I’m hopefully going to get my rental car tomorrow afternoon. A tiny little Geo Metro, or some such “compact” for twenty-five bucks and change a day. This got me thinking; maybe I should just fix my truck and get it running, then buy a used Geo or something small that get’s awesome gas mileage, and keep the truck. If the insurance on the car is low enough, I’ll actually save money cause I won’t be dropping so much money on gas for the truck; my truck’s gas mileage is marginal, at best.
See, I NEED a truck, there’s no two ways about it. I can’t do my job without one, yet I really just want a car to save money cause seventy-five to eighty-five percent of the time I could make due without a truck. But it’s that twenty-five, or so, percent of the time that I absolutely need a truck that means I can’t not have one. It’s a work thing – my truck is like any other tool I have.
Plus, if I get a second vehicle, I don’t need to rebuild the engine/transmission on my truck. Since I’d be driving it a couple times a week, if that, I wouldn’t be putting a hundred to two hundred miles on it every day (you think I’m joking, but I’m not...in two weeks putting well over two thousand miles on the odometer is common place). But then I have to find a Geo, or other tiny car, which isn’t as easy as it sounds. The big name dealers don’t usually car small cars like that cause they can only sell them for a couple grand, so the profit margins on them are non-existent (ever notice how Ugly Duckling/DriveTime only sell cars for seven grand or more? Even if the car’s not worth it?).
Drinking early in the day was fun, but, as usual, gave me a monster headache that a dozen tylenol and a half dozen aspirin couldn’t quell. Story of my life; I drink, I get a headache – I don’t drink, I get a headache. Must have a brain tumor or something.
I was rummaging through my closet looking at my suits and found this kick ass old gray curdoruy suit, with the lines and all, and leather elbow patches on it my dad has had since I was a kick. It’s totally old school, and what’s better is it’s genuine – it’s not some neo-modern reproduction of old school with a new school twist. So i’m gonna take it in and have it tailored for my sister’s wedding. She’s gonna flip seeing me all dressed up like an english professor...might even have to not shave for a while and let my hair grow long and curly.
I feel sick. Maybe I should drink some more?
Nah, i’ll just take the rest of the bottle of aspirin and start on Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”.
See, I NEED a truck, there’s no two ways about it. I can’t do my job without one, yet I really just want a car to save money cause seventy-five to eighty-five percent of the time I could make due without a truck. But it’s that twenty-five, or so, percent of the time that I absolutely need a truck that means I can’t not have one. It’s a work thing – my truck is like any other tool I have.
Plus, if I get a second vehicle, I don’t need to rebuild the engine/transmission on my truck. Since I’d be driving it a couple times a week, if that, I wouldn’t be putting a hundred to two hundred miles on it every day (you think I’m joking, but I’m not...in two weeks putting well over two thousand miles on the odometer is common place). But then I have to find a Geo, or other tiny car, which isn’t as easy as it sounds. The big name dealers don’t usually car small cars like that cause they can only sell them for a couple grand, so the profit margins on them are non-existent (ever notice how Ugly Duckling/DriveTime only sell cars for seven grand or more? Even if the car’s not worth it?).
Drinking early in the day was fun, but, as usual, gave me a monster headache that a dozen tylenol and a half dozen aspirin couldn’t quell. Story of my life; I drink, I get a headache – I don’t drink, I get a headache. Must have a brain tumor or something.
I was rummaging through my closet looking at my suits and found this kick ass old gray curdoruy suit, with the lines and all, and leather elbow patches on it my dad has had since I was a kick. It’s totally old school, and what’s better is it’s genuine – it’s not some neo-modern reproduction of old school with a new school twist. So i’m gonna take it in and have it tailored for my sister’s wedding. She’s gonna flip seeing me all dressed up like an english professor...might even have to not shave for a while and let my hair grow long and curly.
I feel sick. Maybe I should drink some more?
Nah, i’ll just take the rest of the bottle of aspirin and start on Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”.
Oh, yeah, Mount Saint Helens is going to blow up again. Her warning level is at 3, which means Eruption Imminent. Level 4 is as high as it goes, and level 4 means Erupting Right Now.
Now I HAVE to go to Seattle for Christmas so i can go get me some Saint Helen's ash in a mason jar like my father did after the first explosion, just before I was born. Or concieved? Whichever, I must go now!
the ONE fucking team i didn't want to be in the post season is now in the mother fucking post season....what's the point in watching anymore?