Builds 76 Fj40 Face Lift (4 Viewers)

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Chungas Revenge said:
@65swb45

Mark - I think I scored one of your last headers way back when. I was admiring it today while contemplating the Sniper install. Almost a shame to drill a hole in the collector for the O2 bung...

work of art- Take a bow. :cheers:
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The irony is that the meme just posted works for that too! I have finally made a deal to turn over the headers to a gentleman in TX who believes his company can produce them in house! :bounce:
 
65swb45 said:
The irony is that the meme just posted works for that too! I have finally made a deal to turn over the headers to a gentleman in TX who believes his company can produce them in house! :bounce:
Click to expand...

Clouds part, sun shines...High cotton right there.
 
Chungas Revenge said:
@65swb45

Mark - I think I scored one of your last headers way back when. I was admiring it today while contemplating the Sniper install. Almost a shame to drill a hole in the collector for the O2 bung...

work of art- Take a bow. :cheers:
Click to expand...
I am not sure what header I have however on my recent sniper install I had the same thought. Didn’t want to drill a hole into it. I mounted my O2 sensor just past where the header connects to the exhaust.
6B9D59D2-E0E4-4D45-A47C-9EFC999493FB.jpeg
 
Yah, I think we're gonna need a disclaimer here...
 
:rimshot:
 
Part II

I'm OK with the Man in Brown....

I stood frozen in place as the rustling sound from the closet stopped. A deafening quiet descended in the foyer as I pictured what must be taking place just a few feet from where I stood. An uneasy feeling crept up my spine, like a slow rotating icy corkscrew, it wormed its way into my cerebral cortex and I involuntarily shivered. Cautiously, I slipped my head around the corner of the door, careful not to expose my head in the event the Mrs were to "accidently" toss an unknow projectile in my general direction.

The afternoon sun was obscured by a thick charcoal colored blanket of storm clouds that was beginning to form over the house. Strangely, the rest of the neighborhood remained cloudless and sunny. Must be global warming. I made a mental note to send Al Gore an email. I could hear her breathing, a steady, deliberate rhythmic cadence, interrupted only by the occasional snort that erupted from her flaring nostrils. With deliberate and uneasy caution, groomed from years of matrimonial bliss, I stretched my neck out and peered around the edge of the door frame as a crescendo of thunder and lightning erupted just outside the window. The flickering lightning illuminated her pale emotionless face as her eyes stared forward unblinking and unfocused. I'd seen this look before. Once at Walmart, during the great toilet paper shortage of 2021, I watched the little woman turn a group of would be tissue hoarders into pillars of lifeless stone. Dear God, she was putting on the Medusa face. In panic, I raised my hand to shelter my eyes, like a T-rex honing in on sudden movement, her instincts barked to life. Coming back from some distant astral plain, the Mrs accepted her new found consciousness. Blinking twice over her red glowing eyes,
her reptilian brain honed in on my careless movement, a low baritone guttural sound made it‘s way from the bedroom and echoed into the garage.

Lurching forward, a glistening trickle of saliva dripping from her white, recently capped and perfect smile, she raised a hand exposing her overly manicured fingernails.

I was three feet from a certain maiming. Slowly, as not to incite a full blown kill response, I tried to conceal myself behind the door. No dice, she gave a bellow, exposed her incisors and came on full charge.

"Safe space pumkin, safee spacee, saffeeeeeee spaccccceeee, bad Pumkin, bad, sssssaaaaaffffeeeee ssssppppacccceeee!!!! I yelled trying to shock her out of the predator response. Safeeeeeeeee Spaceeeeeeeeeee!!!!

I cleared the entry door with the Mrs in hot pursuit. Forgoing my aging physique and diminished motor skills, I vainly attempted to jump the 3ft over the landing into the garage. Like a broken and disabled B-17 bomber, my landing gear malfunctioned and I caught the edge with my foot. I went crashing down into a recently opened bag of Monsanto's golden deer magnet. 40lbs of yellow, genetically modified kernels splashed over the garage floor. Limping and bruised, I tried to find my foothold amongst the organic ball bearings that now spread liquid like into the confines of the garage. Staggering like a sailor on shore leave, I wobbled and slid my way to the front of the Mule and pulled myself up headlight to eyeball. The Mule panicked and tried to self start. Failing to internally engage, panic spread and shot through his frame releasing a steady stream of red coolant from his tail pipe. "Really? really? Diamond plated warrior? Off road beast? Lord of the trail? Destroyer of Jeeps? 4x4 machine of the ages?

My only hope was to push the Mule out of the garage door, down the drive into on coming traffic and hope for a gracious settlement from my insurance agent. Mustering my last reserve of strength, I Grasp the stinger on the front bumper and push.. Nothing. I summoned my reserve strength and tried again. Nothing, he wasn't budging. Looking at the Mule in disbelief I mumble "So now your E brake is going to work?? Of all days its going to work you pick today. Seriously? now????, Ima' trade you for a Prious I threaten.

Then, without warning, the air sucked out of the room with a rush and exited through the open garage door. The theme song from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly wafts over the surround sound. Wahhhh, Wahhhh, Wahhh, Wahhhhhh.

The Mule pirouettes on his Coopers and tries to use me as a human shield. Well thank you buddy boy!!! Some way to say thank you!! After all those nights in the storage building, Fred grinding off Bed Liner, You know Fred lost his sense of taste over that don't you?? That's the last high octane fuel you'll ever get from me. I'm cancelling that order from Red Line and I hope your Birfs fall off you diamonded plated poor excuse for a land Cruiser", I mumble between clenched teeth , beads of sweat now breaking out on my forehead.

