Thats it- I'm too emotionally attatched...
Thats it- I'm too emotionally attatched...
Well, my truck had to go into the stealership on Sunday to get something done about a crankshaft sensor or some crap like that. Well Monday morning I felt like crap. Dad dropped me off from school, walking right past that empty parking spot. I felt depressed. I sat in 1st and 2nd block and didn't even touch my book. Didn't say a word. Lunch rolled around and I walked across the street to Little Caesars. Sucks cause I usually drive around. I even had to use my locker. I forgot the combination so it took my five minutes to figure it out. I usually put my books in the back of the truck. Well after class I was lugging my books around, no one to talk to, and no sexy truck to greet me after school. I started having suicidal thoughts. What if they washed her? Would sunspots appear? My heart began to race. My blood pressure skyrocketed and I started to sweat. I stayed the night at my friends house and rode to school in the morning with him. It sucked because all the Chevy guys immedidately notice an Alex but no Alex's truck so they start ragging on Ford. I was ready to kick some ****!! Well this afternoon after having a very lethargic day we ride back to his house and I take a nap in a grumpy mood. I was supposed to go into work but screw 'em. They can kill America without me. Alex is in a time of mourning right now. I wake up with a headache. I miss my truck. The sight of her sitting atop the graceful sea of underclassmen vehicles. The glistening of the freshly-waxed Oxford White paint in the Florida afternoon sun. Her distinct smell reaches up and throws my eyes wide open as the fragrance whips past my nostrils. I began to tear...
Seconds later, the phone rings. I answer in a grumpy mood. "Hello?" "Hi Mr. Melia, this is Sue Smith from Walts Live Oak Ford to let you know your vehicle is...." CLICK. I run outside and throw my friend his keys. We hop in and head down to the dealership. I felt it. Life slowly seeping its way into my immortalized body. We are within 2 miles. I see the giant Blue Oval proudly standing atop the sea of '08 Super Duties. We pull in right as my parents do. Timmy goes and looks at a fully-loaded '08 Mustang GT. I run into the service department where I see my dad writing a check and talking with the mechanic. My heart leaps. Blood starts pumping. I see the key behind the window as the lady assorts through her crap of daily work rituals. I notice on the work order form I see a big "DON'T WASH!!!" written in red ink. There may be hope yet for my White Knight. She reaches past my dad as they talk and hands me the small, yet powerful black key tied to a small keyring. I run outside, past some Crown Vics getting their fluids checked, and there, sitting in front of a row of recently-washed Fords, sits my glistening beauty of white paint and 6 cylinders of cast aluminum power. It is so beautiful I don't know if I can keep it in. I run to her. I nurture the untouched gracefulness of her recently-waxed paint. I open her door and sit. Uh oh. someone adjusted my seat. Took me a bit to find my "latch" I start her up and feel those vibrations going up my spine and into my brain like sunlight into a flower. I pull the brake, shift into first and ride off into the sunset with my smile on and a tank full of 87 octane happiness.
Just thought I'd share
-Alex
Seconds later, the phone rings. I answer in a grumpy mood. "Hello?" "Hi Mr. Melia, this is Sue Smith from Walts Live Oak Ford to let you know your vehicle is...." CLICK. I run outside and throw my friend his keys. We hop in and head down to the dealership. I felt it. Life slowly seeping its way into my immortalized body. We are within 2 miles. I see the giant Blue Oval proudly standing atop the sea of '08 Super Duties. We pull in right as my parents do. Timmy goes and looks at a fully-loaded '08 Mustang GT. I run into the service department where I see my dad writing a check and talking with the mechanic. My heart leaps. Blood starts pumping. I see the key behind the window as the lady assorts through her crap of daily work rituals. I notice on the work order form I see a big "DON'T WASH!!!" written in red ink. There may be hope yet for my White Knight. She reaches past my dad as they talk and hands me the small, yet powerful black key tied to a small keyring. I run outside, past some Crown Vics getting their fluids checked, and there, sitting in front of a row of recently-washed Fords, sits my glistening beauty of white paint and 6 cylinders of cast aluminum power. It is so beautiful I don't know if I can keep it in. I run to her. I nurture the untouched gracefulness of her recently-waxed paint. I open her door and sit. Uh oh. someone adjusted my seat. Took me a bit to find my "latch" I start her up and feel those vibrations going up my spine and into my brain like sunlight into a flower. I pull the brake, shift into first and ride off into the sunset with my smile on and a tank full of 87 octane happiness.
