BA_Turbs

My car is coming up to its 45K service (currently on 41.5K) and the handbrake has again lost all tension. This happened before the 15K and 30K services. Its all good and well to make an engine that can survive 50% longer without a service, but make sure the rest of the car is up to it! Pulling the hand brake on as high as it will go no longer holds the vehicle on even a slight slope. Not possible to do a handbrake start at all (not that they are a big consideration). There are no action using the handbrake either. I do not crank the thing on to its limit every time I use it. Does anyone else find this? Also, the "shhh shhh" noise annoys me.

Sheeeeet! That is a fair effort! iTec, in answer to your sig, yes I have. Only about an hour ago. Probably do so again within the next hour too.

Holden's Official Press Release: " "

To think, I could have saved my self thousands and still had that turbo experience! All NA owners need one of these

Did anyone here ever play Street Rod and Street Rod II? Those were fun games... I believe early to mid 90's they were around on PC... <{POST_SNAPBACK}> Yeah, cracker games both of them! Had them both (along with Jones in the Fast Lane) on my old computer before it spontaniously combusted.

"Please mash the keypad for a special dialing/entering VIN wand"

Well, I know some people who like the look of Boeing 747's and cant afford to buy or insure a Boeing 747, so put a Boing-like wing on the back of their Honda Civic. Sorry, but that's not cool! An example is attached for your reference. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> Hey Mick, That's one pimped out shopping trolley you've found there! I mean, with a handle like that, it has to be a shopping trolley doesn't it? A pram perhaps?

