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I pull over, look under the car, feel around to if anything is loose or stuck, get back in try to go again and the noise starts up, so I try to back down the onramp, but can't, so I my brother and a few other people who are mechaniy gifted to if they can help. My brother offers to come pick me up so I can him before he leaves while someone comes out to look at my car. So I start emptying my car of anything that would be perceived as valuable. My brother shows up with a carload of his friends with barely enough room for me and everything from my car, and we ride a very uncomfortable 20 to his house. Well, the party was awesome and everyone had a great time. The party ends and I get the that my car is being inspected, so I hitch a ride with my stepdad back to the car. And, this is where I feel like a total idiot!!! All I had to do to fix the car myself was to pull the stupid wheel off the car and take the rock that got wedged between the brake rotor and the rock guard out. I couldn't believe it was something so simple and small. I felt so stupid. They said if I had driven the car it would have cost me a brake rotor instead of my pride. So, I guess I'll take the trade. Anyway, I got home really late and discovered my grandpa's botched attempt at dinner and my aunt looking a little worse for the wear. She had fallen a few times, and, other than a sore butt, she was doing fine. The next day (Monday) my mom was finally off work, but hadn't slept in about 18 hours. She was exhausted, but we had to get my aunt to and from all of her pre-op appointments. So we spent all day doing that and invested in renting a little scooter thing that she can rest her knee on so she won't fall over anymore. I have to admit, that thing is fun!!!! So, that was my relaxing vacation to visit my family. My brother is in now, my aunt should be out of surgery by now, and my car is running great. Remind me to ask for more coffee next time I go down there. :) I everyone has had a great weekend. It take me a while to catch up! In the mean time, have a wonderful evening! filipina for sex SeguinMy mom was born in a small Kansas City suburb. They moved to Nebraska. They were often left alone without food. Mom (and her twin) joined a family with horny older boys who took turns with the new girls and their own sister. This happened until the boys moved out (probably from age 6-12ish). They bucked bails of hay and fed cattle before school from 4am-7am. The wire on the hay caused permanent damage to her knuckles. There are scars on the tops of mom and aunt's head from whatever grandma used to hit them for doing whatever. Mom's favorite story of (the one she told most often) is when she would get hit for ducking when her mother would come close. This was justified because if they ducked, they must've deserved to get hit. She left the home and moved across the state line to Kansas, quite early. There she met the who would smack her around and threaten their (my half-brother). Thankfully she left him. She married dad about six years later, where a combination of both their childhoods (probably) led to their divorce. Dad's story has far fewer details. He has an older sister (by about 18 years) who posed as his mother, because his parents were never there. Mom says she wrote a letter to his parents, trying to get a decent relationship, and the return letter said just "don't bother, we don't want to know him." So what generation had it easy? The vietnam, + died, thousands more injured and shell-shocked? Where blacks still didn't have equal rights? Maybe earlier when only white guys had rights? During WWII, the depression, or WWI? Maybe 70+ years ago, when the life expectancy wasn't much above 40. Then, you wouldn't have your parents to come crying back to, when something wasn't perfect. This post was heavily truncated, snipping out a lot of by parents suffered. don't fucking tell me how much better the previous generation was. dating africa
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