Just thought I'd share
-Alex
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Joined: Aug 2007
Posts: 2,234
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From: North of Dallas Tx
Raptor, Nice job and very well written. You put a lot of thought into your post. Its wonderful see a young man come into his own... I give the effort a rating of FABULOUS with a touch of 
two gay guys playing grabass!
two gay guys playing grabass!
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Joined: Jan 2006
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From: my apartment
you shoula killed yourself... reminds me of my brother... he's the only 20 year old I know that can wreck his expensive bmw that daddy paid for while drunk get out of a dui and complain about how long its taking to fix the 13 thousand dollars worth of damage
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From: Buffalo NY
Originally Posted by Raptor05121
Thats it- I'm too emotionally attatched...
Bad way to start a thread. there are no emotions and feelings here at F150ONLINE.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, my truck had to go into the stealership on Sunday to get something done about a crankshaft sensor or some crap like that. Well Monday morning I felt like crap. Dad dropped me off from school, walking right past that empty parking spot. I felt depressed.
Seems reasonable to miss the ability of driving to school and the perks that come with.
I sat in 1st and 2nd block and didn't even touch my book. Didn't say a word. Lunch rolled around and I walked across the street to Little Caesars. Sucks cause I usually drive around. I even had to use my locker. I forgot the combination so it took my five minutes to figure it out. I usually put my books in the back of the truck. Well after class I was lugging my books around, no one to talk to, and no sexy truck to greet me after school. I started having suicidal thoughts. What if they washed her?
So you thought about killing yourself due to the possibility of a Ford tech washing your vehicle? Which is WHITE.
Would sunspots appear? My heart began to race. My blood pressure skyrocketed and I started to sweat. I stayed the night at my friends house and rode to school in the morning with him. It sucked because all the Chevy guys immedidately notice an Alex but no Alex's truck so they start ragging on Ford. I was ready to kick some ****!!
It shouldnt take a 4.2L v6 f150 to go missing for some Chevy guys to make fun of a 4.2L v6 f150.
Well this afternoon after having a very lethargic day we ride back to his house and I take a nap in a grumpy mood. I was supposed to go into work but screw 'em. They can kill America without me.
Angry about not having your vehicle for one day. Makes sense to lose an entire days worth of $$...
Alex is in a time of mourning right now. I wake up with a headache. I miss my truck. The sight of her sitting atop the graceful sea of underclassmen vehicles.
Aren't you a Junior? There's freshmen and sophomores driving at your school?
The glistening of the freshly-waxed Oxford White paint in the Florida afternoon sun. Her distinct smell reaches up and throws my eyes wide open as the fragrance whips past my nostrils. I began to tear...
Gay.
Seconds later, the phone rings. I answer in a grumpy mood. "Hello?" "Hi Mr. Melia, this is Sue Smith from Walts Live Oak Ford to let you know your vehicle is...." CLICK. I run outside and throw my friend his keys. We hop in and head down to the dealership. I felt it. Life slowly seeping its way into my immortalized body. We are within 2 miles. I see the giant Blue Oval proudly standing atop the sea of '08 Super Duties.
That's not physically possible.
We pull in right as my parents do. Timmy goes and looks at a fully-loaded '08 Mustang GT. I run into the service department where I see my dad writing a check and talking with the mechanic. My heart leaps. Blood starts pumping. I see the key behind the window as the lady assorts through her crap of daily work rituals. I notice on the work order form I see a big "DON'T WASH!!!" written in red ink. There may be hope yet for my White Knight.
Gay.
She reaches past my dad as they talk and hands me the small, yet powerful black key tied to a small keyring. I run outside, past some Crown Vics getting their fluids checked, and there, sitting in front of a row of recently-washed Fords, sits my glistening beauty of white paint and 6 cylinders of cast aluminum power. It is so beautiful I don't know if I can keep it in.
Gay.
