When I was 17 I repaired the wiring under the dash of my 69 chevelle with an extension cord. In my defense, I knew it was ghetto, but had no other option to get the car running that particular weekend and the girlfriend who lived 50 miles away was all reved up and needing some attention, what else could I do ? I certainly couldn't let the poor girl go without right? I fixed it right about a month later after stupid little electrical issues kept happening and eventually ended up with a grey cloud of toxic smoke emanating from under the dash.
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