trucke

Tylenol Midnight 3atre: Hot Potato

Title: Hot Potato
Rating: G
Summary: Potato Rescue is the hottest new food truck nobody knows about. Steve is determined to make Sam Wilson king of all potatoes.  
Warnings: None. 
Notes: This takes place in the Foodiverse, where everyone’s a chef, because of reasons. (Also thanks to post-and-out for Sam’s twitter handle.)

“Eat this,” Bucky said, and shoved a foil package the size of a tennis ball in Steve’s face.

“No,” Steve said, but he took the foil package and began prying it open.

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Pj complex as always

From Kacie, one of the persons in my gender group.  She used to be a trucker, might go back some day.  (unedited)

Was faced with one of my biggest fears today
Long post but i was really scared and wanted to let you know how things could go bad

I was in a truck stop and after talking to a very nice cashier and using the restroom i was over looking at some electronics when i notice this guy watching me, he was creeping me out then it happened, he called me out, he looks at me and asks me if i have had any of my surguries yet and i was like wtf, i did not admit to anything though, i said im sorry i dont know what surguries your refering to because i dont need any surgury, he then goes on to tell me he heard me talking using a deeper voice than i was with him so i had to be one of them transsexuals and he seen me using the restroom and lectures me about how i dont belong in a womens bathroom, by now we are both raising our voices and people are looking and he starts in on how i am an abomination to the lord and i need to be committed and have the demons driven from my life and how i am going to hell, nowim pissed so i speak louder and tell him in quite a few choice words about how what i am and what bathroom i use or how i live my life is none of his or anyone elses f***ing business, now the nice cashier and her manager comes over but they are not alone, there is like 5 or 6 truck drivers walking up also, the manager asks whats going on so i explain how he is asking me very personal things thats none of his business so he asks the guy if thats true and HOLY CRAP, before the idiot can speak one of the truckers apeaks up and pretty much tells this guy he needs to pack his little attitude up and get the f**k off the truck stop property and leave the lady alone before he goes out to his truck and uses his radio to gather about 50 more drivers to come beat the shit out of him, about this time another driver speaks up and tells him that it does not matter if i was born a man or a woman and that i am a woman now and you don’t f**k with women, OMG I have never been more proud to be a member of the truck driver family, and here i was afraid of what other drivers would think when i decided to go back on the road

Mornings

Inspired by this by the lovely dellconagher-doe, enjoy a three-minute Feral Trucks n Vans story.

What woke him was the sound of gentle whimpering, like a hurt puppy. Engineer sat up in the nest, rubbing his head, and immediately smelled something burning. “Hon?” He rushed into the kitchen, feeling blessed he’d slept in his clothes, and saw-

A surprisingly intact scene. There were two plates of some sort of cooked meat, and two steaming mugs of coffee sitting on the table. Standing by the stove was Feral, the source of the whimpering, rubbing his hands and looking in pain at the Engineer. His hands were red and painful to look at. Engineer sighed, reaching up into the cabinets for the first aid kit. He gently took the teary-eyed Sniper’s hands, cleaning and wrapping the burns. “Ya gotta be more careful round th’stove, hon,” he chided him, before lifting each hand to his mouth and gently kissing it. “Daddy always tol’ me that kissin’ the injuries makes the pain go away, and them heal faster.”

With a happy grunt, Feral threw his arms around the shorter man, nuzzling him roughly and repeating, “Wife, Wife, Wife,” into his ear. Chuckling, Engie patted him on the back. “Thanks fer th’meal an’ coffee, by the way,” he said happily. “Jus’ be careful in preparin’ them next time, pardner.”

Feral just responded by hugging him tighter and licking his face.

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Independent Streetstyle Sundays - Ray Barbee in Powell Peralta’s Ban This (1989)

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Independent Streetstyle Sundays - Ray Barbee for Leica 

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Independent Streetstyle Sundays - @ Home with Ray Barbee (2011)