True story
Okay, time for me to confess to my fellow vetters.
Once upon a time I was changing the clutch in my wife's old 89 vette. I decided while I was at it to put in some new U joints and service the trans. Well, the drain plug on the ZF six was stuck in the trans. Try as I may, it finally just stripped the internal hex head out. So, I eneded up drilling, chiselling, etc. to carefully get the plug out without getting metal in the trans.
As you can see this was an unpleasant job. How in the world something so simple turns into a nightmare like this is beyond me. All I wanted to do is drain and fill the trans.
Wait, it gets worse...........
Okay, the day came to finally put it back on the ground. I had driven the front of the car up on ramps, then jacked the rear up extremely high and placed it on stands. This gave me plenty of room to roll around underneath it and fart with the stupid tranmsission and u joints.
I had taken the e-brake loose to rotate the rear axles to change the joints, and forgot to reset it. I thought it was set. Early on a Sunday morning (instead of going to church) I decided to go outside and fool with the car because Nikki was out of town. I put the jack on the rear rocker tab and one at a time raised it just enough to get the jack stand out. I was on the passenger side with the jack handle pointing more towards the front of the car because my garage door was closed and I was trying to keep quiet (early on a sunday morning). I pulled the passenger stand then lowered the jack. The front of the car was still on ramps.
Well, when the back tires hit the concrete it took a little bounce that was enough to start it rolling off the stands. I remember grabbing the hood and right front fender opening, but I could not stop it. That red torpeodo shot off the ramp and THROUGH the garage door coming to a stop within about 1" of my other Vette that was sitting in the driveway.
I pushed the ramps out of the way, got in the car, drove it back through the hole into the garage, then stepped through the open gaping hole in the garage door only to find my neighbor sitting on the tailgate of his S-10 Blazer smoking a cig and laughing his butt off. A few hours later the entire door collapsed from the structural damage.
So, when Nikki and her mom pulled into the driveway there I was with a broom and dust pan cleaning up the last remaining parts of the door.
True story. So, you can see why I hate to jack these things up.