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What is this crap?

CTN

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Hello, first post on this forum. I had to change a tail light bulb in my VS Crummydore. I removed the bulb, and, "what the ****?", the light fitting was chock full of this yellow stuff that looks like peanut butter - it isn't glue - I thought it was one of those dumb things old farts do to their cars, so cleaned it out before fixing the replacement globe. I found soon after that even the plastic thingy where the wiring leads into was full of it too... anyway after cleaning that out I still had problems, so I went to get one from the wrecking yard, and there I found out that the others were all the same!

What is this stuff and why would the factory (maybe a disgruntled factory worker???) fill electrical parts with it?
 

Fu Manchu

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Hello, first post on this forum. I had to change a tail light bulb in my VS Crummydore. I removed the bulb, and, "what the ****?", the light fitting was chock full of this yellow stuff that looks like peanut butter - it isn't glue - I thought it was one of those dumb things old farts do to their cars, so cleaned it out before fixing the replacement globe. I found soon after that even the plastic thingy where the wiring leads into was full of it too... anyway after cleaning that out I still had problems, so I went to get one from the wrecking yard, and there I found out that the others were all the same!

What is this stuff and why would the factory (maybe a disgruntled factory worker???) fill electrical parts with it?
It’s dielectric grease. It’s used in electrical connections where moisture can be a problem. All manufacturers use it. It’s important.
Another place you might see it is in the engine loom harness plug on VE and VF.
 

CTN

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It’s dielectric grease. It’s used in electrical connections where moisture can be a problem. All manufacturers use it. It’s important.
Another place you might see it is in the engine loom harness plug on VE and VF.
Thanks, I suppose if that part was still any good I just sort of compromised it, unless I can refill the peanut butter/earwax again.
We were joking about finding out after cleaning it out that it was an essential part of the car.
 

CTN

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I would be interested in knowing examples of those dumb things. (Asking for a friend.)
First thing that comes to mind are kitchen cupboard handles fixed onto tailgates.
But I imagined this one being more like one of those dodgy things like "put this on your X to get better mileage/to make your car run better/to make your car go faster/whatever". I thought maybe it was to keep the bulb in place?
"Back in my day, us oldies knew peanut butter was great for everything! Now, they don't make peanut butter like they used to - we all used peanut butter! My grandfather *cough* used to put peanut butter on his wagon wheels to stop them squeaking, then my father used it to fix head gaskets on fords. I use it to fix light bulbs and all sorts! Young kids these days don't know anything about the wonders of peanut butter for automotive repair."
Or
"Back in my day, when I was a lad, if I was caught holding or eating peanut butter, it was 50 strikes from the cane! So I'd hide it in Dad's tail light fittings, and sneak out at night to eat it! *falls asleep for 5 seconds* Eventually, Dad caught me and gave me 846 beltings, but then he found out that peanut butter was a great lubricant for light globes, so now the whole family uses peanut butter in their cars!"
 
