socom

Vektor? I bet there is a story there. My dog is named Ninja. My brother got to name him and decided to do so after his motorcycle. He's a sweetheart that will run with me (when I used to run-pre cast) and makes me feel safe out in the country when I misjudge how long the daylight will last. Last winter I didn't run all winter, because I was a big baby about it, you know I might fall and break my arm or something stupid like that, and when I started running again, he would run ahead of me, then sit and wait...talk about a motivator, to be outdone by a dog. I don't think so. But my real baby is my 1969 Plymouth Sport Sattelite...here's a pic, pre-injury:

I rebuilt it with my dad, two of the coolest years ever.

Yeah, I'm a Mopar girl...it's even on my voice mail for my cell. At first it was some thing just to bond with my dad, who is the coolest guy on the planet, but then I found I had a knack for it and loved it. I actually won a contest and they took me and my car out to Vegas for the nationwide show. It was pretty cool. Met that idiot Steve from the Springer show? He's a douche.

I went back and read your blog, I'm really sorry about what happened. What a shitty situation to find. I'm assuming from your associations on here (i.e. Jeff and Mark) that you're no stranger to unpleasant scenes, however, that is something that never leaves you. My best friend josie, who is josephene on here, is no stranger to that type of situation. Her brother did the same thing and it still affects her years later. She's known Mark and Jeff much longer than I have as they have both helped her through some tough situations through the years. Amazing the quality of people you can find on a porn site.

It's unfortunate that you're in a place where you find yourself surrounded by locals who are crazy. Ever think about relocating? I'm back and forth with that. There are some things that are wonderful and some things that are horrible about a small town. I figure life will take me where it wants, and as long as my car can get me there, I'm all good.

We're having a traditional dinner with for my best friend tonight because she's having surgery. We used to call these "hope you don't die in surgery dinners" however over the years, that joke has become less and less funny. Now we just get as drunk as possible and make her drive home. It's the least she can do for putting us through the worry tomorrow.

P.S. I hate math too.