The Car Ride Dichotomy Essay

“To a mystery movie and then a mansion with a bunch of people we don't know,” she replied.

I hate driving. I have some trepidation about using that word but hate is due where it’s due. And I hate driving. It might have something to do with the fact that no matter how good a driver I am, my safety is still in the hands of some over-confident twenty-something who is texting, eating, and driving simultaneously. Or maybe it’s the environmentally driven guilt I have while pumping gas. Either way, I just really don’t like driving. But, it was driving that made me realize I felt like an ant. I was in the left turn lane on my way home from a hot afternoon of summer band. The little green traffic arrow lit up and, much like ants following the instruction of a pheromone, we swung our metallic bodies in the instructed direction of travel and

“Yeah exactly like that.” I respond, ignoring the obvious sarcasm. After that we all decided to be content with car games for the trip.

I got my dog almost one year ago. We got him on november second 2014. Me and my sister had begged our parents to get us a dog but they kept saying no. THe day that we ended up getting him my parents just said that we were going camping. They said we were going camping in a cabin a few miles from Bend Oregon.

She groaned in anger, only being able to tell him yet again to 'Come on' or ” On ya va!”

During my ride along with Officer McNairy of the Castle Rock Police department we had two cases of harassment, one welfare case, and one traffic violation that we worked on. Both harassment cases were easy enough, as was the traffic violation which we let go with just a warning. Welfare cases don’t normally go to police officers to manage, but on the day of my ride along one was. I had a very good time during my ride along and will probably do more in the future.

“Wait! How did you know what I was thinking!?!” -- colored her tone. ‘Could he be a mind reader?’ Nervously wringing her hands as she inched away.

The Ride is the story of the heinous and gruesome murder of ten year old, Jeffrey Curley, a case that is familiar to many in the Massachusetts area. The book works its way from the grisly crime to the years afterward. It focuses on the family of Jeffrey, heavily weighted on the life of Cambridge Firefighter Bob Curley, Jeffrey’s father. Charles Jaynes and Salvatore Sicari, both from Jeffrey’s neighborhood were convicted of the murder. Within this essay I will demonstrate from The Ride the relationship between reporting and suffering that may have been brought on for the crime victims of this case, the relationship between the victim profiles and the victim family profiles, the role in which the family may have played in the

“Okay. Okay. I'm about ten minutes from home. I'm on the way there now. Have you talked to Lester?”

"Keep driving and ignore what's going on." Jack commanded. The bus driver did as he said. Jack turned back to the blonde girl. "You are a slut. Get down on your knees and beg me to fuck your face."

Christine put her hands up in surrender. “Alright, I'm sorry. Rough morning. I get it.”

"From here to there, half an hour— but with all the stops, I don't know."

The automobile has had a tremendous impact on society and the environment since its development in the beginning of the 20th century. Today, there are over 500 million motor vehicles on the earth. The automobile's efficiency, style, and performance have changed over the years, but there is one thing that has not - the pollution the automobile generates. Because of the pollution, people find themselves asking whether this technology has helped our society or hurt it. Should the consequences of the automobile be cause to eliminate it? Or should science develop technology to eliminate the pollution caused by the car?

Since I was a child, I have always dreamed I could have a car which belongs to me. I still remembered when I was four years old, my parents gave me a remote control car as my birthday gift. After that day I started to fall in love with cars.

Imagine driving through a snowstorm, in northern Minnesota, in the middle of January. These were the conditions in which my family drove in to get my first car. In the weeks to come I would sit in my garage and stare at my beautiful black Pontiac until the day I would be able to drive it. The first thing I knew that had to be done was to give this beauty a name. So, after much consideration I settled for Bryan. I named my car this because at the time I was more than obsessed with Luke Bryan and knew that my car and the person both looked good from behind, so it was meant to be. Bryan has taught me many things, many of those being life lessons that I will carry with me throughout my entire life.