I could be hit by a Sara Lee truck tomorrow. Which is not a bad way of going: 'Richard Simmons Found in a Freeway in Pound Cake and Fudge, With a Smile on His Face.' Let's face it. We don't know anything.
Buck up or stay in the truck.
My uncles, who are farmers in Minooka, Illinois - I grew up with them and their pickup trucks and mustaches, and to me that was masculinity: big hairy sweaty guys who could pick up a bus.
I'm starting to think about things that I want to do, things that are fun. One of them is driving a car like a Porsche. I've driven a lot of cars - sedans, trucks and big family vehicles all year long. But there's nothing like a four-wheel-drive Porsche.
When I was a kid, my step dad started this business and would go out and get lost cows and stuff. He was part-time truck driver, farmer and cowboy. He taught me how to ride from an early age.
When I first starting making money, when I first made my first six-digits, I was - my big thing was I went to put super unleaded in my truck for the first time.
I feel strikingly domestic. We're in our own world with two busses and trucks.
I love all insider memoirs. It doesn't matter whether it's truck-drivers or doctors. I think everybody likes to go backstage, find out what people think and what they talk about and what specialised job they have.
First of all, I have to have trucks because I live most of my time on a horse farm, so I've gotta have trucks. It's in the northeast; I've got to have pickup trucks to move snow, number one. Number two, just if I'm driving, I don't have to have an SUV, but I want a big car.
Women are like cars: we all want a Ferrari, sometimes want a pickup truck, and end up with a station wagon.
I love the smell of Waffle House; it's the smell of freedom, being on the open road and knowing that ninety percent of the people eating around you are also on that road. Truck driver's, road-trippers, hangovers--those who don't live that monotonous life of society slavery.
Meditation is not contemplation because it is not thinking at all - consistent, inconsistent, crazy, sane. It is not thinking at all; it is witnessing. It is just sitting silently deep within yourself, looking at whatsoever is happening inside and outside both. Outside there is traffic noise, inside there is also traffic noise - the traffic in the head. So many thoughts - trucks and buses of thoughts and trains and airplanes of thoughts, rushing in every direction. But you are simply sitting aloof, unconcerned, watching everything with no evaluation.
A lesson will keep repeating itself until it is learned. Life first will send the lesson to you in the size of a pebble; if you ignore the pebble, then life will send you a brick; if you ignore the brick, life will send you a brick wall; if you ignore the brick wall, life will send you a demolition truck.
He left the key in the ignition. No one was likely to come up here and steal the truck- and if anyone did... well, he could deal with Charles
Tiger the dog had a showdown with a fast moving flower truck in the middle of the street and lost.
For we constantly deal with practical problems, with molders, contractors, derricks, stone-men, ropes, builders, scaffoldings, marble assistants, bronze-men, trucks, rubbish men, plasterers, and what-not else, all the while trying to soar into the blue.
My wife of 57 years was buried today beside our son, who died in 1941 as a result of a truck accident when he was hitchhiking to take a job. She has longed for him all these years, and now she is with him. I know they are embraced in happiness.
First time I saw Elvis was at the Lubbock County fairgrounds in Lubbock, Texas. He was on the back end of a truck. There was about 1500 screaming kids.
In the old days, people robbed stagecoaches and knocked off armored trucks. Now they're knocking off servers.
Americans are driving more in less-efficient vehicles. Sales of sports utility vehicles and pickup trucks have been amazingly strong considering the recession, and low pump prices are keeping people on the roads
There are two ways to pass a hurdle: leaping over or plowing through... There needs to be a monster truck option.
Tatum plays so much piano it sounds impossible. The more I hear him, the more I want to give up the piano and drive a milk truck.
Oh that's what he left? Let his mama pick it up. Might back up on it, VROOM VROOM wit the pick-up truck.
Don't wait for the muse. As I've said, he's a hardheaded guy who's not susceptible to a lot of creative fluttering. This isn't the Ouija board or the spirit-world we're talking about here, but just another job like laying pipe or driving long-haul trucks. Your job is to make sure the muse knows where you're going to be every day from nine 'til noon. or seven 'til three. If he does know, I assure you that sooner or later he'll start showing up.
I don't need any explanation about what you do with your life. You and I...we grew up together,and that's it. Yeah, we shared a lot of stuff back then, and we were there for each other when it mattered. But neither one of us can fit into the clothes we used to wear , and this relationship between us is just the same. It doesn't fit in our lives any longer. We don't...fit anymore. And listen., I didn't mean to get pissy in the truck, but I think you need to be clear on this. You and I? We have a past. That's it. That's ...all we'll ever have" (Blay to Qhuinn).
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