PennSilverTaco's "Perfect 5-Lug Regular Cab" Build, Aspergers, and General BS MegaThread!

If you put the Club on your truck, they may assume that you have also removed all the valuables in it.

 

Agree with Ben.
Also I bet we could find you a used OEM one.

 

That would be great!

 

It was more that it startled me. Metal hitting plastic made a deafening cracking noise. Caught me off guard...

 

How much?

 

I replaced mine aftermarket and zero issues. @mach1man001 can help you out

 

Sure. Just send me a PM, I'll be glad to help you out Charlie.

 

@98tacoma27
@Blackout14
@Plain Jane Taco
@DustStorm4x4
@ABA180

This isn't specifically Asperger's-related, but it is another rather interesting story from growing up...

Also, keep in mind I was initially diagnosed as having PDD-NOS (Pervasive Development Disorder-Not Otherwise specified) when I was like 2 or 3. I was officially diagnosed with Asperger's in November 1998, when I was 9. When we were living in California I had not yet been diagnosed with AS.

From 1996 until 1998, my dad was stationed at Moffett Federal Airfield in Mountain View, California (for the 2nd time). My dad was previously stationed there from 1983 to 1990. My parents bought their first house in Milpitas in 1987 or 1988 and married in April 1988. I was born in March 1989, at El Camino Hospital in Mountain View. The first vehicle I ever rode in was my dad's 1983 Toyota Celica GT, when he took me and my mom home from the hospital The fact that the hospital where I was born shares its name with an iconic Chevrolet vehicle should say something (I love the Tacoma, but I was a Chevy guy for at almost two years before the Tacoma came out). The fact that the first vehicle I ever rode in was a Toyota should also say something.

My dad was transferred to NAS Willow Grove and we moved to Pennsylvania (for the first time) in the summer of 1990.

I was attended Edith Landels Elementary School in Mountain View in 2nd grade (1996-1997 school year) and 3rd grade (1997-1998 school year). When you live California, earthquakes are pretty much a fact of life. I was 6 months old when a well-known earthquake hit the San Francisco area in October 1989. I was at home with my mom at the time it struck.

Anyway, going back to 1996-1997...

Since earthquakes were a fact of life, so were earthquake drills. When we lived in Virginia Beach (1998-2000) and Norther Virginia/DC suburbs (specifically the Fairfax County town of Centerville; 2002-2005), we had tornado drills. This was in addition to the usual fire drills...

Basic drills are one thing. At least once (possibly twice), we actually acted out a post-earthquake scenario. I believe the one I remember best (if there were in fact two) took place in 2nd grade sometime in 1997. Students were chosen at random to portray the "injured." A girl in my class named Rachel Cooke was chosen to portray a student with a broken arm. In a 5th grade class, a male student pretended to be unconscious due to a head injury sustained in the "earthquake."

So, the most annoying part of this whole goddamn fake earthquake was that they made us kids sit out on the four-square/tetherball/whatever-ball court for at least an hour, probably more. We just had to sit there right next to the goddamn playground while they went room to room searching for fake victims of the fake earthquake.

Luckily I ended up seated next to one of my friends and we spent the time chatting, so it went by relatively quickly.

 

My boss is the most amazing woman I've ever met!

 

@ColoradoTJ

Why I don't take "shit" from anybody, literally or figuratively...

This also takes place in California. I was probably 8 years old. My mom was on the PTA, and quite often I would stay after school and play on the playground while she worked. Landels Elementary was located right in the center of a HUGE residential neighborhood, and after school hours the playground was pretty much open to the public.

In 1997, my mom bought me a stuffed dog named Clyde that I took pretty much everywhere (except school). I think the only reason I had Clyde with me at school that day is because I'd taken the bus home and then gone back with my mom later on. There were a few kids on the playground, including this black kid who like 6 at the youngest and 8 at the oldest. I'm pretty sure he was younger than me. I'd never seen this kid before and knew he didn't go to Landels, but it was after hours and didn't matter.