I run to her. I nurture the untouched gracefulness of her recently-waxed paint. I open her door and sit. Uh oh. someone adjusted my seat. Took me a bit to find my "latch" I start her up and feel those vibrations going up my spine and into my brain like sunlight into a flower. I pull the brake, shift into first and ride off into the sunset with my smile on and a tank full of 87 octane happiness.
Just thought I'd share
Well you thought wrong. Good luck.
-Alex
Bad way to start a thread. there are no emotions and feelings here at F150ONLINE.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, my truck had to go into the stealership on Sunday to get something done about a crankshaft sensor or some crap like that. Well Monday morning I felt like crap. Dad dropped me off from school, walking right past that empty parking spot. I felt depressed.
Seems reasonable to miss the ability of driving to school and the perks that come with.
I sat in 1st and 2nd block and didn't even touch my book. Didn't say a word. Lunch rolled around and I walked across the street to Little Caesars. Sucks cause I usually drive around. I even had to use my locker. I forgot the combination so it took my five minutes to figure it out. I usually put my books in the back of the truck. Well after class I was lugging my books around, no one to talk to, and no sexy truck to greet me after school. I started having suicidal thoughts. What if they washed her?
So you thought about killing yourself due to the possibility of a Ford tech washing your vehicle? Which is WHITE.
Would sunspots appear? My heart began to race. My blood pressure skyrocketed and I started to sweat. I stayed the night at my friends house and rode to school in the morning with him. It sucked because all the Chevy guys immedidately notice an Alex but no Alex's truck so they start ragging on Ford. I was ready to kick some ****!!
It shouldnt take a 4.2L v6 f150 to go missing for some Chevy guys to make fun of a 4.2L v6 f150.
Well this afternoon after having a very lethargic day we ride back to his house and I take a nap in a grumpy mood. I was supposed to go into work but screw 'em. They can kill America without me.
Angry about not having your vehicle for one day. Makes sense to lose an entire days worth of $$...
Alex is in a time of mourning right now. I wake up with a headache. I miss my truck. The sight of her sitting atop the graceful sea of underclassmen vehicles.
Aren't you a Junior? There's freshmen and sophomores driving at your school?
The glistening of the freshly-waxed Oxford White paint in the Florida afternoon sun. Her distinct smell reaches up and throws my eyes wide open as the fragrance whips past my nostrils. I began to tear...
Gay.
Seconds later, the phone rings. I answer in a grumpy mood. "Hello?" "Hi Mr. Melia, this is Sue Smith from Walts Live Oak Ford to let you know your vehicle is...." CLICK. I run outside and throw my friend his keys. We hop in and head down to the dealership. I felt it. Life slowly seeping its way into my immortalized body. We are within 2 miles. I see the giant Blue Oval proudly standing atop the sea of '08 Super Duties.
That's not physically possible.
We pull in right as my parents do. Timmy goes and looks at a fully-loaded '08 Mustang GT. I run into the service department where I see my dad writing a check and talking with the mechanic. My heart leaps. Blood starts pumping. I see the key behind the window as the lady assorts through her crap of daily work rituals. I notice on the work order form I see a big "DON'T WASH!!!" written in red ink. There may be hope yet for my White Knight.
Gay.
She reaches past my dad as they talk and hands me the small, yet powerful black key tied to a small keyring. I run outside, past some Crown Vics getting their fluids checked, and there, sitting in front of a row of recently-washed Fords, sits my glistening beauty of white paint and 6 cylinders of cast aluminum power. It is so beautiful I don't know if I can keep it in.
Gay.
I run to her. I nurture the untouched gracefulness of her recently-waxed paint. I open her door and sit. Uh oh. someone adjusted my seat. Took me a bit to find my "latch" I start her up and feel those vibrations going up my spine and into my brain like sunlight into a flower. I pull the brake, shift into first and ride off into the sunset with my smile on and a tank full of 87 octane happiness.
Just thought I'd share
Well you thought wrong. Good luck.
-Alex
Senior Member
Joined: May 2008
Posts: 207
Likes: 0
From: Michigan
Am i the only one who thinks the movie "A Christmas Story" when the little kid starts describing the bb-gun?
