Just found a lovely little story (actually, it's quite long, but well worth the read) to enlighten anyone here who is unsure about the term: 'Ricer' (or as we call them, a 'Chav' or a 'Barry')


"So, I’m a car enthusiast and part-time auto mechanic who helps my neighbors out with their cars. Hey, I’ve got a little knowledge (Been doing this for a number of years) and I’ve got a great set of tools. I have a rather fast and rare early ‘70’s hobby car that I take out on weekends…..an Oldsmobile 442.

So anyway, my neighbor’s kid turns 17 and the mama gives him her Honda Civic for school. Say it with me now: “HONDA CIVIC”. Plastic and aluminum, AUTOMATIC, 75 Horsepower, basic commuter car, Honda Civic. Perfect for a new driver though…..it’s economical, easy to maintain, dependable, a great thing for Junior, I thought.

The first week was fine. He bought some of those ghetto spinning hubcaps and a set of dragon seat covers for it. That should have been it. He should have left it alone. The week after that, I walk out to my mailbox and I almost called CNN. I thought I had just seen a UFO! As it slowly approached around the corner, I could see it was a Honda Civic…..but with four different blinking colors of neon underneath it. Holy Crap! Even the parking brake was blinking.

Midnight…..48 hours later. I’m lying in bed with my girlfriend when I hear WHAAAAA-ZHOow! WHAAAAA-ZHOow! Over and over again in my neighbor’s garage. “Well, this is a damn odd time for Mr. Richardson to be screwing around with his weed-eater”, I thought out loud. After 45 minutes of this irritating buzzing, I thought I’d go over and ask the neighbor to do his yard work in the morning like a normal person. Here is the junior Richardson boy, proudly revving his engine up and down. Four more wannabe fake “gangsta-***” kids were standing around ‘tuning’ his new exhaust….which consisted of a rather tiny header as well as 4 coffee cans spray painted silver with the words TYPE-R stenciled on it in red. (It was obvious they had no clue what they were doing….even the paint was running).

“Holy sh**”, I told him, “Please quit fu***** with the car so we can get some sleep”!


Wait, that is BY FAR not all.

Following week, he asks me if he can borrow a screwdriver and a hammer. He’s trying to install his new “Type-R” rear spoiler. He was damn proud of it; paid almost $600.00 for it, in fact. I asked him where he was going to put it since the Civic he got has no trunk. “The roof, Dawg”, is what he told me. This spoiler looks like one of those aluminum picnic tables you would see in a public park, except for tons of rivets and the words Type-R all over it. I almost stopped him, but I wanted to see just how retarded it would look. I gladly helped him install it. Yup. Totally retarded…..Classic. He went on to explain to me that he required it for all of the downforce he needed to maintain traction at 200MPH. Yes, TWO-Hundred miles per hour. 4 cylinders, 75 Horsepower, downforce. Oh my God, what a dumb@ss.

It gets better……

Two weeks later he’s asking to borrow my cordless drill. He just bought a $1,200.00 body kit, yo, and he needs to be “down fo shizzle wit da tool dawg to install it, no wut he’s sane, dawg”? Pay attention now:

It gets good here. So junior “D**k-son” drills all the holes, tapes it and screws this plastic thing to his car and it REALLY is beginning to look like a spaceship, or an alien, or circus car………well maybe not yet. That’s coming. Here’s the problem: the body kit is white, the Civic is dark green. It looks like burrito vomit….and the car is a full 4 inches wider and 2 inches lower than it was before. He can’t get the doors to open or close properly because the “jiggy-fly body kit yo” is catching the door jamb. So, always the helpful one, I lend him my grinder. That was the coolest, watching this ‘tard grind away on his new $1,200 yo yo word up body kit. Word. It was the flyest dawg. HAHA!

Circus Act Part 1: Now he decides he wants to “lower the ride, dawg”. I wouldn’t let him use my tools, as I was afraid this dumb@ss would damage them or hurt himself in the process. He wanted to cut the coils….dangerous…..unsafe…..stupid. After several hours he succeeded but now his new body kit was dragging on the ground and to top it all off, the car was bouncing up and down like a carnival ride, thus ending his neon lighted story. His Type-R exhaust was dragging the ground as well. Can you imagine the sound of a weed-eater being scraped on a chalkboard? That’s what this damn thing sounds like.

