linkage and cables right and it will shift
where you want it to or ya can shift manually without having to clutch. Low
traction how what it ??? Push start the engine Autos start with a key,
everytime !! Better gas mileage, what you getting buckaroo ??? More fun
BAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA you aren't serious are you ? BAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA You
need to go get a auto and start enjoying life :-)
<>
Come on over, as long as it hain't snowing :-)
<< Maybe your tranny is different, but with every auto that I've driven,
when I step on it, it starts to speed up, then it goes "duhhh...", decides
to shift down, then maybe tries the next gear down, which it doesn't like,
so it goes one further, then almost immediately has to shift back up, all with
nice delays spread through there. :-) On the other hand, its VERY different
with my truck: Based on RPM, engine sound, road conditions, and a billion
other variables completely foreign to an auto tranny, my amazing
supercomputer-like brain computes the precise gear I should be in as I push
in the clutch, and bring up the rpm's. Biceps rippling, I slam the stick
into
the proper gear and the clutch is already on its way back up. The power
kicks
in like a JATO rocket burrowing into my chest. My radar detector tears off
the
windshield with an unholy shriek and smashes through the rear window. The
tires
smoke, the front end raises 3 feet, the asphault wrinkles as it bleeds molten
rubber, and I'm screamin' down the road executing the remaining shifts with
perfect timing and precision. Babies cry, men cringe in fear, and women
stare
adoringly. In mere seconds, I dissapear over the horizon and become nothing
more than a memory. The local elders will pass the legend of the manual
tranny
down through the generations. It is said that one day this warrior will
return
to free the world of the tyranny of the auto trannies forever. (Editors
note:
the preceding paragraph may have contained slight dramatization.)>>
BAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA Only Jon could come up with that
BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA
<< the only thing the auto doesn't do for me is help my terrible
>reaction times :-)
Heh heh heh! And I'd like to keep it that way, if possible. ;-)>>
Not possible !!!! :-) I hope
Bill
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