Ever get mad and throw a wrench, smash something, verbal tirate, punch a...?

Threw a lil sledge hammer ,,landed in teh bed of a pickup hopped up and stuck itself in the back window

 

ahahahaha!

 

NEVER !!! Hah Hah . I guess you'd have to know me !! >>>>.

 

beat a q-jet flat into the pavement with a shorty sledgehammer once. My ford has a dent in the roof, the plastic clip that holds the rod that works the door latch kept popping off. Put a dent in the front fender wheel opening when I couldn't thread on a power steering hose. It's childish and all that, but it feels good at the time.

 

Very true. Watched that movie a thousand times and it never gets old

Mike

www.Customikes.com

 

just painted a 48 anglia..finally after 7 years got that thing together.i was working on a 69 el camino ss-396 4-speed out in the driveway...it pissed me off.i threw a hammer into the garage,but had enough sense to throw it AWAY from the anglia,completely on the other side of the garage.the hammer hit a tire,strategically placed against the wall.and bounced straight into the side of the anglia. i think everyone in ohio heard me after that.i don't throw things anymore.

 

Gee, I have not.

 

Lady came in with a V8 A/C monza for a tuneup. It did not go well. It had to go back to Earl Schieb (it had just been painted) for hood touch up.
I also have learned to walk away when my vision gets red, because you do not fix stuff in that condition.

 

A few years ago I was working on my 58 Dodge pu, thw wife hollers out the window that I had a phone call, it was my father -in -law with one of his dumb questions about his Jeep. He had the knack of calling when I was up to my ass with problems on one of my cars, needless to say he pissed me off I walked out the door and threw my pliers at my truck and thru the windshield they went. I haven't threw anything since.

Lee

 

Watched a guy get pissed trying to knock a hubcap on with a rubber hammer.....damn hubcap just kinda walked around the rim....in a fit of rage he slings the hammer into the floor as hard as he can... It bounces back spinning like a tomahawk and knocks his nuts into his back pocket.

We didn't get shit done for an hour after that......we was still laughing.
Rule #1. Never throw a rubber hammer at the floor....LMAO

 

1960 or '61, workin' in my Dad's gas station, got so mad at a tire iron I threw it across our driveway, across a busy two lane street, across the Shell station's driveway and into a bay there. Same year, same place threw a 3/8th ratchet through a window. I don't do such childish things anymore .. I just cuss a lot and leave it sit for a day or two. If I still did that I'd have trashed a T89 transmission the last couple of weeks ..

 

When I was a stupid kid in High School, I had a big fight with my mother. In anger I went downstairs to the basement found the nearest solid core six panel door that was leaning up against a wall and proceeded to throw a punch. When I got over the massive pain I looked down at my right hand to see my pinky finger was in a rather odd area! I also had a nice large hump under my skin on the top of said hand. Well after the emergency room doctor reset my fractured bone he went on to tell my I had what was know as a boxers fracture. Quite common when punching wrong. To this day I have no knuckle and a small curve on the top of my hand to remind me to use something other than me when venting my anger.

 

Another movie I've watched a thousand times is Christmas Vacation, me and my son know all the lines. Clark throwing a fit over the lights not working, thats a classic, funniest movie ever made.

 

A hot summer day in Texas (100+) about 5 years ago my buddy and I were putting in a new engine and trans in my beater Suburban. I had the Engine and Trans all painted and up in the air about 4 feet to get it over the radiator support when, all of a sudden this sweet looking thing comes flying into the garage with tears running down her face, telling me she just ran over my Jack Russell, Sparkie. I ran out out to the street and found that he was dead. I told her to go on it wasn't her fault cause, he was an escape artist and jumped the 4 foot fence. We had a little ceremony for Sparkie. Dug a hole in the hard Texas clay about two feet deep and buried him in a marked grave where he used to sleep by the garage.

After that I thought the best thing to do would be to just go back to on putting the engine in the Burb. As we start to push engine into place the AC/Delco hoist Adjuster worm screw end fractures and the whole engine trans go tumbling to the concrete floor. That's when everything went like tunnel vision. I slammed the Ratchet I was holding onto the floor and it shatterred into numerous pieces. I guess that was the limit for that day.

There is still a chunk of floor missing where the ratchet hit the floor, got a new one from Sears. The Burb runs great and halls ass for a 6,000 lb tank. I missed Sparkie so I recently got another, her name is Tango.

Lifes good and the older I got the more it takes to send things flying.

