So let me get this straight,, you're passing a truck and gaining maybe 3 mph on the truck you're passing and can't get around, the guy your passing is supposed to let off and let you get bye?
The PROFESSIONAL thing to do is make sure you have enough truck to do the job before you even START.
I can't tell you the times when some J/O has tried to box me in with a 3 mile "pass".

Fredog, excellent, funny post, kudos.

 

I had one in mind, but I can't remember what it was.
Maybe that helps me look like a pro.

 

There has been no mention of pee bombing!! And you people call yourselves "professional drivers"??

NOT!!

:hellno: :hellno:

 

Make sure you have a CB that is equipped with an echo box and a Roger beep. Turn the echo up so that your transmissions become so garbled that no one can understand you. Then, turn your Roger beep switch in so that everyone listening will know that you just transmitted a message that was so garbled from the echo box that no one listening could understand you.

"RadioRay" would be and excellent person to consult on this matter.

 

Finally, someone ELSE who sees something wrong with this post! Sorry, Fredog... don't know why you didn't "get" my post and objection to what Kevin said. I was going to let it go. But, you see.... it's a "physics" thing!

Allan5oh said his truck was heavy and gained speed FAST on the downhill side. He also apparently has enough power to reach the top of the hill just a scant 1 mph or so less than the "lighter, faster truck" Kevin speaks of.

Maybe, I don't always convey what I'm thinking, but let me explain. Kevin's "lighter, faster truck" is probably GOVERNED at 65 mph or less. With NO WEIGHT in the box, it has no inertia to help it override the governor on the downhill side. So, even going DOWN the hill, it doesn't have the weight to exceed it's governed speed of 65 mph or less.

Allan's truck, on the other hand is heavy and perhaps ungoverned (or governed HIGHER than your average Swift or Knight truck!) So, he slows down a bit just before the apex of the hill, and then is poised to roll at 70mph or more on the downside. Kevin, in his Swift truck, just BARELY has enough speed to pass him just before the crest of the hill. He is dragging a mile long line of 4wheelers behind him because he insists on taking the fast lane and passing this heavy truck by ONE MPH!

At the top of the hill, Kevin/Swiftie pulls over in front of Allan and cannot go downhill more than 65 mph... forcing Allan to stand on the brakes WITH the full jakes to keep from running into the back of him.....OR....

Allan picks up speed and Kevin has to fall back in line behind him and let the 4wheelers go by.

Kevin asks why Allan can't just "pass him by on the downhill?" BECAUSE he is BOXED IN by a mile long line of 4wheelers that have stacked up behind KEVIN while he STRUGGLED to pass Allan on the uphill side! :hellno:

JUST because a truck is "faster" at the top of a long uphill climb, doesn't mean it is the FASTER truck. And "lighter" is NOT a bonus except for the governed truck who can climb the hill faster because he's only hauling toilet paper.

Maybe YOU only drive on flatland roads, but I drive mountains or rolling hills every day, and it sounds like Allan5oh does, too. A REAL PRO knows how the physics of weight and governed speed affect his ability to make TIME through such conditions. KEVIN, and most other "poseurs" see only what is happening at the instant they are in.

"I'm FASTER right now, so HE should back off and let me in front of him because I reached the top of the hill FIRST!" :hellno::eek2:

I know I've left the comedic trend of this thread, but a REAL PRO knows how the weight in his box, combined with the governor of his engine, affects his ability to CO-EXIST with other truckers out there who have a JOB to do!

I drive with my eyes in my mirrors, constantly assessing the abilities of the TRUCKS behind me (and even the 4wheelers.) If I think he is going to "block me," I may block him first. But, if I know that HE is the stronger truck, and "I" am the one holding him up.... I move over, slow down a bit, or even block traffic for him at times to make HIS life easier. THAT is what a PRO does! [BTW, my truck does 70.]

ANYONE and EVERYONE who drives a truck that is governed BELOW the speed limit for the road he is on, should consider the driver who ISN'T!! If you let him by, YOU will make better time in the long run. NOTHING pizzes a driver off more than to be passed by a 4wheeler OR a truck who thinks that 60 mph he was doing as he climbed that hill is the LIMIT of what he can do on the downhill side!

I know this thread was supposed to be humorous... and I enjoyed the heck out of it. But, I responded to Kevin's earlier post because HE didn't "get it" about real truckdriving. HE (with his rookie cap still fresh from the store,) berated a professional driver who he should have been LEARNING from.

A "lighter, faster truck" my friggin AZZ!! The WORST thing on the road is a driver hauling dispatcher brains in a 62 mph governed truck!! Can't go faster than you except on an uphill grade, while dragging a mile of 4wheelers behind him because THEY can go faster. And THEN, he wants to pull over in front of you on the downhill side and BOX YOU IN behind him, while 30 cars or more go by! :hellno:

Any more questions? :hellno::banghead:

 

You don't mind if I repost this do you?


RestRoom Cell Phone

All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, Trailer tire flat, incompetent dockworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with 24 oz. mug of coffee, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was planning for a Truck Stop to park for the day, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. As I was cruising down the Interstate, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the nearest Rest Stop.

I surveyed the five stalls, which were numbered 1 through 5;

1.Occupied
2.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
3.Poo on seat.
4.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
5.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #2.

I trudged back, lined up with the door and backed in, dropped drawers, chocked my heels and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful ****ter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter about the ****ty day he had.
I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.

Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
------
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.

It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
------
Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.

After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I haven’t punished a toilet this severely in weeks. My God it was a Guinness Book Grade Rembrandt. This was definitely a 3 or 4 flusher. That’s if it doesn’t over-flow…then you have to just escape and evade.

As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.

I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the restroom.

 

Ah yes.... I LOVE this time of year. A Christmas Classic for all time! :lol2::clap:

 

Thanks! :lol:
Ya know...if you woulda only said xmas,
I could have gone off into a religious tirade.

 

Sorry. Did some guy named "X" get borned on that day, too? Never heard of him. Christ (whether real or not) is the "reason for the season!" Taking Christ out of Christmas is like taking the VETERANS out of Veteran's Day!

I'm no "PC" idiot, Hoggie. I'm no LIBERAL, either. Just so's you KNOW. When you argue against Liberals, you aren't even debating ME!

If I stand FOR something, it doesn't mean I HAVE to stand AGAINST another. THAT kind of thinking would make me a Conservative! :lol2::lol2:

 

Do you know why cops like to set up radar at the bottom of steep hills?