I actually wrote a book that's for sale on Amazon about just this. You can find it at:
http://www.amazon.com/Bumbling-Mechanics-Guide-Automobiles-ebook/dp/B008DNJ106/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403030815&sr=8-1&keywords=the+bumbling+mechanicHere's a good one about being dumb:
Once upon a time, when I had absolutely no idea how to even do the simplest repair to an automobile (wait, do I now?), someone told me how to replace brake pads (yeah, I don’t know why either). Now, as I tell you this twisted tale of idiocy, keep in mind that most vehicle manufacturers recommend applying a small amount of grease, usually a silicon type, to the backs of the brake pads (the side that doesn’t come into contact with the rotors) to rid the brakes of any incidental squeaks or rattles.
I had determined through rigorous scientific analysis that I was definitely not an idiot, that my pickup truck needed front brake pads (don’t ask me how I "knew" this), and that I could handle changing them. I went to my local parts house, and decided after much deliberation that I, a professional driver, required the high performance brake pads that the store sold. So, I sprang for the extra $15 that would make my truck into a veritable racing machine, and returned to my house victorious.
After sweating and swearing, I called my next door neighbor who used to "work" at a shop (i.e., stand near cars, smoking cigarettes and talking), and he assisted me in the replacement of my brake pads (which in retrospect, did not need replacement at all). We test drove the truck around the block at a high velocity after the repair was complete, and to my chagrin, the brakes squeaked.
I returned in an absolute rage to the parts house, hollering faulty brake pads to anyone who cared to listen. The man at the counter looked at me like I had three heads, but exchanged the "high performance" brake pads with normal ones, telling me with a smirk that "the high performance ones sometimes squeak". I raced home happily to install them, and of course they squeaked on my overzealous test drive after I installed them.
I kind of went berserk, throwing things in my little garage against the wall, screaming and carrying on like a teething baby. Then I roared back to the parts house again, bloodthirsty revenge fresh on my mind.
The kind folks at the parts house put up with my whining, and then they let me in on the secret remedy to brake squeak- brake grease. They told me to simply apply the grease to the brakes, and all squeaks would be gone. Feeling like a moron (and rightly so), but overjoyed nonetheless, I returned home as quick as I could,
Like a soldier at the end of war, I victoriously spread the greasy fruit of my parts house spoils all over every part of the braking system- rotors, pads, everything. I then climbed aboard my trusty steed to hear the sweet silence of my newly greased braking system.
The first couple presses of the pedal gave me my glorious silence, but I couldn’t stop until I had sailed like a runaway yacht in a crowded harbor through an intersection and all the grease had burned off of the friction surfaces of the brakes. The following presses had the brakes squeaking like a mouse in a toaster, and I was red faced and yelling like a chimpanzee with a sore banana hand. Needless to say, my brake job days were over for a while.
I recounted this story years later while greasing the backs of some brake pads in the company of some older mechanics. They deemed me to be the stupidest bastard they had ever met, that is, once they were finished laughing
It took a while to live that down, and I endured much taunting because of it and various other silly mistakes (which I shall regale you with later on). Guess that was about the time that moustaches and chest hair began mysteriously appearing on those guys’ nudie calendars. Oh, well.
