I hauled my Gilson to the mechanic's house today, and he helped me a lot. Turns out, I just had one ground wire wrong. Now, as soon as I get a new, non- burned up coil, it oughta run
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"Mom...this is sad...all we ever have is ranch dressing. I'm getting sick and tired of ranch dressing. I need...variety."
About an hour later, she came home from filling her car with gas for work tommorrow (She's a mail carrier) she had three small bottles of French, Italian, and Thousand Island.