Stop in for a cup of coffee
Blowin' down Rt. 10 across Eastern Louisiana one night about 3AM in June '95, I woke up in the middle of that big white leather sofa back seat with Sharon asleep against my shoulder and my stepson asleep against the window on the other side. Light poles are flashin' by - zip, zip, zip - dotted lines on the road are blurrin' together. 400's just purrin' and the exhaust is singin' in those 3-inch stainless pipes with the 4 glasspacks - wwwwwhhhhhuuuuuuuusssssshhhhh. In the front seat my brother in law's rocked back in the driver seat talkin' with somebody on the CB, his girlfriend asleep against him, mother in law asleep against the other door. I lean forward: That fluid speedometer's pegged out at 85. I sez "How fast we goin', Carl?" He sez "Well I don't really know, Ron, but", motioning out the back with his thumb, "HE says we're goin' 135." I look out the back window, Louisiana State Trooper's right on our back bumper, just haulin' *** across the panhandle talkin' with Carl on the radio, seein' what the old Lincoln would do.
Never have much trouble getting my wife Sharon to pose for a good photo op. She's all ham no pork. Here she is a couple decades ago sprattled 'cross't the hood o' the Mark V. What a freegin' car that was, Ferd product notwithstanding. Heaviest production car ever made, by anyone, anywhere. I had the overdrive set to kick in around 67, then it was Star Trek; fwhoooosh.
Blowin' down Rt. 10 across Eastern Louisiana one night about 3AM in June '95, I woke up in the middle of that big white leather sofa back seat with Sharon asleep against my shoulder and my stepson asleep against the window on the other side. Light poles are flashin' by - zip, zip, zip - dotted lines on the road are blurrin' together. 400's just purrin' and the exhaust is singin' in those 3-inch stainless pipes with the 4 glasspacks - wwwwwhhhhhuuuuuuuusssssshhhhh. In the front seat my brother in law's rocked back in the driver seat talkin' with somebody on the CB, his girlfriend asleep against him, mother in law asleep against the other door. I lean forward: That fluid speedometer's pegged out at 85. I sez "How fast we goin', Carl?" He sez "Well I don't really know, Ron, but", motioning out the back with his thumb, "HE says we're goin' 135." I look out the back window, Louisiana State Trooper's right on our back bumper, just haulin' *** across the panhandle talkin' with Carl on the radio, seein' what the old Lincoln would do.