Sorry this is a long post, but I am a bit of a history buff so I thought I would post the story of how St Patrick drove all of the snakes from Ireland. Obviously very relevant today. St Patrick was born Patrick James Thomas O'Rielly in the small land locked Irish village of Newtownmountkennedy on the 2nd of June, 1687. Patrick's father James "Silly Git" O'Rielly was a rather unsuccessful fisherman. This was mainly due to the only large body of liquid in Newtownmountkennedy being a peat bog. Patrick's mother, Eunice Louise (it had to be didn't it?) Van Oooootenooonberg-O'Rielly was an active and particularly violent explosives expert in Ireland's oldest and most successful men’s hockey team, the IRA. Eunice was part Irish, part Afrikaner and part Daschund and was later in life to play a significant role in the transformation of the IRA from a sporting club into a paramilitary revolutionary political group that would change the face of the way the world viewed the Northern Irish conflict forever. Eunice was also known throughout Newtownmountkennedy as making the best smoked kippers and mushy peas. Between Eunice's busy sporting schedule and guerilla warfare activities and James' constant battle with a large goiter on his neck they managed to raise a well balanced child who's perfect 50:50 weight distribution was to set the standard for vehicle manufacturers into the 1750s. By age 11 Patrick had established himself at excelling at mediocracy. Anything Patrick attempted he was bound to complete, but only with the bare minimum of effort. It was as a result of this that Patrick's teacher, Mr Reginald Titmouse, a member of the English gentry, told Patrick that he was not wanted or welcome any longer at Newtownmountkennedy's only hair-dressing college any longer. Titmouse, being at the top of his vocation and therefore a master of non-verbal communication was able to tell Patrick to leave with a swift and well placed kick to the left buttock. With a mother who was wanted by every Irish authority from the Royal Irish Scout & Guides Association (pledging to buy cookies then reneging at delivery time) to the Guardia and a father who was convinced that there were more than two other planets in the solar system, Patrick was without a career and without a family to support him, Patrick hit rock bottom. James wanted to support Patrick, but after a simple misunderstanding that lead to his fishing boat being lost in the moors, he no longer had a source of income (NB: If you are a fisherman that works in a swamp and your boat strikes a leak, when someone suggest "filling it with bog", what they mean is Sally's No-More-Gaps, not mud). So it was with a heavy heart, and even heavier nappy that Patrick signed up for the armed forces. The Army was never something that Patrick had considered in the past. What if he was on patrol and he came across Eunice whilst she was actively seeking to blow up Irish parliament? What would he do? Fortunately Eunice had gone to ground ad not been sighted for a number months so into the Army he went! Patrick was really thrilled to be able to excel at mediocrity in an entirely different environment. Patrick never had the shiniest armour, nor was it the drabbest. He never had the sharpest sword, nor was it ever as blunt as his wit. Patrick enjoyed army life, and enjoyed even more his growing celebrity status. As it turns out, Patrick had a talent. It was rather a special talent. Instead of having to get up in the morning and play the "Stirring Reverie" on his bugle to wake up camp, Patrick was able to play it on what his CO, Rear Admiral Alfred Kitchener Pollywaffle called his "Backdoor Bugle". It wasn't long before the morning wake-up had been renamed the "Rear-end Reverie". Patrick was a hit. He was given an honourable discharge, perhaps in return for all of the (gaseous) discharges he had given them over the years. So with a can of Glen 20 and a small coastal barge full to the gunwales with sauerkraut, Patrick was off to tour the music halls of Europe. Patrick's return to Ireland 11 months later saw a very different person from the one who had left. Patrick as gaunt, unshaven, spoke with a noticeable stutter and had a pair of D-Cup breas*s. The latter being the result of a drunken visit to the shady and disreputable Prague breast augmentation district. It was the days before they used such modern materials as silicone and, in fact, even before they used wool or other natural fibres. So with a chest full of straw and wheat husks, Patrick returned to Newtownmountkennedy. When he arrived home and spoke to his father he learned that Eunice had last been seen by British authorities attempting to audition for the sci-fi epic in the making "To Australia by boat - The First Fleet 1788". Patrick picked up a copy of the Dublin Times and read the headline: "HARMLESS, NON-POISONOUS SNAKE POPULATION EXPLODES CAUSING WOMEN TO SCREAM LOUDLY AND ANNOYINGLY - WHAT CAN BE DONE?" Patrick asked James if his mother had something to do with the seemingly unwarranted detonation of snakes. After James explained what was meant by a population explosion, Patrick had a revelation. He knew what his calling in life was. He was going to rid Ireland of these harmless, non-poisonous snakes. And he knew just how to do it. Patrick remembered back to his first year at Hairdressing college when Mr Titmouse had been teaching them how to milk a snake for its venom. Mr Titmouse had said that snakes can't hear, they feel vibration through the ground. He had also explained that a snake in the wild is most likely to slither away from the source of the vibration rather than confronting it. "DAD!! I need you to call in some favours from your friends at the Chilli Con Carne and Sauerkraut factory. I'm going to solve this snake problem once and for all" Within days the horses and carts loaded to overflowing with chilli and sauerkraut we creating a steady horse drawn stream of methane producing foodstuffs to the O'Rielly's front door. After 12 days and 13 tonnes of Grade A chilli and Category Alpha sauerkraut, Patrick was ready. He went outside and sat down peacefully on the front lawn. Over the last three days a steadily growing team of local farmers had been tying long lengths of sturdy rope and bale around Patrick's middle to prevent an early venting. The cheering crowd looked on at Patrick as he sat down, the town mayor approached and slipped a small loop at the end of a very long rope over Patrick's index finger. The assembled crowd then all took up positions on the rope, and as the Mayor signaled everyone to pull, they did so. Nothing happened. For about 1.5 seconds. The crowd was pushed backwards at over the speed of light. They moved so fast that it actually reversed the aging process and some 90 year olds were now 70 again. The ground shook. And shook. And shook. Then, snakes. Thousands of them. Snakes from under every rock, from in every tree and from behind every stationary draught horse. Snakes everywhere, all slithering as fast as their scales would allow them to slither TOWARDS the coast. The snakes hit the coast en mass and slithered straight into the water. It was a sight to behold. Back in Newtownmountkennedy, the sounds of Justin Timberlake could be heard radiating out over the general celebrations and cheering. "Hello?" Said Patrick as he answered his phone, silencing Justin. "Hello, Patrick, its the Pope Alfred Pollywaffle here. Seems the Backdoor Bugle has come through for you again old chap. Just wanted to let you know that from now on you'll be known as SAINT Patrick. Cheerio Old Chap, enjoy it". Patrick was so happy he cried, that and it was a very still day and the snake repulsing fart had not cleared yet. And at that moment a tall, attractive blonde woman with amazing blue eyes and a wet black nose appeared. She was holding a finger above her top lip giving the appearance of a moustache. "MUM!" yelled Patrick "Dad, Mum's here!" And with that the O'Rielly clan forgot their past differences and the fact Patrick had just flattened their 300 year old mud brick cottage, once lived in by Michael Hutchince, with a massive bout of flatulence. They all celebrated by having a cigarette, and James "Silly Git" O'Rielly, despite the chorus of over 1,000 people all screaming "NO!", struck a match and eliminated the entire town of Newtownmountkennedy. And do you know what the date was? It was March 17th. The End. I'm off to drink green beer and get smashed on my 24th Birthday. Happy St Patrick's Day everyone. PS Despite being born on St Paddy Day, I maintain the Guinness tastes like

I landed a job this week... I am now working on helping produce custom automobiles for a shop called Mobile Innovations here in NJ. Website is abit old. Should be updated in a month or so. We are moving to a bigger shop. <{POST_SNAPBACK}> Hey EatV8, Is this typical or atypical of typical exterior mods? Exterior Mods Also: - Is it model specific or universal? - If universal, what is frieght to get it to Melbourne from NJ? - Does she require much maintainence? Thanks!

Very very funny.

Still is Our habib friend has been given a 2 week holiday by another mod, and I've cleaned this thread up. Please keep posting 27 posts deleted by the way <{POST_SNAPBACK}> Good work by the mods!

Just transfered $5- over for you Lumpy. Now as per PM, its agreed that'll I'll win right?

My bike. I used to ride it a fair bit, but not so much anymore, clothes get too hairy and smelly. My Bike

If it gets off the ground, PM me and I'll take 3 tickets.

Was a good thread though.

