When I was 12, I came very close to going through the windshield of my dad's Bronco. It was the day we moved into our new house (the house my parents still live in), and dad and I were coming back from the video rental store. My parents weren't the kind of people who made us wear seatbelts, because it was the 90s and we all lived like we were
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My moments of uncontrollable rage (that look controlled from an outside observer's perspective) are usually due to someone chewing loudly near me. But yes.
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