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I got my Pantera almost ten years ago now. Before I got my car I was a nobody, a dweeby engineer who was completely invisible to anyone under the age of thirty. No one liked me, most probably thought of me as a awaste of good air and a useless taker upper of space. Then I got my car and I became DeTom. Suddenly my life changed. I had an identity, I aquired a pesonality, but mostly I finally got a clue. So now I have realized, if anything ever happens to the car, or if I decided to sell it, I would cease to exist once again. I would again be a nobody mindless lsug, nose bloodied by the grindstone, uninteresting to the point of painfullness even. So I own Pantera, therefore I am. Smiler
But just today I was thinking, she needs me as much as I need her. Who else would put up with her??? Not many. Well ok a few guys here might, but if I catch you eyeing her, I will, I will, er probably say thanks, but anyway if it wasn't for me, she would probably be out in a farmers field somewhere rotting into nothingness. Well maybe not, but I like to be dramatic.
So you see, my car needs me. I, need my car. So we have this perverse thing going on. So, do you think maybe I should contact Jerry Springer??? Razzer
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I propose we have a monthly award for the best post of the month. Call it the "Sweet Fart Award" or whatever you all want but somehow something like this post needs to be memorialized for posterity each month. The winner gets to have a special avatar for the month - an old jock strap or something - whatever. Sort of a traveling trophy.

Jeff
6559
quote:
Originally posted by PanteraDoug:
Gee, the Pantera magic never work for me DT. The Covette people still look the other way at the light, the cops still glare, I still can't get into the gas station without scraping, and only the 300 pound Harley girls with no teeth smile at me. Maybe I should move to TN?

Especialy if you have a hot sister. That is normal here. Wink
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