Toh
Toh

Toh

Cant Tell
Cant Tell

Cant Tell

So Drunk
So Drunk

So Drunk

Fucked
Fucked

Fucked

Bullet
Bullet

Bullet

Puberty Hits
Puberty Hits

Puberty Hits

Memeing
Memeing

Memeing

Lol I
Lol I

Lol I

Memed
Memed

Memed

You Ready
You Ready

You Ready

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Trucks: Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years
Trucks: Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years

Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years

Trucks: Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years
Trucks: Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years

Nationwide quarantine has the Semi trucks napping in their natural environment for the first time in years

Trucks: eel–boy: kaliozzz: two trucks finding their soulmates two trucks finding love two trucks finding love
Trucks: eel–boy:

kaliozzz:
two trucks finding their soulmates 
two trucks finding love
two trucks finding love

eel–boy: kaliozzz: two trucks finding their soulmates two trucks finding love two trucks finding love

Trucks: 1AM glyndarling: aerylon: loloftheday: Let’s see you little punks smash my letterbox now This reminds me of this guy who used to live on my dad’s street.   Every time it snowed, the snow plow would take out his mailbox - and only his mail box.  And just to be clear - it was done intentionally.  No one knows why, but the driver of the snow plow would target his box and mow it down.  He’d call the DOT to complain, and would get an earful of excuses that amounted to “not our fault you have a wimpy mailbox.”   Fast forward to the next winter.  First decent snow starts falling, and every kid is hoping for a snow day.  It was right around 4:30 am that the whole neighborhood was woken up to this loud CLANG and the screech of tearing metal.  My dad made it to the window first and started laughing his ass off. Sitting out side was one very totaled, and almost ripped in half, snow plow.  And these weren’t little pick-up trucks with a blade on the front, we have these up in NY: Well, turns out over the summer, my dad’s neighbor got himself a backhoe and sank a steel I beam into the ground in his front yard.  Then he covered it with a decorative wood sleeve and topped it with a brand new mailbox.  When the snowplow driver tried to mow it down it was a bad case of immovable object meets unstoppable force - and the mailbox won.  With the plow firmly impaled on the I beam, it was very clear that the driver had gone out of his way to hit it.   Naturally, the DOT wasn’t happy, and the neighbor’s reply was simple: “Not my faulty you have a wimpy snowplow.”  They did try to sue him for the damages, but as he had gone to the town, gotten approval for the post and its installation, and made sure everything was up to code, it was thrown out pretty quick.   And for anyone wondering about the driver…  He was fine.  His job and tighty-whiteys … not so much. That is a very satisfying read.
Trucks: 1AM
glyndarling:

aerylon:

loloftheday:

Let’s see you little punks smash my letterbox now

This reminds me of this guy who used to live on my dad’s street.  

Every time it snowed, the snow plow would take out his mailbox - and only his mail box.  And just to be clear - it was done intentionally.  No one knows why, but the driver of the snow plow would target his box and mow it down.  He’d call the DOT to complain, and would get an earful of excuses that amounted to “not our fault you have a wimpy mailbox.”  

Fast forward to the next winter.  First decent snow starts falling, and every kid is hoping for a snow day.  It was right around 4:30 am that the whole neighborhood was woken up to this loud CLANG and the screech of tearing metal.  My dad made it to the window first and started laughing his ass off.

Sitting out side was one very totaled, and almost ripped in half, snow plow.  And these weren’t little pick-up trucks with a blade on the front, we have these up in NY:

Well, turns out over the summer, my dad’s neighbor got himself a backhoe and sank a steel I beam into the ground in his front yard.  Then he covered it with a decorative wood sleeve and topped it with a brand new mailbox.  When the snowplow driver tried to mow it down it was a bad case of immovable object meets unstoppable force - and the mailbox won.  With the plow firmly impaled on the I beam, it was very clear that the driver had gone out of his way to hit it.  

Naturally, the DOT wasn’t happy, and the neighbor’s reply was simple: “Not my faulty you have a wimpy snowplow.”  They did try to sue him for the damages, but as he had gone to the town, gotten approval for the post and its installation, and made sure everything was up to code, it was thrown out pretty quick.  

And for anyone wondering about the driver…  He was fine.  His job and tighty-whiteys … not so much.


That is a very satisfying read.

glyndarling: aerylon: loloftheday: Let’s see you little punks smash my letterbox now This reminds me of this guy who used to live on...

Trucks: Cood Caerings Colaring in the lines: Colors make Sense: No white Spaces: CEZAN EI ashabl Markers C) lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem. On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay. But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes. But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.” The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish. And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore. Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school. The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room. When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem. ~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy …
Trucks: Cood Caerings
 Colaring
 in the
 lines:
 Colors
 make
 Sense:
 No white
 Spaces:
 CEZAN
 EI
 ashabl
 Markers
 C)
lynati:
movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…

lynati: movemequotes: Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” though...