You can transmit on any frequency in the iPod if you leave all the stations in there. I have found that as I drive out to Gippsland other stations work better. Around Melbourne I use 91.5. The only problem with the iTrip is the inabilty to use shuffle play, it just changes the frequency. The Belkin unit is massive and not as "integrated" with the design of the iPod, but at lease you can shuffle play with it. George, if you've got an iPod and no aux input in the car, an FM transmitter is the best thing around iTrip Webpage

The silent majority speaks. Its very refreshing to hear it. Everyone should be writing to the newspaper and thier local memeber of parliment to get things changed. We do our job and the court does nothing. What's the point? The amusing ones are the "sh*tmen" (as they are aptly dubbed) getting on the TV and yelling sh*t like "every dog has its day" & "Youz won't know what hit you". OK, bring it on. There's 10,000 of us. We might not win any battle, but we'll sure as hell win the war. What these tools don't think far enough ahead about is next time they're in the cells, I AM GOD. They have one of us "dogs" deciding everything they can and can't do and preparing their food. This is relevant becasue 8 of the rioters have been remanded. Tee hee... Try throwing a petrol bomb or mouthing off now its not 150 police V 1000 citizens. As far as two adults under criminal law dying in a car crash that was outrunning the police... Well.... I do not wish death on anyone, but these two idiots found it themselves. Don't let the door to hell hit you on the arse on the way in. I deal with idiots like this all the time. The police station where I work is known throughout VicPol as harbouring many, many people like that, and the rumours are true. They live by law of the jungle. Its pathetic and so are they. I better stop now or the post will end up being another 15 paragraphs long. The common sense outlook of the members on the forum is great compared to the media run by civil libitarians and running their own agenda.

Not saying that, fight it to your heart's content! I'm not saying we're always right either TMU stands for Traffic Management Unit, Formerly TOG (traffic Operations Group). Vic equal to HWP.

Say what you like. If you pass the attitude test, you won't get a ticket from me. I am a general duties policeman, not a Traffic policeman. TMU guys, doesn't matter what you do, you will get a ticket. Your attitude depends on how many you get. However, to be pulled over by a general duties policeman, you must have done something becasue we are generally too busy to be doing any traffic related work. As for as admitting the offence, etc, doesn't matter. If the only evidence I have is your admission, then it would collapse at court and would never go that far in the first place. There are instances after minor collisions where if stupid drivers had actually given their side of the story during interview it could have been written off and no one gets in strife. Rip out the old "no comment", uh oh! By doing this it basically means I have to charge you! If I've got enough evidence to be interviewing you for a traffic offence, I don't need your admission. I am also an extremely reasonable person when working. Take this advice or leave, no, it will not always work in your favour. Also, I could record everything you say like some people do with a little micro casette in my breast pocket, I could also video all traffic intercepts, but I don't, and even if I was going to I would give people the courtesy of telling them I was doing that. Making sure you know the policeman's name is an excellent idea. The police station I work at has around 150 police in all different areas working in it, people ring up and ask "I was pulled over 2 weeks ago, I want to speak to the policeman". Sorry, unless you got a name, tough luck! There's no need to obtain any further details than that. We sign out all of the police cars, if its going to court and you want to know which police car your speed was detected with, those records are subpoenaed to court anyway. Also, if you're playing a no comment game with me and then want to know what sort of car I'm in, the brand of laser etc, I'll play the no comment game too. I don't have to tell you! Your solicitor requests all that with a copy of the brief. And if you ask for a badge number, the usual response you'll get is "My badge doesn't have a number on it", 'cos it doesn't. Another police related americanism (notice "americanism is in lower case? I did that on purpose! ). I have a registered number that has nothing to do with anything and I'm not obliged to tell you. And in nearly four years I'm yet to write a single ticket for speeding. Too busy doing police work for like that. I am sorry if this comes acrss condescending, just having a quick re-read, its not how it is intended at all. Very happy to answer any other reasonable questions that might help people understand how things work from "the other side". The number of myths out there is ridiculous. BA_Turbs

So, errr..... What times were the manual turbos getting down the 1/4 again? Good job to the manual drivers for trying to keep some of those autos honest!

The luxury pack is if you have climate control. It then moves the functionsof the left LCD in your dash to the screen. ( I think)

It sounds like you have got premium sound. What you are looking at in the book is the Fairmont/Ghia/Luxury Pack with climate control. If your screen is a basic LCD (like a calculator!) Then you have been ripped off. If your screen boots up and impresses your friends by saying "Interior Command Centre" and show grey, blue white, black etc then you have the premium sound liek he promised you. You can hook up the DVD and sat nav to that.

Sorry to hear of your loss Scotty

I love all these people saying a manual is more drivaeable than an auto. if you can't drive an auto flat out, which is easy, what hope have you got in a manual with the additional factors of gear selection and clutch work? I drive a manual and could take it or leave it, doesn't really bother me either way. The important thing is that you enjoy your purchase! Good work!

I don't even go into the modifications section anymore. Too many threads were gettign nasty and shut down last time I looked. However, if that's what people wanna do...