Pah! Piker. I drove a 1967 chevy pickup, with 6 drunken/tripping guys at speeds over 100MPH for almost 20 miles, with the right rear tire blown out. It was a rough ride until the rubber came off the rim, then the 30' rooster tail of sparks was COOL! We were passing cars on the shoulder, and just hauling ass, Good Lord it is amazing that we are still alive.
This is no lie, either, I still can't believe we made it home, alive and with no cops chasing us. The next day, we followed the marks that the rim had left in the road(there was just a red hot skin of metal around the brake drum when we made it back to the house), that is how I know how far it was.
At one point, we were driving along the levee (we still had 4 tires) and some Cajun kids were flying thier kite. Someone in the back grabbed the string and we drug it for a couple of miles with about 4 truckloads of warthoges chasing us before the string caught a powerline and we outran the mob.
This is the most stupid, but overall pretty typical of my college years, the first 5, anyway.