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CTN

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"i tell you kids, back in my day, we had it so rough... or so much better, i can't tell anymore. anyway, every day, we would wake up at 2 in the morning and go to the table for breakfast. we all lived in a closet, you see, so it was one room. and we would ask, me and my 64 brothers and 27 sisters, "what's for breakfast mum?". she would smack us all with a shoe and say "cold beans". and if we complained and said "but we had cold beans yesterday" - because we had cold beans every day - she would smack us all five times with a shoe and say "tough its all we can afford. i'm trying to feed a family of 93 with just half a silver buckington", a silver buckington was about the same as half a penny back in the day. then we would head to school. we met up with the johnson kids from down the road, and walked the 1674 miles to school. on the way to school, we had to walk up a mountain so tall it extended to outer space. when we got to the top of the mountain, we would see the peterson boys on their fancy bikes - which they dont make like they used to, and we would race them down the mountain. then, when we got to school at 4 in the morning, the headmaster would come up to us and say "you bloody kids are late", then he would smack us all with the cane 10 times and tell us we had 7 years of detention. then, we went to class, and mr stevenson would say "ok line up kids", then he would spank us each 60 times, then hit us each with the cane 40 times each. then it was 7 at night and we had to walk home. then, when we got home, we'd ask "whats for dinner mum?", and she'd smack us each 50 times with a pan and say "rotten cabage". and if we complained, she would smack us each 100 times with a broom and say "im trying to feed a family of 154 on just one islet sliver, just you wait until your dad gets home" - now an islet silver was worth about as much as a grain of sand. then, when our dad got home from his job at the soot factory, he would hit us all 180 times with his belt. if we had been naughty, we would hit us all another 600 times. then, at 1:58, mum would say "ok time for bed". then, we got into our potato sacks, and she would hit us each with a shoe 8 times before we went to sleep. on saturdays, we went down to uncle bob's farm to work. we would have to walk 345 miles to the bus stop, then catch the route 4 bus for 56 stops. we would get on the bus and pay our fare of 3 teddy roses - now a teddy rose is worth about the same as a flake of skin. then, if the ticket inspector came to us, he would hit us all 4 times with his baton. if any of us had lost our ticket, we would hit us all 10 times again and throw us off the bus and we had to walk the rest of the way. when we got to the farm, uncle bob would drive to the gate in his tractor, hit us all 780 times with his crowbar, and tell us to get in his trailer so he could drive us to the farm house. then, we had to plow the fields with a toothbrush in the blazing summer heat - now, they dont make summers like they used to, so it was about 1345.4 degrees spencer, or 67 degrees centigrade using your new-fangled metric system. then, we would have to milk the cows - now, they dont make cows like they used to, so each cow weighed about 459 hog's heads, or 3.2 tonnes in your new-fangled metric system. if you touched a cows udder, it would kick you and you would die, so you had to be really careful when you milked the cows. then, when we were done, uncle bob would say "ok kids time for your pocket money". he would give us each 9 copper jemimahs - which are worth about one political promise each - and beat us each 6 times with his tractor before we left. on sundays, we would meet the johnson boys and go down to the river - now, they don't make rivers like they used to, so this river was about as wide as the whole of australia, and as deep as the marianas trench, and it was filled with liquid tungsten. we would play by the old oak tree near the river, climbing on it and building tree houses and such. now - they don't make trees like they used to, so this tree had a trunk as thick as a city, and was tall enough that the branches on the top could scrape the moon. one day, little jimmy fell from the top of the tree. when he hit the ground, the only bit of his body we could recognise was his left eyeball. we picked up all his bits and rushed him to the doctors surgery. dr james said "oh its just a scratch little jimmy dont worry pop a plaster on it and you'll be right" and he gave little jimmy a plaster and a lollipop and he was ok. after we finished playing by the river, we would go into town and get some lollies. now, back in the day, you could give the shopkeeper one bronze winglet - which is worth about as much as a ciggarette butt - and he would give you the entire stock of the store. so we would go and get our lollies, and we'd go into the town square and eat it. now, we didn't have any of your fancy food laws back in the day, so there was all kinds of stuff in our lollies. bleach, lsd, ecstasy, you name it. so we would always get a little hyper after our candy. one day, when we were hyper, we went up the mr boris's car, the only car in the town, and touched it. as we touched it, we saw dad storming down the street holding his belt. "you kids, having fun while i work all day in the soot factory just so you can have grilled water for tea every night, i oughta smack you all". we were sure he was going to smack us, but then he said "no, i got a better idea, ill take you to see mr henderson, he'll set ya right". now, dad had told us about mr henderson. mr henderson was a veteran from the great war, where he got a really bad injury, but we never knew what it was. dad walked us all down to the pub, and we saw a left testicle propped up on a pegleg. "mr henderson," said dad, "i have some kids here who need a good whooping". then, mr henderson picked up the entire pub, and hit us each 4006 times with it. then, dad said "right, i gotta go back to the soot factory, you kids run on home now". now, by now it was 1pm, which meant it was curfew. while we were walking out of the town square, we heard a man shout "oi you bloody kids, its curfew". we turned around and saw the constable holding his baton. he hit us each 160265 times with his baton, then put us in gaol for 60123865 years. now - they don't make gaols like they used to - this one had 5 mile thick steel walls, and a single hole in the top let in some light. we were in there for about 13526 years, until mum baked the constable some cardboard pie so he would let us out. then, she hit us all 1292 times with a washboard, and grounded us for the rest of our lives. so don't you come complaining to me about nonsense like not being able to breathe or not being able to feel your legs."
 

figjam

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Makes me happy I didn't grow up in SA.
The fond memories of our childhood, :) flavoured with a sprinkle of exaggeration.
The worst I had to endure is having to walk 10 miles to school, uphill both ways, in the snow, wearing a sheep on each hand to keep my fingers from getting cold.
Oops ...... I forgot the ballet lessons I had to take. They were compulsory to avoid Death Adder snake ambushes.
 
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Fu Manchu

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Peanut butter! Peanut butter!!!!! That’s luxury that is. In my day we had hole in ground fill with mud. We’d use mud for everything. Worked in mud mine all day. Come ‘ome go t’ bed. Get up 2hrs before we went to bed and go back to work in mud mine.

Peanut butter. Luxury.
 
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