On Wed, 26 Sep 2007 21:03:47 -0700, EelKat <xavychup@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> puked:
><img src="http://img413.imageshack.us/
>img413/3159/1964dodge330abl3.jpg" alt="The Goldeneagle"/><br/>
>
>
>Hello! I am a 1964 Dodge 330 4-door sedan, VIN 4142216364, my name is
>The Goldeneagle. This site was created by my owner Wendy C. Allen of
>Old Orchard Beach, Maine, to save my life.
>
>I am the main character of the original Twighlight Manor book, and a
>major sup****ting character of more that 30 other books and short
>stories by Maine author Wendy C. Allen.
>
>I started out in life as a silver undercover Police car in Maine. In
>1975 I retired from my job as a police car and was sent to Marcot
>Motors of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, where I was painted gold by some
>fool with a paintbrush. He totally ruined my lovely silver paint job
>and left me streaked with brush lines. I was only there a few months
>before I was bought by the Allen family, who sanded me down and
>painted a lovely shade of metallic orange.
>
>I remained the faithful family chauffer for the next ten years.
>Together we drove on many road trips throughout the Northeast. In
>1978, I took them to New York where we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge
>during its major repair construction. That same year we went to
>Wa****ngton D.C. I took the Allen family to Arcadia in Bar Harbor to
>see The Thunder Hole in 1981. Every year I drove them to New Hamp****re
>where we visited The Old Man on the Mountain and Story Land and The
>Swift River. Three times I climbed Mt. Wa****ngton.
>
>I've brought home puppies and baby chickens. I waited in hospital
>parking lots and veterinary clinics. I remained forever and always a
>faithful friend. The only friend who was always there, steadfast and
>unmovable, silent and unjudgmental. My red plush seats always there
>like a shoulder to cry on when no one else would lend and ear or a
>shoulder. I alone remained to one true friend, the only friend to the
>child who loved me and defend me when no one else would put up with my
>breakdowns and failures.
>
>Over the years I grew old and tired, my engine weak and my
>transmission failing. My last trip was a desperate trip to the
>hospital, one dark and stormy night in 1985 when a hurricane flooded
>the town, sending the Atlantic Ocean over the Pier and up Maine
>Street. My last trip came when the Old Orchard Beach ambulances
>couldn't ride faster than my Mopar engine and Mrs. Allen had to be
>rushed to the hospital at 3AM. We speed through Old Orchard faster
>than ever before, through hurricane floods that went higher than my
>door panels seeping water into my interior and flooding my floors,
>filling my transmission and engine with icy salt water, we made it to
>the hospital with Mrs. Allen, but I did not make it back home on my
>own and was towed home by a friend's little VW Rabbit.
>
>In spite of my loyalty, with a dead transmission and an engine full of
>salt, I was useless, and parked in the yard, put up for sale for
>junk.
>
>I was rescued from a trip to the junkyard in 1985 by 9 year old, Wendy
>C. Allen,
I was with ya til this...
--
lab~rat >:-)
Stupid humans...
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