This little punk just kept teasing me; specifically following me around the playground shouting "Wiener Dog! Wiener Dog!" This was an obvious reference to Clyde, and it got old after a while. After telling the little bastard to stop and then just flat out ignoring him didn't work, I'm pretty sure I went inside to get my mom at one point to get rid of the kids. When she came out, the kid was gone. Satisfied he was gone, I resumed playing. Maybe 10 or 15 minutes later, this little prick comes back and launches an unprovoked sneak attack out of nowhere.

He came up behind me with a bag of DOG SHIT, swung it around, and hit me right in the face with it. DOG SHIT! POOP! FECES!

Honestly, just because it was in a plastic bag doesn't necessarily mean it came from a dog. For all I know it was his poop. I prefer to think that it was just a random bag of dog poop that he pulled out of a garbage can somewhere.

I spun around and chased this kid, nothing but revenge on my mind. This little bastard was smaller than me but also fast, and he got away. Let me tell you, I would have HURT him if I'd caught him. I was only 8 years old and quite small, and I'd gotten into trouble over hitting, pushing, and shoving; Nothing serious though. If I'd caught this kid, I probably would have at least given him a bloody nose. And I was 8. I would have gotten away with it.

I had never seen this kid before this dog shit incident occurred, and never saw him again afterward. He was just some random kid who decided he didn't like me for whatever reason...

I ran back into the office, told my mom what had happened, and she was even more pissed off than I was. She actually came outside and looked for the little bastard so she could give him a piece of her mind, but he was gone. I stayed in the office with my mom until we went home...

And that is why I don't take shit from anybody, literally or figuratively!

I told my boss this story, and she is now much more understanding about why I can be very aggressive at times. I'm a nice guy, and I've never been assaulted with poop since that incident, but I encountered people like that kid on an obnoxiously regular basis and I just got fed up...

And then, dog shit! Schoolyard fights are normal, but dog shit?!?!

 

Clyde the stuffed dog:

Clyde was basically a knockoff Beanie Baby that my mom bought me at a department store in Virginia in the summer of 1997, when we were visiting family.

For about a year I carried Clyde around almost everywhere. At one point due to his cheap construction, one of Clyde's front "paws" ripped open. Luckily, my friend's mom came to the rescue with her sewing machine and fixed him better than new in like 5 minutes.

On the one occasion I did bring Clyde to school, it was "Stuffed Animal Day." That day, I accidentally dropped Clyde in the Urinal. Luckily the urinal was fairly clean and while Clyde did get some urine on him, it was nothing a thorough ride in the washing machine couldn't fix. Clyde disappeared in 1998 after we moved to Virginia Beach and I may have found him at some point in the early 2000s but he quickly got packed away. If I still have him, he's packed away somewhere in the basement.

If they ever open up an Asperger's Hall of Fame, I'll donate Clyde...

 

I was in trouble fairly regularly in elementary school.

 

I got suspended for two days in 8th grade for "assaulting" a 7th grader who bullied me...

Translation: I gave him way less than the full ass-kicking he deserved but still got in trouble for it...

 

Ha.

I got punched in the arm by a kid in 5th grade, and he had a push pin inserted between his knuckles. It stuck in my arm when he pulled his hand back.


I chased him across the black top while he screamed "he's gonna kill me!" and he ran over to his mom (who was a yard duty), and then kept going another 20 ft or so from where she was standing. About that time I got tired of chasing and I kicked his legs out from underneath him, midstride. He fell like a rock, and I just barely got on him to deliver his bruises and his whore mom pulled me off and took me to the principals office.

I got detention for like 2 weeks.

 

That's what always happened to me... Kids bullied me and teacher's didn't really do shit... Bully finally pushes me over the edge and I give them much less than the beating they deserved but get in trouble anyway...

 

Charlie....sometimes you have to stand your ground, brother. I can respect that.

 

Stand my ground... You mean going after dog shit hurler?

 

Yeah. You had to defend yourself. Too bad you didn't catch the little fucker and donkey stomp the shit out of him.

 

And I'm really not a violent person.

However, one time when I was 17 years old. I was at school and a kid who'd actually met my mom at the local grocery store made a comment about my mom being overweight. I promptly grabbed him and slammed him into a locker...

You think I get angry when people fuck up my truck? Try saying something about or doing something to my mom, or any of my family members or closest friends...