Don't mess with Metallicar
So, Easter's over and there has to be about four pounds of candy in the house, the majority of which is my mum's, but still. Heh, she has nothing on Nicole, though - girl had a bag full of Easter egg candy that had to weigh almost seven pounds. And she shared it, too. Can't believe it's been so long since I saw her, she's gotten so big. And I remember holding her when she was christened, this tiny little baby who fell asleep the minute I took her.
I got into a car discussion yesterday with my dad, uncle and my little cousin, who knows a good deal about cars (and who's really not very little any longer, I tend to forget that). They actually wouldn't believe me when I said that Metallicar was an Impala. My own father claimed that she was a Ford Mustang, the others (who haven't actually seen the car) said that no one would think a Chevy Impala was a pretty car, but that it was big and ostentatious. And then they all said that the Impala was a typical 'raggaråk'.
Ostentatious?
Raggaråk?!
First thing I did this morning was getting picture proof, but it turned out that my father had done a bit of browsing himself last night and admitted that he was wrong.
That's right. You do not mess with the -67 Chevy Impala around me. I'll admit that the other years' models aren't as good looking, but oh, the -67... That's car porn at its finest.
And don't you forget it.
I sprained my ankle again. Wearing friggin' sneakers, just walking and minding my own business just about to go into Mondos. Maybe it's time to go and get it checked out, see if there's something to be done about it. There was talk of surgery on it a few years ago, but they decided against it in the end. But seriously, four or five sprains (I've actually lost count) since December... Something's gotta get done.
I got into a car discussion yesterday with my dad, uncle and my little cousin, who knows a good deal about cars (and who's really not very little any longer, I tend to forget that). They actually wouldn't believe me when I said that Metallicar was an Impala. My own father claimed that she was a Ford Mustang, the others (who haven't actually seen the car) said that no one would think a Chevy Impala was a pretty car, but that it was big and ostentatious. And then they all said that the Impala was a typical 'raggaråk'.
Ostentatious?
Raggaråk?!
First thing I did this morning was getting picture proof, but it turned out that my father had done a bit of browsing himself last night and admitted that he was wrong.
That's right. You do not mess with the -67 Chevy Impala around me. I'll admit that the other years' models aren't as good looking, but oh, the -67... That's car porn at its finest.
And don't you forget it.
I sprained my ankle again. Wearing friggin' sneakers, just walking and minding my own business just about to go into Mondos. Maybe it's time to go and get it checked out, see if there's something to be done about it. There was talk of surgery on it a few years ago, but they decided against it in the end. But seriously, four or five sprains (I've actually lost count) since December... Something's gotta get done.
2 comments:
I who know almost nothing about cars can't say much about this entry except giiirl, you best get you some Duct tape and wrap yo' ankles up so that shit stops happenin'. Ya heard?
I'm doing my best, I promise.
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