You should see how retarded it looks. A huge picnic table on the roof, 2-tone body kit, blinking, stickers everywhere, buzzing like a chainsaw, bouncing up and down like a clown car. There must have been 30 stickers on it by now advertising everything from websites to dragons to “NOS” to “Turbo by Garrett”. Oh yeah and he got some of those clear Altezza taillights too.

Wait, that’s not all. Now Honda-tard wants a “Syssem, yo” He pieced together 6 different trashed car stereos, one home stereo and a Kragen auto parts special bass speaker that probably came from NAPA or something. Somehow he managed to get it wired to the neon lights (what’s left of them) so they would blink with the beat of the music….except you can’t hear the music. You can only hear the bass and it rattles his rooftop spoiler and license plate frame.

Now it REALLY is starting to look like a clown car.

Okay. Now for Honda-Tard’s carbon fiber paintjob. He puts a hood scoop from a 1960’s Ford Mustang on it and it is ENORMOUS. I must admit, however, that it did help to balance out the retardedness of the rear spoiler/picnic table. Then out come the spray cans…..18 spray cans to be exact. First he pulled off his ghetto spinner rims and painted the wheels black. Flat black. Then he painted the word up body kit BRIGHT NEON YELLOW. The rest of the car was painted BRIGHT RED with a purple fist turning into a dragon or some sh** airbrushed on the doors. Think this kid can paint? Nope. Think he taped up the windows and tires? Nope. You can imagine the result.

Clown car complete? Not yet.

As I stated previously, I have lots of experience with fast cars. Richardson Jr. knows that I know how to make a car go fast. He strolls over one day with a copy of “Honda Tuner Guy” Magazine, filled with equally retarded looking cars. He asks me “Yo Dawg, I wanna make dis here B18 go fast ‘n sh**. I wuz thinkin of an Acura V-TEC swap or some Nawz”. So I ask him, “What exactly do you intend to do with this car? Will you be entering it in the World’s Most Retarded Car Contest or what”? He replies “Naw cracka. That sh** be funny but I is fo realz. I needs to be running in the 10’s and makin 350HP”. So I ask him, “Why don’t you just save your money and buy a car that already makes 350HP, like a Camaro or a GTO or something, instead of trying to make a car with 75 Horsepower hit speeds it was never intended to reach”? He says “Don’t be a foo yo. You know dat Ode Skoo’ sh** can’t hang”.

Now I’m pissed. Insulted. I replied “Lookit here, junior, I’ll pull my Olds out of the garage and make your s**tbox look like it’s going backwards. No NOS, no turbo, no stickers, no damn body kit and nobody is going to help you beat the “Ode Skoo” cars. And the same goes for all your retarded Hyundai-drivin’ friends. I’ll have your hommies pissin' their pants before I hit second gear. You have six thousand dollars worth of junk bolted onto a thousand dollar pile o’ junk that was perfectly good when you got it. Now it looks, sounds, and drives like ***. Get the hell out of my garage”!

He looked like he was going to cry. He left with a solid “F-you, Dawg. I’ll beat your old man car wid a 150 shot”! And he left, trying to pull up his drawers and give me the finger at the same time. I just started laughin.

Showdown:

Now I am a responsible adult and I do not condone street racing. However, when faced with a direct insult, challenge, and F-you, any man tends to be defensive enough to take a few risks. It’s a beautiful sunny day. First day I’ve had my car out of the garage all winter. I check the fluids, I start the engine. I anticipate a crisp, lively jaunt at mind-bending speeds up the interstate. I rev my engine, I sip my coffee.

Honda-Tard heard me rev my engine, so he and two of his hommies do the same in their driveway. One is an Acura in the pre-R!cer stages of molestation, the other is junior’s mom’s Civic. Holy God. It’s a lawn mower race at the Richardson house. I crank my engine to 4000RPMs and drown them out. I climb in my car, check the gauges, and idle onto the road.

I look into my rearview, and I’m being followed by two bouncing, brightly colored bumping clown cars with backward-hat wearing retards pointing in my direction. I ignore them. Not worth the trouble. I’m an adult. Honda-Tard and Acura-Tard passed me when I got on the 680 on my left and right. WHAAAAA Gone. Good. I’m halfway to Livermore when I see them blast out of an onramp and attempt to box me in. Acura-Tard is revving his 4 cylinder and pointing forward. Honda-Tard is slowing down in front of me.

