I've put way too much thought into motorcycle engine powered vehicles, so I was wishing they'd done what I've always schemed up. Goldwing for reverse or a VFR with a FNR box (or any shaft drive bike really) then you could run a narrowed Toyota axle and be real similar to the little Legends race cars. Keep the engine way up front, ditch the swingarm since its going to suck on anything but dirt. Enjoyed the episode, still a bunch of potential in that car.
It probably has more to with the fact that your entire life revolves around taking/posting selfies and videos on social media in hopes of receiving validation from others. HUGE turn-off!
thats why she's hot and in-shape... doing the "Stairmaster" all day
Typical big city response! We were vacationing in NYC, taking the subway after the Macy’s T-Day parade. A family boarded our car and the mother was carrying a baby and had a small child standing next to her. My wife and I got up and offered her and the child our seat. She sat down, looked up at me, and said, “you’re not from here are you?” I asked her if it was that obvious, thinking it was my Missouri “accent”. She replied, “no…people don’t do that here!” I told her that people do little things like that all of the time where we were from.
Don't tempt me with a good time, Stabatha. 🗡
my gut says shes build like a MRAPDon't tempt me with a good time, Stabatha. 🗡
I'm willing to find out and report back.
Did you go to Our Lady of Lourdes??Went to parochial school 1st through 8th grade, cafeteria and playground segregated by sex, out of sight of each other. Boys marched first, single file into classroom and sat down, eyes forward. Turn your head to look back, at any time, earned you slap across ear/cheek with ruler. Alphabetically seated, I sat in last row next to back wall so never was tempted with a peek.
A 6-8 foot aisle separated the groups.
Girls then came in to sit down. Some were pulled out of line to kneel facing chalkboard. If front of their skirt didn't touch floor then rear of skirt lifted resulting in ruler across back of thigh, often several times. It was the only time I got a quick flash of panty.
Fights on playground put down immediately, discipline came later. I well know the odor of smelling salts and sting of mercurochrome. The slapping sound of a ruler or riding crop still causes me to duck and throw my hands up in self-defense.
You don't know fear until Sister Mary Theresa comes charging across the playground or down the aisle.
If I wanted to see panties they had better be on a clothesline.
You naughty, naughty boys, you're going to hell. Sister Mary Theresa will be waiting to greet you, ruler in hand.
