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Now I haven’t known Bryan nearly as long as I've known my sister. But ever since we built our first potato gun together I've considered him to be one of my best friends. Bryan, I've always been proud to call you my friend, now I'm honored to call you my brother.
To Sarah and Bryan, may God bless them and the home that they create.
<sarcasm>
Amber loved it.
</sarcasm>
Every stoplight should work as follows. When there is a green light the left turn lane should have a blinking red light. Then when the cars going straight get a red light there should be a protected green arrow for the cars turning left. This should last for just a little while for the cars that couldn't turn on the blinking red. That's it. Every stoplight every time. Things would work out so much better that way.
From,
The guy who gets stuck at a light for several cycles because the light isn't set up this way.
Then came the birthday party. What an awesome bash. Plenty of stories to tell from this one. Picture this: me sitting on the keg with a bottle of wine in my hand pouring beer for people. All of this taking place inside the giant Pepsi fridge. Props to Bourke for throwing a wicked party.
He got up and walked across the dark room. Small shards of light glinting off of the various surgical steel loops and studs that adorned his body. He made his way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Looking into the mirror he laughed at himself. He felt as though he should be the strong one. She needed him right now and he new it. Laughing at his weakness he slid back the medicine cabinet door and groped for some sleeping pills.
“What did you take?” she asked as soon as he came back into the room.
“Just some sleeping pills” he replied trying to mask the pain in his voice.
“No headache pills?”
“Nope, just the Tylenol p.m.” She didn’t like it when he mixed medications to put himself to sleep. After a long week of doing it every night he was worried himself about becoming addicted to a drug he didn’t even have a prescription for. Sleep wasn’t coming easy for him lately. Tonight was going to be even worse.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
:”Nothing” he lied. Then trying to find some inner strength to keep himself together he climbed back into bed. “Not tonight” he said to himself “Any night but tonight” ...
Wrote that a while ago. Actually it goes on but it gets kind of personal.
Who's going to give me a sponge bath? I'm filthy!