That's cuz the rest of it didn't fit; really it's;
440streetfishw/mt,burns rubber in every gear which is a ton-O-fun, but around turns with 235 front street tires (about the biggest I could fit in there), that BB whips me around backwards about 50% of the time, with just a tiny bit too much throttle,and that really really sucks; cuz there I sit on the center boulevard again, pointing the wrong way again, and boy I hope the cops didn't see this again, and I'm running out of matching aluminum wheels .... I used to be embarrassed when this happened but I now realize it ain't my fault, and there's probably a good reason Ma Mopar didn't put many of these on the road, and I guess I'm living the why of it......I don't know what I was thinking;Oh, I remember now, my neighbor Bob had this ugly old 440 motorhome engine sitting in the corner, and I had this 69 Barracuda with a tired old 383 in it, and over a few drinks one night a deal was struck, and daymn those beers, ifenow that 440 isn't itching for go-time....... So it's one-fourth Ma's fault, and one-fourth on Bobby, and the third fourth I'm throwing on the foamy drinks. But the last fourth is on Bobby's wife who when she came out get her husband, I lost all sense of direction.I shoulda never gone over there; life is hard ,and then it stinkith.
No this is not my story; I have never had a 440, and my neighbor's name is not Bobby, and his wife is nearly my age which if you get my drift,don't interest me at all, but most of all, neither of us drinks alcohol.
Hey,OP; fish-stink; I'm just funnin'ya. If you need someone to dislike, meet me over in the N&P
