Here I am

Well you were all right about my girlfriend....

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X, if they fix it, maybe get a new sport grill, Ram Air type hood etc. Make it better than before. Maybe have them paint some of the body parts the same as the truck like the mirrors or door handles. That's how I got over my accident with one of my trucks. Good Luck, jerry
 
See Nick you learned a valuable lesson all in a short time, "If it's got teets or tires sooner or later it's gonna give you trouble":D
 
Originally posted by XcumminsX
... Maybe something ill regret forever...

Nick

No regrets. Ever. For if regrets nag at you, it means you are looking backward and are likely to run into something, or become totally lost.

There's no such thing as a failure; they're all just bad examples.

N
 
Originally posted by Fireman Dave

Go for the sister Nick!:D



I agree with Fireman... . Go for the sister! That would be sweet revenge... . then tell her how much better she is than her sister!
 
Nick,

Get the Ram air hood when the put your truck back together and convert it to a sport.



Forget about the girl, theres better out there.



Come to Muncie!



--Justin
 
Peg the sister and Don't talk to either of them or mom anymore. No sense in re-hashing old crap. Since your truck is down you can have an excuse not to be the "designated driver. " Go out and chase women like you are the only guy in town for a while- you will be all the wiser and have some awesome stories to tell. Good Luck.
 
Divorce letter

Dear Connie,



I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our

"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I

swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little

boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make

contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back

to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost

me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't

care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as

long as one of us does.



Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And

This is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie. " I look

for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not

you.

They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and

brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to

illustrate the depth of my desperation.



She was young, maybe 19, with one of those perfect bodies that only

youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean,

just a perfect body. Breasts like you wouldn't believe and an a$$ that just

wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being

xxxx by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important

in our lives. It's all so superficial.



What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well,

in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a

better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately

attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that

before.



I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd

tossed her about, I found myself

thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her

flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else.

Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then

it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch.

Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus,

Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just

reminds me of you.



Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn

Lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna.

She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I

didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story.



Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know,

we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster

in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman

does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether

the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting

mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and

we xxxx. And it's totally hot,

but it makes me sad, too. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't

Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for

what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy. "



Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order.

I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on

her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful

time.

She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in

general.

She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So

we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier

times.

Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is

think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just

about makes me cry.



And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole xxxx thing, that

gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it

and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do

you see how even then, when I'm xxxx, all I can do is think of you? It's true, Connie. In your

heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe

out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.



If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.





Otherwise, can you let me know where the tv remote is?





Love, Dan.
 
like i say, the day a cute, young girl who doesn't cheat and isn't a gold-digger who drives her own modified diesel to a tdr meeting, i'm marrying... ... . :rolleyes: :rolleyes:



don't know if guys will ever understand girls, just try to put yourself in their shoes.



i've still got to learn myself, been in a bad relationship before. oh well, life sucks and then you die.



never lose your passions regardless of any others' influence.



Tom
 
I used to go over to a friends house and his parents would have parties and my paretns would be there, all kinds of people. Well this one guy use to bring his guitar and sing and he had a good looking wife, but he used to sing a song, "If you want to be happy marry an ugly women" His "EX"-wife used to get ******. Just thought it was funny and I'd pass it on.
 
Originally posted by 98rammer

like i say, the day a cute, young girl who doesn't cheat and isn't a gold-digger who drives her own modified diesel to a tdr meeting, i'm marrying... ... . :rolleyes: :rolleyes:




I almost have one of those, she's working on getting her own truck. She's currently the webmaster of www.socalrattlinrams.org, and likes going to events.



P. S. Go for the sister, at least it'll be gratifying. :D
 
Last edited:
Re: Divorce letter

Originally posted by Forrest

Dear Connie,



I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our

"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I

swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little

boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make

contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back

to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost

me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't

care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as

long as one of us does.



Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And

This is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie. " I look

for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not

you.

They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and

brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to

illustrate the depth of my desperation.



She was young, maybe 19, with one of those perfect bodies that only

youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean,

just a perfect body. Breasts like you wouldn't believe and an a$$ that just

wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being

xxxx by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important

in our lives. It's all so superficial.



What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well,

in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a

better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately

attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that

before.



I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd

tossed her about, I found myself

thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her

flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else.

Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then

it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch.

Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus,

Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just

reminds me of you.



Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn

Lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna.

She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I

didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story.



Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know,

we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster

in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman

does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether

the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting

mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and

we xxxx. And it's totally hot,

but it makes me sad, too. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't

Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for

what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy. "



Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order.

I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on

her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful

time.

She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in

general.

She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So

we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier

times.

Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is

think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just

about makes me cry.



And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole xxxx thing, that

gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it

and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do

you see how even then, when I'm xxxx, all I can do is think of you? It's true, Connie. In your

heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe

out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can.



If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.





Otherwise, can you let me know where the tv remote is?





Love, Dan.



Man I had to pick myself up off the floor after that one. That was one of the best jokes I've read in a while.
 
In a hundred years, no one will give a s***!



I wouldn't go near the mother, sister, cousin or even the granny... ... get away from that genetic pool and look into a better selection..... when you're ready!



Go play..... do your thing in life and the one that likes your kinda thing will be there... .
 
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