I know I need to set the valves on my Cummins, and I’ll get around to it, eventually, but not because the environazis are addicted to apocalyptic fear mongering. The kooks never stop, and for now there is no one to stop them. God help us. ...Meanwhile, I love the smell of diesel in the morning. It’s one of those simple pleasures a gorewipe like Obamao will never experience.
I love passing “Greenie Weenies” in their Priuses and hypebreds with my 450 hp Duramax. I start out slow until I get my tail pipe even with the driver's door. Then, I stand on the throttle and make them disappear on a cloud of black diesel smoke. All 450 ponies love a steady diet of environmentalist overkill. And I laugh profusely at the look on their faces as some try to catch me to flip me off, but they quickly become tiny specks in my rear view mirror.