Coming back from Kroger, traffic was squeezed down to one lane to route it around a three car bumper-to-bumper-to-bumper stackup.
The lead car was a Jeep Grand Cherokee in that kind of champagne/bronze color. The second car was another Jeep Grand Cherokee in that kind of champagne/bronze color. The unfortunate tail-end Charlie was a Jeep Cherokee in bright red. As I'm passing the wreck, I glance in my rearview, and the car directly behind me in traffic is...
...a Jeep Grand Cherokee in that kind of champagne/bronze color.
That one's gonna be fun to sort out in a courtroom: "Well, Your Honor, then the Jeep..."
"Which Jeep?"
"The brown one..."
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12 comments:
I guess you could always show the judge 27 8x10 color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of each one describing where exactly all the jeeps were.
garm, you know why that wouldn't have done any good.
Anyway, it could have been worse. It could have been forest green Subaru Outbacks.
garm, you know why that wouldn't have done any good.
'Cause it's a typical case of American blind justice, and there's no way the judge is gonna look at the 27 8X10 color glossy photographs with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explainin' where all the Jeeps was at the time of the accident?
Aww man... now I've gotta go pull that out and listen to it!
It's a case of American blind justice.
I much prefer... "I don't want a pickle. Just wanna ride on motor-cycle...."
Being a life-long gearhead, I still have a problem figuring out what it is, exactly, about Jeeps that keep people coming back to buy new ones.
Ugly as sin. Unreliable to the point of bringing along a cell phone if you want to go out for more than a quart of milk, and to top it off, they're higher than giraffe tits on price. I know I'd never own one.
I guess it really is a Jeep thing. I know it's something I'll never understand.
Coming in to land in California during fire season, early 80's. . I was in the lead for some tankers and support planes coming in, the mnost popular being the Cessna 337. . push pull twin, known as the Skymaster. Sort of an unusual airplane. There were three of them inbound when the controller spotted a landing light on the 45 degree for downwind. He called "aircraft entering the downwind. . . are you a Skymaster?" And this timid little voice came back. . "uh. . . no SIR. . I'm just a STUDENT pilot".
*snicker*
Now that's funny.
(Back in my Gen'l Av. days I found it interesting that the Skymaster had its own type rating...)
b&n, I'm from Toledo (the "Grand" Cherokee, of course, ain't). I thrashed a '53 military to death, then made Jeep jokes with the restayas until I finally bought a new one, 1994. I've had German and Italian and British and Japanese cars NTM the usual, and that Cherk was W.A.D. the most perfect car I had ever driven. Sold it at 107K only because '06 was the last year for the Rambler (Chalmers) Six and the North Cove plant, and I figured I owed them one. 21K the first year, and still deluded. Your CJ jokes are still good, but we don't make no CJ's no mo. Perhaps you have confused certain pieces of DCX nameplate engineering with real Jeeps. Or do you think of the Dana 44 as just too new to trust?
b&n
Well, I'm one of those jeepers. I've got 3 of 'em. THough, they're not ZJs or WJs (Grand Cherokees). Mine have all been reliable and easy to work on, very modifiable, and a,azingly, affordably modifiable. I haven't had a vehicle any more reliable than my Jeeps, not even a Toyota. So, please keep your prejudices to yourself.
Personally I would trust few vehicles other than my CJ to get me to the middle of nowhere and back again safely.
Yeah, b&n, come the ZombiePocalypse, we'll just see...So There.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant, (Excepting Alice), You can get anything you want aaaaaat Alice's Restaurant. Just walk right in it's around the back. Just a half a mile from the railroad track. You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant.
And of course the Famous, "Shrink, I want to Kill"
I played that song during my junior year ('73), in a high-school talent show.
There is still a ding on my 1952 Gibson L-47 guitar from where a rock came flying out of the darkness of the gym.
I really wasn't that bad. The only thing I can think is that it must have been a Republican.
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