March 27th, 2010. This car stinks. I don't mean it's a bad car, or in bad condition, I mean it smells, and not good. Very musty/mildewy in the interior. That can't stand, as my sister will want to come look at it, and she has a deathly allergy to mold.
Fortunately, the mold and most of the stench was emanating from the pimpmobile red velour interior that the Jedi car mensa who "fixed it up" before had stapled to the original seats.
Once all of that crap was ripped out (yeah, that felt gooooood) and bagged up for the trash, it started smelling better almost instantly. I rolled down the windows to air it out and pulled out the seats to bake in the sun. I'm sure the dead mouse under the back seat wasn't helping the bouquet of the car, either.
While that was going on, it was time to deal with the Autozone flame job. Did I mention that the guy who worked on this car before was a complete and total fuckstick?
Actually getting to to driveway driver status was fairly straightforward. The sticking brake and clutch pedals were solved with new return springs and copious amounts of WD40. The charging system wasn't working properly either. I mmentioned that the electrical on the car is a nightmare. Admiral Fuckstick, at some point, decided to convert the car from 6 volt to 12 volt system, which was a good idea, but, as usual, his execution sucked donkey balls. He'd added a 12 volt alternator, and by the time I got the car, the alternator was bad. I replaced it, but there are more issues, and it still doesn't charge right. I'll completely rewire the car during operation roadworthy, so I'll let the charging system slide for now. And, for what it's worth, Dennis (the guy I bought the car from) was NOT the one who perpetrated the "heinous fuckery most foul" on the car. Dennis wanted to restore it to "as new" condition.
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