 

Used to throw stuff until I threw a good old Craftman's rachet through our wooden fence. Now I just cuss.....ALOT. Neighbors always know if I'm working on stuff or if the Raiders are on T.V.

 

I'm generaly too poor to risk damaging anything by throwing tools or parts. I either don't let it bother me, or I bottle it up (not good)...

Had been working on an O/T race car in the off season months, making several modifications, and every single one fought me pretty much all the way. Season's about to begin, and I go to change the oil - its a nice mix of 5W30 and coolant. I put my fist through the car's plastic header panel. The one thats not made anymore, the one that is broken on pretty much every car you find in the junkyard. I sold that car, and am now down to just the 28 Chevy. I've returned to my more careful ways when working on it.

 

It's better to burnout than to fadeaway..........


Word of advice to all you puncher thrower kickers........it is what you make it. Hell, I have plenty of anger issues but have seen how personal ugliness NEVER gets the job done mechanically. Knowing when to walk away will take your craftsmanship up 2 notches, no other changes.

If the anger's out of necessity, you need to either stop working on cars, or focus on owning enough backup that there's never pressure to run tomorrow. At which point the hobby can resume. Don't kid yourself, anger's a fastrack to burnout, and this shit's supposed to be relaxing & enjoyable. Feng-shui the garage or thin the herd or farm out an unpleasant task.....whatever you gotta do to find inner peace. Stay at it long enough and you'll even find zen within late models.

 

Not gonna go into detaills but yah, i've bought myself some auto glass in my time.

 

Once in a hurry after a tune up on my 74 Cherokee I forgot my glasses
On the radiator and slammed the hood down didn’t notice till I jumped in to fire
It up thought they were on the dash
Lessen learned slow down and do a tool check before slamming that hood

 

me and my buddy were working on his valiant and he needed to get the fuel pump replaced that night. So it was dark outside and we got those big ass lamps and we replaced the pump and the brackets that hold it in place just would line up so he got pissed and smashed both of his lamps. He was mad but i was laughing my ass off

 

Punched the ex-wife once. Stupid thing to do - She got the house AND the tools. Live and learn.

 

Next week on American Chopper....

You guy's all need to slow down and go to your happy place. I never get mad and throw stuff. I have been known to black out and wake up and find lots and lots of broken parts and tools. I'm kidding. I get good and mad but if my dad had raised you, you wouldn't have any desire to throw things either, lol.

 

well my soon to be ex would say we all have anger problems, heres one bro was working on his enginefor his 69 camero, had it in one of those cheep t stands, trying to get the filter off yank to hard and over it went right for the freshly paint fender, he tryed to stop it with his right hand but got it smashed and it still hit the car. so what does the smart one of the family do, he gets mads cussing up a storm and hits the solid wood door with his left. i'm L.M.A.O. by now sayint thats great both hands are messed up - so do i get to take your girlfriend out tonight for you... I got mad at my 63 ford once---- threw a 5lb. hammer out the door and it hit the front fender of my 52 F-1 and came right back at me.. now i look before throwing

 

Noticed a lot of replys involved lawn mowers
Back in my younger days I had a balky mower that was always hard to start. This one time I'd been yankin the rope, then fiddling with the carb adjustment screw till I finally got it running real good. My wife said to let her mow since I done worked so hard, so I went in the house. 15 minutes later I hear the mower stop so I pick up the screwdriver and head outside. I yanked & fidlled with that thing until in frustration I flung the screwdriver & stuck it in the utility shed door! Then she says, "Oh, I meant to tell you, the mower's out of gas"

 

Not yet today but its bound to happen. I dont think I can go a day or two without doing something like that. I almost named my last car "you peice of sh^& motherfu%&(%"

 

how the fuck do you pronounce that shit?

 

I usually get pissed and start cussing with no end. My old man on the other hand does both. I remember when I was about 12 my dad had a 73 Vette Convertible and was putting it in the other garage at the old house. Well there was a flowerbed around the garage door and my dad cut the car too sharp and tore a chunk of fiberglass out of the front fender when it drug on the flowerbed. Well this didn't set well and he got major pissed and through an axe handle at the car and put a huge crack in the door. In the end it cost him more to fix his anger mistake as compared to the original mistake.

 

Shot a radio with a 44 mag one time.

 

I was re-arranging some stuff in our storage shed and broke an antique dresser mirror. I screamed "F&*%K, F^#$K, F@*#K!!!" just in time to turn and see my 4 year old son watching me with a scared look on his face. I felt pretty small.

Never again.

 

Not me. I'm like a freakin' Shaolin monk; all placidity and patience.