Well, after working on cars, trucks and boats for a few decades I have come to these conclusions:
To really f something up takes an engineering degree.
Rule one of engineering, if it makes sense, do it the other way.
Rule two of engineering, see rule one.
How do you make an engineer? Send a smart guy to school for years, put his brain in a blender, give him a piece of paper that tells him he's a genious.
When asked about the true condition of certain "restored" classic cars, I will often use this descriptor:
Well, its like a 5 dollar crack whore.
When describing why I go boating on rough days:
Happiness is hang time.
I would call you a phuctard but you wouldn't understand.
Were you born an azzhole or did you train to become one?
Chit doesn't happen, it stinks.
Have you always been a moron?
If it were already here, why would I be calling you asking when its coming?
Are you really as stupid as you appear to be?