Hey there, I'm Don. 22 years old, and a passenger of the roller coaster of life. Luckily not doing it alone, and have the most supportive and amazing girl on the planet by my side. And having a kickass group of friends helps too. My mind works in a nonstop visual manner, and I'm always looking to learn new things. So maybe stick around and see what we can teach or show each other.

I really hate that my words fall on deaf ears all the time..

Like Monday night when my Grandfather wanted to put break fluid in the reservoir of the Jeep so that he could show the leak in the system when he pumped the brakes. Pumping air into the system and the master cylinder like that is a good way to blow more brake lines, and blow the master cylinder. Sure, you’re wasting money on everything else, so why not cause more damage that I need to repair? And when I told him not to do that, he said “Oh, it’s fine.” Twenty minutes later you’re on the phone with your son and he tells you the same thing, and you go “Oh, I didn’t realize that. That would be bad to do, thanks for telling me. That saved me money, I’m sure.” What the actual fuck?

And just now, I’m on the phone with dad, talking about (finally) being able to register the Jeep in this state. The biggest thing stopping us was the condition of the emissions that the Jeep puts out. Engine mods, and a straight pipe exhaust will screw with that. But when the state sends us a letter that says they basically have a license plate ready for us to pay for and pick up for it, without inspection, I think I would know what I was talking about. But no, you have to contradict everything I say, and tell me why I’m wrong. Of course I realize that upon an actual inspection there are a number of reasons why the damn thing wouldn’t pass; the body rust, low front brakes, and cracked leaves in the suspension are reason enough to make any car get a big red ‘F’ slapped on the windshield. But I know what I read, despite all that. But no, as your father before you, you cannot take my work on anything. So you’ll “talk to him about it” and he’ll give you the same information with perhaps a slightly different packaging. The only difference is that you’ll believe him no problem, and I apparently am blowing steam out of my ass. 



The moral of this rant is that I’m apparently a dumbass.