ugh.... cracked ribs... they make it painful to lay down. to get up... to sleep in most positions. i dread having to pee in the middle of the night. i'm okay if i'm still for a while... laying in the right position, standing, or sitting. but when i get up and down it hurts.
i didn't realize it until a good forty five minutes or so after i pulled myself from my tipped truck. when i started coughing and i felt something pop. oh the pain...
my dodge was on it's side. i undid the belt, landed on my feet and looked for my phone on the passenger window, which was touching the ground. i found my glasses but not my phone. my glasses are toast. oh shit, i didn't even realize they lost them. on guy stopped to see if i was okay and i told him "yeah i'm just looking for my phone."
"you should get out of there, the engine's smoking" it's better not to take chances. i'm sure it was just the spilled anti-freeze and other assorted engine fluids that were burning up on the hot engine. the battery was ejected. so was the hood ornament. a little metal ram's head. i wanted to keep it but i couldn't find it.
i pushed the door open above my head and pulled myself out and over. i didn't notice my cracked ribs then. too much adrenaline. fight or flight. nothing to fight. time for flight. my knee hurt though....not anymore.
oh my truck... i loved it... the first car that i bought that wasn't a total piece of shit. it wasn't perfect, but it ran well. something went wrong. something made the steering go bonkers after i pulled off the rumblestrips on the side of the highway. the driving conditions were perfect, but i lost control like i was on ice. zig zagging across the highway until i hit the rail in the middle, and the truck turned over on its side. it all happened in a matter of seconds.
the fucking cop gave me a ticket. fucking pig. letter of the law? my ass. i did nothing wrong.
i almost died last wednesday. my truck died so i didn't have to. almost dead. and almost only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades.
i didn't realize it until a good forty five minutes or so after i pulled myself from my tipped truck. when i started coughing and i felt something pop. oh the pain...
my dodge was on it's side. i undid the belt, landed on my feet and looked for my phone on the passenger window, which was touching the ground. i found my glasses but not my phone. my glasses are toast. oh shit, i didn't even realize they lost them. on guy stopped to see if i was okay and i told him "yeah i'm just looking for my phone."
"you should get out of there, the engine's smoking" it's better not to take chances. i'm sure it was just the spilled anti-freeze and other assorted engine fluids that were burning up on the hot engine. the battery was ejected. so was the hood ornament. a little metal ram's head. i wanted to keep it but i couldn't find it.
i pushed the door open above my head and pulled myself out and over. i didn't notice my cracked ribs then. too much adrenaline. fight or flight. nothing to fight. time for flight. my knee hurt though....not anymore.
oh my truck... i loved it... the first car that i bought that wasn't a total piece of shit. it wasn't perfect, but it ran well. something went wrong. something made the steering go bonkers after i pulled off the rumblestrips on the side of the highway. the driving conditions were perfect, but i lost control like i was on ice. zig zagging across the highway until i hit the rail in the middle, and the truck turned over on its side. it all happened in a matter of seconds.
the fucking cop gave me a ticket. fucking pig. letter of the law? my ass. i did nothing wrong.
i almost died last wednesday. my truck died so i didn't have to. almost dead. and almost only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades.
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that's messed up that the cop gave you a ticket- bullshit I say.
the equipment I'm working on for you, will be done soon- sorry to keep you waiting. I'm using a cool technique for making the tongs- out of flat bar that's twisted at the hinge- you'll like it.