A cracka wacka is a weed whacker that is missing a crucial component such as the carburetor but will supposedly work if the missing part is installed. Usually it's sale price is $11 but can be negotiated with scrap copper and other recyclables.
Johnny: Dude, where the hell did you get that piece of shit? It's missing the rip cord. Does it even run?
Dave: Don't be talking shit about my cracka wacka. I negotiated this fine piece of machinery at Sunnvale Trailer Park for a bent up shopping cart and some scrap romex. It will run once I install the rip cord.
A meaningless, unimpressive, self-serving introduction. An indicator that the story about to be shared will be pointless and dumb.
Back when I lived in upstate new york, I also had to park on the street - on two occasions, we got enough snow, mixed with just the right plowing, that my car was lifted off the ground from so much snow being jammed underneath it.
Sister: This meeting was to discuss the rough draft of my essay, where we discussed the subsidiary questions I added in my rough draft. We also discussed the relationship between my main title and the real-life situations I chose to use in my essay. We discussed the structure of my essay as well, specifically the Math AOK section and how it relates to the contradiction of the title. This second meeting was particularly helpful in discussing the implications of my essay claims and how to apply the title across various areas of knowledge. There were many sections of the essay that could have been cut down in wordiness and the ways of knowing required further and more in-depth analysis.
An absolutely foolproof way to keep minors from viewing content deemed "too mature" for them to watch.
Billy: "So I was trying to watch some videos for an M rated game, and I ran into an age gate, so I put in my real birthday. SOMEHOW it managed to figure out that I am 12. CURSE YOU AGE GATE!!!"
Bill: "Fucking age gate! *quick scroll* THERE! I was born on January 1, 1904. Fuck you age gate."