Wahhhh, Wahhhh, Wahhh, Wahhhhhh......

I heard the sound of her 6" leopard skin stiletto's reverberating on the brick landing. Tap...Tap...Tap. Tossing back her Buffalo hide poncho from Macey's, she exposed my 12ga side by side in one hand and a pair of 3" 00 Buck shells in her other hand. Keeping her serpentine eyes locked onto mine, she tosses in the shells ala John Wick into the waiting chambers.

"Ahhh, mmm, ahh, say Pumpkin, you promised not to "load up" in the house anymore. Remember what happened the last time?" I say pointing to the freshly painted ceiling.

Now if you want to shoot some clays or maybe do a little target practice today, we could, ahh, ah maybe, maybe we can scare up some crows. If you want something fresh for dinner we could shoot a few. You know how much you like busten' crows!? But, ahh Pumkin, you really don't need that shotgun" I say, an image of the little woman shattering orange clays at the skeet range flashes through my head. " I just bought a new sling shot I've been dying to try out. That will be more than adequate for rounding up tonight's main course"... "And a well..ahh, you really dont want to sha, shaa, shaaa shoot the Mule. Do you? " I mumble looking down the bright shinny twin bores of her Mule slayer.

Her anger was up and she was out for 40 weight.

Without response, she snaps up the double barrel with a casual flick of her wrist, locking it in with a resounding "click". Smiling, she thumbs off the safety and says.
"Ought'a the way little man".

"Now Pumkin, you got no rightful cause to shoot the mule. Its just a defenseless machine, Why there's narry a useful piece of metal in its body. Well, ifen' it warnt' for the diamond plate it wouldn't even have any useful metal at all...... And, and, it ah, it ahhh, well pumkin it actually started up yesterday", I blurt out trying to find at least one redeeming quality in the Mule.

"Last chance little man" she whispers, her finger taking up the slack on the double trigger.

Like Michaels horn on the last day, the driveway buzzer sounds and echoes throughout the garage. A brown clad archangel appears, and rounds the top of the driveway.

Sounding the Horn, "Herb", our regular UPS driver, slows the truck to a squealing stop. mesmerized, the little woman and I both turn and move toward the open garage door.

A few seconds later Herb, appears. Halllllley Looooyeeee...!

Laden with an armful of packages and smiling he greets us.

Herb. "Morning Jeff"
Me. "Morning Herb"
Herb. Morning Mist"
Mist. Morning Herb"
Me. "Hows the Mrs"
Herb. "Doing well"
Mist. "Saw her at the nail salon, you did really well Herb. She's a looker."
Herb Blushing. "Well, I married up".
Me. "Yes sir, she's a looker".
Mist. "What' cha got for me today"?
Herb. "Looks like some packages from Neman Marcus".
Mist. Ohhhh, goodie. Been waiting on that"
Me. (To myself. "That's a waste. Hell, I could buy a Mosley HI-PO engine for what she spends at NeedlessMARKup")
Mist. "You say something honey"?
Me. "Nope".
Mist . "Thanks Herb, tell your Mrs I said hello. We need to get you over for dinner sometime. You folks like Possum?

The little woman, cradling her gypsy treasures in one hand, dragging my new double barrel on the concrete floor , turns and makes her way back into the house.

Herb, making sure the coast is clear, gives me a Cheshire cat grin and a knowing nod, shoves a box of three genuine Toyota oil filters into my hand and turns to leave.

Stifling the urge to hug another grown man in uniform, I manage a croaking "thank you", as a small tear forms in the corner of my eye.

Herb, turning to leave, eyes the Mule curiously and says....

"Say, is that thing ever going to run again".????





Well.... all these things are true best I can recall...:rolleyes:
 
Last edited:
@sogncab
@65swb45

Well, there in lies the rub. Having lately joined the ranks of the shiftless and the indolent retired community, I’ve taken to fits of aimless meandering.
 
Figured I shouldn’t make a post until “after” the dopamine surge settled. I hit the “send it now” button on a Holley 2300 on Friday afternoon and was glued to the Home shopping Network for 36 straight hours. Powerful stuff..!

I didn’t purchase the full kit. My thinking may be somewhat flawed but, I want to explore my options on the internal tank vice the external fuel pump, as well as determining which particular “flavor” of pump would best suit the application.

Not wanting to waste a good dopamine event, I also picked up a few items from Red Line. I’ll post a few picks of the eye candy as it arrives.

Also looking at a new clutch kit sometime this spring. Anyone using anything other than OEM type kits? If so why and why is it better? I’m not doing any “serious off road” work. Mostly trails, logging roads and the occasional foray to the DQ.
 
Chungas Revenge said:
Also looking at a new clutch kit sometime this spring. Anyone using anything other than OEM type kits?
Click to expand...
I used the clutch kit that $OR had on sale on their website, I haven't had any issues therefore I can't say if it is good or bad!
 
Reading up in the trusty FSM: Regarding the "occasional forays to DQ" depending on the Mule's cargo carrying capacity and your gastronomical fortitude, for dip cones, chili cheese dogs, cherry lime aides and the like, you may need to explore heavy duty clutch options.
 
Jdc1 said:
Rock Auto has Aisin or hit the easy button and call Cruiser Outfitters.
Click to expand...


rkymtnflyfisher said:
I used the clutch kit that $OR had on sale on their website, I haven't had any issues therefore I can't say if it is good or bad!
Click to expand...


Sage advice....

If I’m going to pull the T-case/Trans I might as well do it in one fell swoop. I have some shop time lined up and the use of a four post. The Mules been weeping at the seams and it just seems fitting to make some overdue corrections. Trying to pull everything off in the ^^^ in the next 90 days (+/-).
 
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