the best scooter's and where to buy
deliveries prior to Christmas. - Design patented quick stop brake - 100mm MGP 85A PU Wheels - MGP 12 Spoke Pro Core - Single Piece deck and goose ...
*SOLD* 1966 Ford Mustang Convertible "Ride in the Red"
New replacement parts in the past year include heater core, windshield washer pump, horns, complete exhaust, rear brake shoes and wheel cylinders ...
My Weekend Adventure (unabridged)
I have painted that same sentiment on my car several times before. "DMB or Bust". "Bahamas or Bust". "Brickyard or Bust". I guess I never really understood what it meant. Was it a I'm-so-excited-to-get-to-such-n-such-that-I-think-I-am-gonna-bust...or was it more of an if-I-dont-make-it-to-such-n-such-my-whole-vacation-will-be-a-bust? Professor lets us out of class at 12:30. HOLLER! I was so pumped. I damn near ran the mile back to the hotel, changed clothes, grabbed my bag, ran down to the lobby and printed off the directions to the ferry terminal for Saturday. Apparently while I was printing, I missed the last courtesy shuttle to the airport. I ended up waiting 40 minutes for the next one. Major drag, and probably the first sign from God that this weekend wasn't going to go well. But I had an upbeat attitude and didn't really mind waiting. Got to the rentacar joint, found out that I got a free upgrade from cheap-econo-car to a zippy Mazda 3, with a free GPS. In about 25 minutes I was on the road. This was the first time I drove in southern California. I was on cloud nine and hanging on real tight because these effers drive faster than NASCAR! When I arrived in Ventura--without any direction snafus--I was still pumped. I kept telling myself that the kayaking trip would make up for all the stresses that driving there. My hotel, the Best Western, was really close to downtown Ventura. The room was nice and the hotel was full. I was mentally preparing myself for a horrible nights sleep, figuring it would be very loud. Before bed, I needed dinner. It was almost 8pm and I hadn't eaten since about 11:30. So I found a little Irish pub downtown. The hostess asked, "just one?". Yep, just me. "I'm sorry, did you say just one? By yourself?" Good golly, what is it, 1950? Yes, I am all alone. I ended up taking a seat at the bar. I sat next to an overgrown surfer boy and his main squeeze. After I ordered a pale ale, I scanned the room. Over my left shoulder, there was a younger guy...