When we were young my grandfather had this old rusty mustang in the driveway. He used to tell us stories about the Mustang events he would attend. I’m not real sure how the car ended up turning into such a piece of junk considering he sure had a lot of nice things to say about it.
I used to drive a 1972 Volkswagen Beetle, and I tell ya, that thing was my pride and joy. I wish it had never started breaking down on me. I love having my reliable new beetle, but seriously that was the coolest car ever. And the memories, sigh. I wish we hadn’t even sold it, I mean we traded it in toward my new beetle and they gave us all of FIVE HUNDRED dollars. We paid about $2k for it to begin with, it just doesn’t seem worth it at all to me. Especially considering the great condition it was in, unlike my grandfather’s mustang.
It didn’t help that my brother and his friend decided to fill it full of bullet holes with my brother’s bee bee gun. I don’t know how on earth Eric ended up with a bee bee gun because quite honestly he is the last child that I would give one too. I can’t be too hard on him though because he did actually use it for good. We had this cousin, who was a habitual liar, he was mean, and now that we’re grown he turned out to be a really, really horrible awful disgusting person (imagine that!). Anyhow, apparently my brother shot him right in the stomach. I can’t remember it cause I was much too young, but man, I would pay a lot of money to have that on tape. That guy is probably my least favorite person on earth.