ClickHole Karting

Karthole… just no. Please.

They check our karthole in tech sometimes.

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You have a kart proctologist on staff in tech? Nice.

So that’s what they are doing when they probe my karthole in tech. (I didn’t start this, I blame TJ)

Bosch LSU 4.9 Probe Kart

Well, we’ve got Massholes to describe Boston drivers.

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His name is Frank and he is very gentle with his no go gauge.

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Saw a little girl pick up a squirrel. Squirrel did absolutely nothing.
That girl scares me

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Oh good, I thought my tech was the only one that did that.

@Bimodal_Rocket we are massholes because of the amount of massive holes in our roads.
You’d drive like a masshole too if your roads looked like Swiss cheese
Are Boston drivers actually that bad? I’ve only person driven in NE so I’m not sure if it’s true or not.
Have you guys heard of prawo jazdy?

I’m not sure where masshole comes from but it’s an internet thing I heard. Personally, I have never driven in Boston so dont know if it’s worse than NJ/NY. Would take some work, but anything is possible.

Re: Prawo Jazdy… I had not heard of him but wiki says:

"Prawo Jazdy " was a supposed Polish national who was listed by the Garda Síochána, the national police service of the Republic of Ireland, in a police criminal database as having committed more than 50 traffic violations in Ireland. A 2007 memorandum stated that an investigation revealed prawo jazdy(pronounced [ˈpra.vɔ ˈjaz.dɨ]) to be Polish for ‘driving licence’, with the error arising due to officers mistaking the phrase, printed on Polish driving licences, to be a personal name while issuing traffic tickets.

So let’s see, we have go karts, squirrel wrangling, proctology, and polish driving licenses so far. What’s next?

Texas BBQ is the best BBQ.

image

Lemme see if I can find @GregF excellent walkthrough of bbq.

Found it!

Kartpulse covers all the important racing related stuff

The thought has crossed my mind to show up at the track with my smoker bellowing that gray goodness and sell off my tasty treats to fund my weekend. :stuck_out_tongue_winking_eye:

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Is it a tow behind smoker? Because that would be a hell of a sight. Towing a trailer towing a smoker. My kinda party.

Not sure of the origin either but typically in NY if you encounter an erratic driver on the highway (changing lanes for no reason, can’t maintain a constant speed, or hanging out in the left lane) there are usually MA plates on the car. Other drivers mutter…Masshole!

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I wish!!! Unfortunately mine is a free standing, but I know a guy that has a tow behind monster of a smoker. Maybe I can work out a deal with him where I buy the proteins and he mans the smoker, then we split the proceeds. Sort of like finding a food truck at the track. Neither of the tracks near me have much in the way of concessions. NTK recently opened a little burger stand, which is okay, but not the greatest.

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If they are parked in the middle of the street, having a conversation with someone also parked in the middle of the street in the opposite lane, it’s a Rhodie, most likely. Zing!

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Grab that squirrel!!

If you’re tempted to play with squirrels, just remember what Graham Rahal says…
“When you’re back with the squirrels, you’re bound to get your nuts cracked” :rofl:

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:sweat_smile:
I haven’t driven in New York yet, so at least you know it wasn’t me
But if you did see someone doing donuts and drifting in a snowy parking lot, that was probably me

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Seems like an appropriate shitposting location:

So, you want to try squirrel hunting?

Smells are strongly associated with memories, but sounds can be as well. The invisible gnawing is a nostalgic trigger for me. I turn back into that 12-year-old boy carefully coursing the sound and searching every limb for a tremble. Breathing slows, and I reach a level of focus only dreamt of in my other endeavors. It’s all involuntary. Some of it a vestigial instinct, a primal and predatory skill passed down from my Pleistocene ancestors and before that, my reptilian ancestors. But much of it was learned through the decades and lots of my own failure. A little bit nature, a little bit nurture, but it’s who I am at the core.

Shards of hull tumbling through the leaves give away the squirrel’s location long before I see a bushy tail. I circle the tree. The purposeful movements of the squirrel shucking the hickory nut shimmy through the branches.

I bring the Henry .22 rifle to shoulder, settling the crosshairs on the squirrel’s head and squeeze my index finger. The rimfire pops and the squirrel tumbles through the branches. Through the morning, I’m able to collect three more squirrels. I’ve got four others in the freezer at home and that’s plenty for a dinner…

This prose is lit.