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Hey everyone, My name is Ryan and I live in the Grandview area. I was referred to this site by a couple guys that I do autox with locally here in OVR SCCA. Currently drive a 2009 Audi TTS, APR stage II ecu, HPA stage III DSG, decat downpipe. I am currently looking for another car to be used as a full time autox and track ride, possibly a Honda S2K or E30 BMW. http://i50.tinypic.com/ta1oiu.jpg

When my younger brother was 10 he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The doctors didn't even want to operate, they used the words; "make him comfortable". After some consultation it was decided to operate under the understanding that he only had a 50/50 chance of surviving the operation, and a 90% chance of being left totally blind because the tumor grew around his the optic nerves. I had tried to be the strong one. My mother was devastated and my other younger brother was too young. My older brother and I had to be "the rock". My step-dad didn't care and my biological father lived in another country (came home for the operation, but there was no interaction between him and my mother due to unresolved acrimony). I was doing great all the way through the operation, several hours. We all sat in the waiting room trading funny stories about my brother as the surgeons cut his brain open (looked like Data from Star Trek when they open his scalp to access the control panel on his skull) to get the golf-ball-sized tumor out. I reminded everyone that he and I spoke a non-English language for years as he struggled with his Aphasia (auditory dyslexia, tumor-related it turns out) I had to translate for the rest of the family. I was just in tune with him so when he spoke his jumbled nonsensical words I understood fine. The doctor walked in to the room and told us they were done and he was awake but they had to take more good brain tissue than they wanted, and warned us that even if he survived he "most likely won't be him any more." My mother and I were first to visit him. I had to hold her up as we approached the room, almost carry her, she was utterly destroyed be grief and worry. He looked asleep but we knew he wasn't. We were shocked by his black eyes despite being warned it would happen. He roused slightly but didn't respond to my mother. We were both imagining the worst - was he in a vegetative state? I put my hand in his face as if try to wipe the black eyes away, and said; "Do you know who I am?" He opened his eyes, draw a deep and labored breath, then said; "Stop being stupid Scruit, of course I know who you are." I told him to "Get well soon, you're using up a perfectly good hospital bed that someone else might need." then took my mother back out into the corridor. I made sure I was out of earshot of his room... And I was done. Collapsed on the floor and cried like a baby. My mother sat with me, not doing any better herself. As we stood up again she told me to wash my face and compose myself before we went back down to the waiting room to relay the news. She told me that I had been the only strong one and that everyone was relying on me to be strong to help them through it. I told her I wasn't. She said that didn't matter - if I can be strong for them then that's all that matters. Being strong doesn't mean you are emotionless. Being strong means you stand there are a beacon of hope and strength for those who need you, when they need you. We went back downstairs and I relayed the news that he had survived, retained *some* sight and was still "him". Not a dry eye in the room, except mine. I was still the strong one for everyone, and they took comfort from that. Being strong doesn't mean you have to be divorced from all feeling. It's a tough role, but you need to fill it. Be that guiding light of hope for your family when they are around... Nobody will judge you for how you cope with it on your own. Least of all me.

Nice bike! The back looks like a stinger. And for some reason makes me think of Ricky Carmichael

that music is creepy as fuck

My uncles dad is in a small urn. When people come over he likes to ask if they want to meet his dad and when they say, "Sure..." he grabs the small urn from the shelf, hands it to them, and says, "Meet my dad. Don't be rude, shake his hand....or elbow bone or whatever part of him is in there." Classic reactions every time.

Don't give me ideas. Under the deck, watching the cutting motion in slo-mow. (Ba-dum-TSSS... slow-MOW, get it?)

I bet Scruit has a camera on his lawnmower.

I've got October covered for you. It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown!