Coach72

B-1b Lancer

Many of these types can easily be identified when they're young - very young - and yet the school systems continue to coddle and sha sha them with minimal to no consequences.

I'm around a TON of kids with hyphens and commas to tha top in their names - shockingly, they're not on track to work for NASA one day.

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Signs you are getting old

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When you become invisible to college age girls.

The blizzard caught me halfway through the Arkansas mountains, turning the highway into a snow globe someone was shaking out of spite. The wipers were working overtime, George Jones was singing about heartbreak like he’d personally ordered up the weather, and every road sign looked more like a suggestion than a rule. I spotted an empty Coors Light can frozen into a snowbank - Arkansas roadside archaeology - and took it as a warning and a blessing at the same time. If nothing else, I figured, at least I’d die listening to good music.

Needing to piss, I pulled into a gas station that doubled as a bait shop and possibly a taxidermy museum. Inside were a few rednecks calmly acting like blizzards were a mild inconvenience, each with a lip full of Skoal and opinions about how the government controls the weather. One guy told me, with complete sincerity, that snow tires were “for people who don’t trust the Lord.” I nodded respectfully, because arguing theology with a man holding beef jerky like a weapon felt unwise.

Back on the road, blue lights lit up the snow behind me, and my soul briefly left my body. An Arkansas State Trooper emerged from the storm, hat dusted white, looking like the Final Boss of Winter Driving. He asked if I was okay, glanced at the dashboard, and said, “They sure don't make music like that anymore”, as we discovered that The Possum did indeed stop loving her today. After confirming I was sober, sane, and only mildly terrified, he sent me on my way with a reminder that the mountain “don’t care how good your tires think they are.”

A few hours later, I stopped at a truck stop glowing like a beacon of questionable life choices. That’s where I encountered a large-breasted lot lizard awkwardly descending from a Peterbilt. The Malboro dangling from the corner of her mouth almost took my gaze from the smudge of jizz trickling down the side of her cheek. She was completely unfazed by the blizzard (as it obviously hadn't affected business) and dressed like weather was optional. She winked, wished me luck, and called me “hon,” - and somehow that felt more reassuring than anything the trooper had said. I drove off into the snow while George Jones sang about choices, convinced I’d just survived the most Arkansas experience a person can legally have.

That was terrifyingly awesome!

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Right to bear arms but if you do then 6 retarded high school dropouts will shoot you dead

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You're truly a fkn clown if you actually believe that. How about stop being non-compliant and combative?

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1990 325i

Damn, was hoping they'd mag dump on that entire vehicle. #FatigueIsReal