Happy Birthday guys!
BSLCA BS... ie.. local chat..
- Thread starter PScottBx
- Start date
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN STEWART AND CODY ROMERO
Ditto,
Why are you pulling the front CV's if you lost a rear drive shaft
? Not following what you did there. BUT look on the bright side atleast you did not lose a wheel. ... this time 
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what she saidHAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN STEWART AND CODY ROMERO
Why are you pulling the front CV's if you lost a rear drive shaft
Its a Taco thing when ur front diff. goes out on i-10 at 65, no lock hubS like u, OH back on the road, two wheel drive only
- Thread starter
- #7,827
Happy Birthday gentsI hope you have a Great one
What they all said
Dam dude that sucks. Going to replace the stock stuff? If anything from my IFS I took of my 4Runner will fit you can have it to help out. Let us know when the wrench a thon is and I'll show up to lend a hand.
Oh i like to Larry if i can find a cheap one, great movie. Albert all my stuff breaks on road, hmm don't get it. if someone finds a sas for i would be so happy, i hate what i have. i need a driver side diff..
Thanks for all the B-day wishes.
Happy B-Day John and Cody!!
Thanks Guys, and Happy B-day John.
I'm gonna have some Cookie Cake for all those up there this weekend. I can't wait.
Thanks
Cody
I'm gonna have some Cookie Cake for all those up there this weekend. I can't wait.
Thanks
Cody
(
yup that is only three weeks away
Thats to soon, more like Feb. i will be looking, Fabtech for sale and new coilover.
to all our service personal past & present
Twas the night before christmas,
he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of
plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
with presents to give,
and to see just who
in this home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight i did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle,
just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
a sober thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
it was dark and dreary,
i found the home of a soldier,
once i could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle,
the room in such disorder,
not how i pictured
a united states soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom i'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
the floor for a bed?
I realized the families
that i saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate
a bright christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold christmas eve
in a land far from home.
The very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
i dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and i heard a rough voice,
'santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
i fight for freedom,
i don't ask for more,
my life is my god,
my country, my corps.'
the soldier rolled over
and drifted to sleep,
i couldn't control it,
i continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
and we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, 'carry on santa,
it's christmas day, all is secure.'
one look at my watch,
and i knew he was right.
'merry christmas my friend,!
And to all a good night.'
Twas the night before christmas,
he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of
plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
with presents to give,
and to see just who
in this home did live.
I looked all about,
a strange sight i did see,
no tinsel, no presents,
not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle,
just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.
With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
a sober thought
came through my mind.
For this house was different,
it was dark and dreary,
i found the home of a soldier,
once i could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle,
the room in such disorder,
not how i pictured
a united states soldier.
Was this the hero
of whom i'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
the floor for a bed?
I realized the families
that i saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world,
the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate
a bright christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year,
because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
on a cold christmas eve
in a land far from home.
The very thought
brought a tear to my eye,
i dropped to my knees
and started to cry.
The soldier awakened
and i heard a rough voice,
'santa don't cry,
this life is my choice;
i fight for freedom,
i don't ask for more,
my life is my god,
my country, my corps.'
the soldier rolled over
and drifted to sleep,
i couldn't control it,
i continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
and we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave
on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor
so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, 'carry on santa,
it's christmas day, all is secure.'
one look at my watch,
and i knew he was right.
'merry christmas my friend,!
And to all a good night.'