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all photos: Joel Didriksen

Make sure to pay the extra 30 bucks for AAA Premium. It comes with one free 200-mile tow. Who would use a 200-mile tow, you say? I would. To tow my demolition derby car down to Richmond.

The driver didn’t want to do it at first. Joel had to dig through his garbage to find the inspection sticker that was still on the windshield that we had just busted out of the car. He cut a little swath of windshield out and brought it to the driver who, out of the kindness of his heart (and a $100 bribe), decided that he wouldn’t charge us the $650 that AAA wanted to charge me since I didn’t ever get the car registered.

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I guess a bit of backdrop is due. If you haven’t already heard, after getting banned from the Montgomery County Fair for a year for trying to sneak in, Joel and Steve and Jason and I decided to return to MoCo Fair triumphantly with an entry in the Demolition Derby. I bought a 1978 Chevy Malibu from 4 nuns (the title actually was registered to Little Church of the Sacred Heart) for $300. We spent a few weeks doing all of the necessary welding and engine work and tearing out of about a million different components and having Mr. Kelly Towles, DC’s favorite graffiti artist, paint the thing to look like a pink-moustached luchador…

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Well, the car didn’t start in the 11th hour. Sometimes these things happen. So we decided to go back to the drawing board. And deeper into Demolition Derby country. Screw Montgomery County. If you’re going to run a Demo Derby, it might as well be in the deep South. I don’t think there was one car that I ran against that didn’t have a Confederate Flag on it. Weird.

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Usually, I would tell a bunch of great stories about everything that happened, but there’s really no need. The pictures do the work. In the end, I didn’t win. But I smashed the shit out of the car, so, mission accomplished. I woke up with a stiff neck the next morning, but in all honesty, I think it was from riding the Zipper. Which is actually what I imagine hell to be like. I hate the Zipper. Never again.
After waiting in line for an hour for the Zipper and for Joel to ride the Mechanical Bull, we went back to the car and Steve and Alissa and Joel had their way with it using all sorts of sledge hammers, electric Saws-all and good old-fashioned stomping up and down on the roof of the car. I would have lit the thing on fire if a cop weren’t stationed directly in front of it.

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Eventually we got tired of the destruction and drove back to D.C. where we dropped Steve and Alissa off and Erik, Joel and I drank a shot of Jameson and Joel lit off some fireworks.

Fantastic night. Until I ran out of gas on the way home. The first time I’ve run out of gas since I started driving when I was 16. Go figure.

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