No Camry for Old Men

These last two weeks I have been calling around, looking on the internet and in the paper for used cars within my rockin' rolla's and bank account's peramiters. With gas rising and people thinking that they're sitting on goldmines, prices have been high, so they get the gentle 'fuck off.'

I started looking toward lots instead of individuals, because people are pricks when it comes to selling their own cars. I know, I've seen me do it. Dealers nowadays use their 150+ point checkup where they make sure that all the parts work as they are supposed to, including grabbing the car's tires and asking it to cough.
This is how I and cousin Luke found ourselves at a Toyota dealer on Dixie Highway with a fella named Bob. I told him that I was looking for used. We started over to some smaller cars to where he pointed to some Chevy compacts.
"I don't want any of the American shit. Their small cars suck. You have to go to luxury before you find something decent."
With an odd look, he looks around the lot for a few seconds employing his 6'3" height to full advantage and began steering us in the direction of some newer-used cars.
"This one's nice, and it's only twelve thou..." He looked back at me and ceased when he saw me repeatedly pointing lower and shaking my head.
"I want under ten."
"Oh, well, uh, I'll see what we can find."

Two cars fit the description.
A 200 rolla with 107k , and an 01 Camry with 89k.

I don't think he knew what he was getting into when he let me test drive them, including the term "brake check."
Assuredly, he had never seen a testdriver swerve at a pedestrian, and even less so have the driver instruct the person in the passenger seat (Luke was next to me, with Bob in the back seat) to "get 'em with the door."

Some other terms with which I don't believe he has been familiarized during test-drives:

"Shit on a stick, fella. Get moving."
"You slow mother fucker."
"The goddamned car's not shifting right."
"Drive it or park it, dickwad."

A chuckle did come from the back seat when, after pulling to a stop and eyeing the future single mom (it's PRP for pete's sake. You know I ain't lyin') in the car next to me saying, "Hey Baby!"
When the light turned green I said, "bye, baby!"

I believe in test driving like I normally drive, and I bet he's got a few new stories to tell around the salesman campfire.

I'll soon be coming to a sidewalk near you.

had to change

I have been telling myself this last year that the old color on my blog was red, and not the protestant orange that John believed.
Well, it started to look more and more orange, so out it went since I hate the protestants almost as much as the catholics, jews, especially muslims, pretty much all of the let's-meditate-and-find-our-center-of-peace asian crackpot religious stew mobs. Are mormans considered double protestant?

So I went with irish-catholic green. Anybody who can drink and fight and get up the next morning and dig sewers apparently is my role model.



In other news:
I'm currently in the hunt for another car, so I'll be driving around this weekend to different lots and private sellers, so I'm sure they're be fodder for a good rant or two.

We Return You To Your Regularly Scheduled Boredom

Wow! Did you guys see this? It turns out that this huge fucking ape climbed up a building in New York, and our air force had to take him out! Our military rocks! Support the troops! We need another surge! Four more years!

A commercial?

Shit. It was just a movie. I thought I was watching Fox news.

I'd hate to see the way you drive

Now, I don't know about you, but I find myself getting very fed up with assholes that speak very slowly on the phone. I got a call from someone the other day at work, and it was someone from one of our stores calling me. This gentleman proceeded to speak like he was in stroke therapy.
I had stopped listening since it was too hard to pay attention to what he was saying. I remember thinking, "Mother fucker, you called me- don't you know what you wanted to say?"
Making the requisite 'speed up' motion of rotating my hand toward the phone, I was nearing the counter at Whiteys. When I made it up to the cashier, I had had enough. In the middle of his next sentence I blurted out, "I'm getting ready to order lunch. I gotta go," and hung up on him.
I did it in the same way you would say, "Get off my porch, dickhead, or the only thing you're gonna witness is your ass gettin' whipped."
Not planning on getting into a long conversation? Then spit it out! Are you talking slowly because you're trying to do three things at once? Call back when you're down to one.
I enjoy talking on the phone to people I can't see every day; I don't like having to be on the phone because people can't feel for the hair and pull their heads out of their assess, and especially if it's for work.
The thing about work calls that irks me a bit more is when people call me and then say, "hold on" so they can finish other business before they return to the phone call that THEY placed. Were you surprised that I answered my phone? When it makes that funny noise and vibrates (and didn't come from your mom's sock drawer), that's the clue to answer it. That's what I do!

If I haven't seen you in a while and I like you (fat chance), then let's talk. Otherwise speak your piece and hang the fuck up.

And we'll have fun, fun, fun, till allstate takes the 'rolla away.

Woo hoo!
I'm getting $4,600 for my rockin' rolla, so I'll be able to move up a couple of years for the purchase of my next vehicle.

I'll add another K to the total and try to get something made in this decade.
Since I'm not looking to make car payments, I don't believe I'm going to be going to pay too high a price for a car.


In other news-
If you haven't been watching "John Adams" on HBO, it's your loss. The screenwriting is superb. I'm noticing things being written in the same way that the Grenada TV folks did Sherlock Holmes, writing around descriptions, and including things in conversation that were written, but were very important.

Spoiler alert- His son gets elected president.

Play me a dirge, matey!

This past Monday I was driving in Old Louisville when some yutz in a Ford Explorer decided to take a left turn from the right hand lane. I didn't have time to say "shit," much less do it.
Not too much damage was done, but it might be enough to total it purely based on market value of the car, and not based on the fact that the thing is mechanically terrific and gets 28mpg.

I did, however, manage to hit the street sign, so if you're ever at the corner of Brook and Ormsby, look for my trophy on the north-west corner.

This just in:
While I was typing this, the phone rang and Allstate wants to total my car.
"Andy? This is Ditzy Mitzy at All State, and I have some bad news."
"If you tell me you're totaling my car, I'm going to come to your house. That car gets 28 miles to the gallon."
"I'm sorry, but the estimate was over $3,000, and it's state law that when it's over 75% of the car's value..."
"State Law? don't you mean All State's law? What are my options?"

Basically, they're going to look it over, decide what they want to pay me, and we go from there. I can't believe this- I'm getting fucked by an insurance company that's not even mine.

On the bright side, the guy that hit me was pulled over about two hours earlier for speeding. Both of his events that day happened in his girlfriend's Explorer. Now, there's a relationship tester!

Pretzelrama!

I used the phrase the other day in a professor's office. She was talking about students complaining and asking for special treatment. I asked her, "Did you tell 'em what they're doin's like asking for pretzels in the Sudan? It just ain't gonna happen."

I got a chuckle out of her, but you could almost see the animated cursor in her eyes as her brain tried to work out that little hum-dinger.

Classic.

We can drink, fish, and stay overnight

Hey fellers, I just wanted to let you know why you want to come to da Ville. Cousin Luke and I are renting a cabin on a small lake about 35 miles away from Louisville. It's a cinder block two-bedroom, front room/kitchen. Electricity, but no running water.

Luke and I were replacing some wood and framing up a window this last weekend, and will be cleaning out all the old stuff and painting soon. This cabin will be pretty spartan, with all the chairs and table being the plastic patty o'furniture, with maybe a metal flip and fu, I mean futon in the front room.

This isn't a major operation; you can fish from the dock or go out on a john boat and fish for crappie, then come back up and drink more beer.
I'm going to the cabin to do some more work, so I'll get some pictures of the place.
Of course, this means I have to carve another rudder...

I just figured if you're ever in the area, we can get away for almost nothing.