Why Do I Want My Girlfriend Back? Because of Spring Break 2005 **UPDATE** Picture of Duct Taped Car Added

If Duct Tape had not been invented, this picture would have never been taken. 

John started this site because he got dumped by his girlfriend of four years. He doesn't have his girlfriend back yet, but he's going to document his day-by-day efforts to win her heart back, even if it takes him 19 years to do it.


On a side note, many people have been saying, "John, what is wrong with you, if you really want her back, you should be updating this blog every minute of every day." 


Here's the deal: Although the reaction to this blog has been 98 percent positive, a few of John's family and friends feel that constant updates about his quest to get his girlfriend back might make things a little overbearing for the girlfriend. Obviously, John created this site to get  his girlfriend back, not chase her away. With that in mind, he'll be posting 'why do I want my girlfriend back' memories twice a week. Besides that, you'll also get one update every two weeks on how the chase is going. 


Thanks to everyone for reading, and hopefully you're still around when John writes his last post, "How I got my girlfriend back."

Do you want to hear a romantic story about a girl, a boy and a duct taped car? Well you've come to the right place then.

First, in case you've failed to look at any pictures in this blog, let me point something obvious out: I'm a guy. When it comes to going on long road trips with girls, there are two things that go through all guys heads: no stopping for directions (or for peeing, buying tampons, getting food or any reason that does not involve filling the car up with gas) and the girl does not get to drive.

I was no different. But then again, Melissa didn't want to drive to Florida, so we both got what we wanted.

In March 2005, we left Oxford, OH with our sights set on a spring break in Sarasota, Florida. Little did we both know that the 10 hour drive was going to turn into a 17-hour trip that only the Donner Party could appreciate.

When we left Ohio, it was snowing.

I'm a guy, so not only can I drive through snow, but I can drive through volcanic explosions, tsunami's and tornadoes, Mother Nature can do nothing to stop me when I'm behind the wheel. OK, actually she can, that's why there's a story here.

One hour into the trip, we were on I-75 in Kentucky, only Kentucky looked like the North Pole. If we were being led my reindeer and riding in a sleigh, we would have been through Kentucky in 40 minutes, but we were in a car and the tire tread was balder than Mr. Clean's head.

Everyone on the highway was going 40, I was going 60. Sixty is not a speed you should go when driving through 4-inches of snow. As Melissa began to doze off, I put my hand across her chest. I think she thought I was trying to pull the move (You know, fake a crash or slam the brakes so you can grab a girl's boobs, that move, there was an entire Seinfeld episode about this). I could read her mind and immediately, I said, "Melissa, I'm not doing the move, I think we're going to crash."

Before I could get the word "crash" out of my mouth, the car started spinning. We spun three times and hit the guardrails on both sides of the highway. After about 13 seconds, the car came to a complete stop on the right side of the road, off the highway, which was a good thing, because had we come to a stop on the highway, you wouldn't be reading this blog, because my body parts would be splattered on I-75 in Kentucky.

Anyway, we both got out the car to investigate the damage and to decide if we should go home or continue to Florida. Here's the conversation that happened:

Melissa: John, I think the hood's gone. (She said this as she stared at the engine, which was not covered by the hood, because the hood was in fact gone)

John: Yea, the hood is definitely gone, lets put that in the "why we shouldn't go to Florida" column.

Melissa (Who really wanted to go to Florida): If the lights work, we could probably still go, right? Try the lights, try the lights. 

John (I walk to the car and try the lights). 

Melissa: Headlights work! Brake lights work! Rear lights Work! That's three reasons in the "Why we SHOULD go to Florida" column. It's three-to-one.

While Melissa cheered that the lights worked, I put out an Amber Alert for the Hood of the car because it was still missing. It took me five minutes to find it. The semi-shocking part: the hood was in good shape, the only thing wrong with it was that it was detached from the car, which in Melissa's eyes was a very minor problem.

Melissa: I have some duct tape in the trunk, do you think we could use that. 

John: Duct tape, for what? What are we going to do with it? Make mittens and a wool hat so we don't freeze to death? 

Melissa: No, to the put hood back on silly.

Forty-five minutes and a stop at a gas station later, the hood was back on. MacGyver himself couldn't have done a better job. Not only did we have to duct tape the hood back on, but we had to take care of the brake lights too. The plastic covering that makes the brake lights red had shattered and it's illegal to drive a car without red brake lights, which I knew because I have about seven tickets from seven different officers that all said: fix your brake lights dumb ass.

As if she had been planning for this moment her whole life, Melissa pulled out some red plastic wrap and said, "Make this work because I want to go to Florida." I made it work because we wanted to go to Florida.

Now, the one problem with a duct taped hood (besides the fact that it's completely illegal and unsafe to drive a car with a duct taped hood ) is that you can't drive over 45 MPH or the hood will fly off (we learned this twice). So starting in Southern Kentucky and continuing through Tennessee and Georgia and into Florida, we had to drive 45 MPH. By the time we got to Georgia, it was 65 degrees and there was no snow. But we were still driving 45 MPH.

People honked at us the whole trip. We didn't know if they were honking because our car was so awesome or because we were driving so slow.  Either way, spring breaking girls showing their boobs don't get honked at as much as we did.


To make a long story short, we made it to Florida safely. When our friend Brad saw the car, he was literally in shock. The only statement he could muster, "We should probably have a lot of fun on this trip, because I'm pretty certain you guys should be dead."

If it wasn't for Duct Tape, John and Melissa would have never made it to Florida and this picture would have never been taken which means that John would not have been able to squeeze Melissa's butt. Brad, the owner of the peeing cat, is on the left. 

As for the rest of the Spring Break, Brad's cats peed on all of my clothes, so I wore Melissa's. I don't think either of us remember everything that happened in Florida, but I think we both could tell you every detail of the drive down to the sunshine state.

After we wrecked the car, the easy, safe and smart thing to do would have been to turn around and go home. But Melissa wasn't about to let that happen. That's why she's one in a billion, that's why I want my girlfriend back.

Spring Break 2005 is one of only a million reasons why I want my girlfriend back.

By the way, I'm trying to hunt down a picture of the car, there are only 3 known ones in existence. If I find it, I'll put it up.

**Update: a picture of the car has turned up. And yes, we drove the vehicle below from Ohio to Florida and then back to Ohio without getting arrested for anyone of the 57 laws we were breaking**

The only thing keeping the hood on the car? Duct tape. Lovely, precious duct tape.