is my car. its a 1967 Chevy Impala. yesterday it started acting up. after a little testing i figured it to be a bad fuel pump. today i went and bought a new fuel pump, fully intending to install it myself. i don't have the space or tools necessary to complete this task, but my mother does. she moved recently and i had never been there, so i asked for directions. the directions i got sounded like this "Go to the end the road here and take a left. drive for a while till you see a YMCA and a truck on the corner turn onto that road, i think its called founders. her house is right there." her house is actually about 30 minutes away, takes a few more turns that just the 2 i was told to take, and the road was actually called Fountain. needless to say it took me 2 hours to finally find the place. now because of the location of the fuel pump, i had to wait a couple of hours to start working on it, had to let it cool. so after a little bit of waiting and hanging around the house i went out to start messing with the car. it was bolted to the engine with 2 bolts and had a rubber hose and the metal fuel line attached to it. i got off everything just fine, except the fuel line. apparently the guy who owned it before i did mostly striped the bolt. so after 1 more hour, a lot of frustration and about 18 different tools, i gave up. now on the way to the house the car kept stalling, every time i came to a stop it would just cut out. once i finally reached my destination it died while pulling into the driveway. so since this stupid nut couldn't be removed, i had to have the car taken to a mechanic. it wont be fixed till friday, so until i can get it back i have to drive a 2000 convertable mustang... darn.
p.s. the was a lot of sarcasm in that last statement
p.s.s if you look in the upper left hand corner of that picture, you can see me.