Just had like, my third driving lesson ever. My first involved me hitting a parked car. My second involved me learning the gears on the old, rusty van I'm learning in. And the third involved me driving down the freeway at crazy speeds at night, and roaming the crowded suburban streets, avoiding the drunks. It was so exciting - I can actually really fucking drive now.
Driving means a) my old band can start up again, now that I can pick up the drumkit and guitars and organ and things from our various houses b) I can go on fun little jaunts down the coast to a mate's holiday house c) I can totally drive places! Dude!
So, that's exciting. I suspect a new car might be on the cards once I get my license. I'm a little bit excited.
Driving means a) my old band can start up again, now that I can pick up the drumkit and guitars and organ and things from our various houses b) I can go on fun little jaunts down the coast to a mate's holiday house c) I can totally drive places! Dude!
So, that's exciting. I suspect a new car might be on the cards once I get my license. I'm a little bit excited.
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There's part of me that wishes I'd just gone for it .. but I know I wouldn't wanna see her again. She works at my local shops and I pass where she works a lot ... It would just be weird.
In Australia I might be able to curb the violent urges. Beating Australians with their uggs would be like beating them for their accent.
I wear an oilskin and blunnies, but at least I work with horses in them
I have no excuse for hating them though, really.