$&%@ it! I’ve had enough of these #%$gots!

I stuff it down into 3rd gear, opened all 455 cubic inches, and almost rear-ended Honda-Tard. I broke the rear tires loose at 70 MPH and Acura-Tard on my left was busy downshifting trying to get enough speed to catch up. I dusted these little peckers so bad they simply disappeared. I got off at the Livermore exit and waited for them by the onramp. A taste of their own medicine, I thought. Right back atcha hommies!

I let them see me. Then I smoked the tires and launched out of the ramp so they would know I was pissed and coming for them. I knew the Honda was slow, so I focused my attention to the little Acura and brought it down right on his bumper. I can’t say for sure how close I was to nudging him, but I’m sure it was within an inch or two. He was terrified. I’m on his ***, popped the high beams, and gunned the engine. I mashed the gas in 3rd and threatened to walk all over him…..90….100….110. He couldn’t get away from me. He waved for me to pass. Honda-Tard meanwhile was WAAAYYYY in the back. The Acura kid was scared and beaten and he knew it. I pulled along side him, motioned for him to roll down his window, gave him the finger and screamed “F-you”! I dumped it, quickly accelerating to 130 MPH 'til they couldn’t see my taillights anymore.

Later that evening, as I told my girlfriend, she said “You’re a juvenile idiot. You could have killed those kids and you’re going to piss off the neighbors”! Then I heard two weed-eaters idle up very slowly to my house. I thought “Oh sh**, it’s a drive-by! These little peckers want to kill me”! A knock on my door. I answer it, ready to kick some fake gangsta *** if I have to.

They want to see my car now. “Do you have Nawz, Dog? Is it a Hemi”? Tards. Get lost.

Clown car is still on the road, but now “Hommie G” wants to learn about “da Ode Skoo”. If you see his car, put a sticker on it. He seems to like them, and thinks they make the car cooler. Then dust his *** once for good measure. You simply have to see this kid’s car to believe it. If your car looks retarded but has the performance to back it up….fine. But this pile looks like it was dropped off at the Special Ed shop class and built by retards. AND it’s not even quick.

In honor of Dale “Pimpdaddyhusla” Richardson, Class of 2006 (Hopefully) and his Civic, I dedicate this to you. Let me take you for a ride once you feel man enough. I see you stepped up to the plate and lost the big game. I’m willing to help you install the “Nawz” and the “V-TECs” and let you try again.

-------

Michael"

...just take one 1976 Toyota Corrola and add sheet metal and 3 tons of filler....


http://eleanor.portal5ive.com/

I don't know where the heck that car was made, looks south American or something, but I think it's all good. Listen, would I want a that car? Would I spend the zillion hours making it, hell no! But that dude is pretty damn talented and worked his ars off to make something that is not too bad looking. He customized something to look better "meaner" than it did originally. Now "better" is in the eyes of the beholder but that is how I see it.

The finished product looks pretty good, quality wise.

Brian

Look at the conditions this guy has built this car under! Geeeeez, he makes me feel like crap. I have a friggin TV and stereo and heaters with more tools than a full on body shop in his country has and I have to feel "just right" to get out there and get something done. Look at what this guy is working with!

Brian

This dude deserves a friggin trophy! I would send him one if I knew his address!

Each to their own.

Wasted effort, IMHO.

I think he deserves a lot of credit.

Brian

and they said you can't polish a turd.

That was my initial reaction, They tried, and they got it smoothed out, but it dont sparkle, I wonder what he could do with a nice starting point.

Shane

I guess that is what happens when you can't get a date. Or maybe you can't get a date with what has happened.

Brian

i don't dought that the neon was fast as hell... i mean iv never seen one do 9's but iv seen in the high 11's.. with that being said if your going to run rice you better have one hell of a pocket book.... me and my best bud tryed the rice seen when he brought home a Mitsubishi eclipses. he dumped a load of cash in that ride... tricked out the head... sage 2 turbo... was a quick little rid... as all rice burners i think it was in the garage as much as it was on the track... will say it was fast but ill stick to my old faithfull iron head V8's

Wealth fascinates me. Or, in some cases good credit. But for different reasons, I admire the building of wealth and pity the destruction of credit.

Brian