Looking for 12-13 silver streak hood

Title says it all, mines busted to hell. Never go to one of those damn drive through zoo's. I will pay shipping if nobody near Houston Texas has one. I have no preference for hood scoop.

 

BUMP!!!

 

What happened too your hood at the zoo?

 

I'll tell you if you can get me a hood

 

Daily bump

 

BUMP

 

So are there no 12-13 silver streak micah hoods left in the world?

 

you can definitely buy one off ebay or some toyota parts websites. probably gonna run you around 350 unpainted.

 

I know I can get an unpainted one. If I had wanted to go that route I would have done it months ago. I want a factory painted hood, and I want it cheap.

 

I'm also looking to trade a black rear bumper for a silver or chrome one. I also have a chrome 2014 grille that I want to trade for a silver one.

 

maybe if you told the story you would have a silver hood by now?

 

Maybe if you gave me a silver hood, you would hear my story by now.

 

Okay smart ass. No hood for you

 

Don't tell me it involved feral cats and steel wool sweaters?

 

This soul crushing journey that we where now on the final leg of had been the product of my son's incessant nagging for weeks. He tore away at me for what seemed an eternity. The goal of his torment: to tear his father away from his responsibilities and take him to Disney world. Such a wholesome request, to be taken to the one place in the world that every child dreams of, and to enjoy the experience with his father. I fully understand him, its just that I'm at a time in my life when I can't be bothered by things that take time away from my work. With his mother in jail, I'm the only one providing for us.

I am only human, and within me there was a childish desire to escape the mountain of stress that had consumed me, and it was awoken by my son's request. Each time he asked, he poured gas on the flame burning inside me, until one day It was too much and I finally gave into his request. The memory of the disaster that had unfolded over the work day was consuming my consciousness. The emotional pain that I felt was accompanied by the recurring back pain that had become a staple of my existence. In the ritual drive home It never escaped me that I was a wreck. I turn the radio up in a fruitless attempt to drown out the noise of my mind. I depress the clutch, and shift into first. I do my best to wipe the emotion off of my face and make myself presentable to my son. I turn the key and hope out of the truck. The sun has long since cast its final warming rays over the sky. I head toward the front door to my house. I open the mail over the stained kitchen counter and struggle to make out the letters on the mail with the yellow light of an old lamp. Bills, bills, and more bills. What an appropriate way to punctuate what was another terrible day.

That's when I hear his clumsy footsteps down the hall. This excites a smile in face, and elicits for perhaps the first time the whole day genuine happiness. He runs up to me and grabs me around the ankle all the while screaming Daddy! I pat him on the head and he begins to explain the various activities that he participated in during school. His face is the picture of happiness, and as he talks my mind begins to wander, and it occurs to me that he is the most important thing in my life. I drift back into the moment when he repeats what has become his catchphrase "can we". I didn't have to listen to know what he wanted. For some reason tonight I couldn't effortlessly blurt out an excuse as to why now wasn't a good time to go to Disney land. Instead the negativity that had grown in me during the week reared itself, and I decided that I would make my son and myself happy for once. The trip was everything that I had hoped it would be, and my son couldn't have been happier.

On the return trip I was convinced that I had done exactly what my family needed. The problems began when my son read a sign for the local drive through zoo. Fun for the whole family It promised. My son, filled with genuine emotion after such a fun trip let out a barrage of questions regarding the zoo, concluding with "can we go?" Naturally, I wanted to separate myself from my worldly problems for as long as possible so I gave into is request. So, we go to the zoo. I take a right off of the freeway and drive for ten minutes down a road that's condition seems to worsen until the pavement stops and is replaced with gravel. Fortunately, the Tacoma's suspension is tall and is easily able to conquer this. After a few minutes of this, we become the end of a thirty minute line of cars in front of the only operational booth for the zoo. My son read the warning signs, Animals are dangerous, keep all windows closed. The obviousness of these amuses me.

Finally, we reach the booth and I cough up forty dollars that I cant afford to enter the zoo. The nightmare begins. From the beginning the apes walk alongside the truck, and in a short time they begin climbing onto the truck. One of them, obviously the leader climbs onto the windshield, with his junk hanging in clear view through the windshield, and begins to urinate on my truck. The soft mood that I had acquired from the peaceful trip melts away, and is replaced with anger. I turn the windshield wipers on spray the monkey. If only I had know what a foolish mistake that was. The monkey, clearly is not amused, he pulls the wipers up and begins biting and bending them. He then releases one of them with the wiper facing away, so that the metal strikes my glass. That was a poor decision on the monkey's part. I quickly lose my composure and slam on the brakes. My son, clearly startled looks at me. I tell him to stay calm.

I turn my attention to the monkey that is now recovering from having fallen to the ground several feet in front of my truck. The monkey stands, and I swear that for just a moment and looks straight into my eyes. Somehow I understand the message he is communicating: war. He lets out a savage roar, and his troop comes to his aid. In the following second my truck is surrounded by monkeys. My son is now filled with fear, and he hides his head in my shoulder, now I am truly pissed off. I rev my engine in the hopes that it will scare them off, but the monkeys are a driven creatures. One, then two, then all of them jump onto my truck. They beat on my truck and begin tearing off the fender flares and the gas cap and jump on my hood. All the while they let out their terrifying roars. My son is now hysterical, and my anger has turned into genuine fear. You never know how scary monkeys are until they are swarming your truck, savagely tearing off parts in an effort to get at YOU.

I say to hell with the rules and regulations, my life is in danger. I floor the truck and drive wildly off the course. The surface becomes highly irregular. The monkeys begin dropping like flies, now at 45 over rough terrain the shaking is unbearable and I slow down. There are only three left, but they have lost any shred of composure they had before I did that. The one on the hood beats the hood and bends the antenna. He has also managed to break my grille surround. I give the truck gas and sharply turn to the right to start a donut. The terrain is soft and my truck easily breaks lose. I turn hard left now and reverse my donut. I watch as the final monkey loses his grip on the front of my hood, where the glass meets. With the monkeys lost, I floor it to the entrance and I never look back.

 

As bad as I hate it for you, I'm now cleaning out the beer from my keyboard from laughing so goddamn hard.

I've got this ridiculous mental image of a monkey fruitlessly attempting to hang onto your hood at highway speeds...

 

After I divided this post up in to paragraphs, I was able to read it. Laughing my ass off at this story OP. Good luck on your search for a hood.

 

That's better. Get this man a new hood folks!

 

Op you have a black bumper or want a black bumper???

 

My bumps a black'n lookin for a silver'n.