A creme brulee from The Second Cup — I’d kill for one right now. I surely would.
Taster’s Choice, anyone? Or perhaps some Nabob instead?
Patooey.
The S.A.W. has one of those nasty Delco radio/cassette combos, but I have it on good authority that it has the same problem with tapes that Mike Tyson has with ears. Even if I owned any cassettes, and I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to play them. Ergo, no tunes. So I found myself listening to AM talk radio instead during a drive out to New Brigden, nodding in agreement with all of the rednecks phoning in and enjoying it.
Yesterday I took out a gopher that was terrorizing my wife’s flower bed in front of the office. I enjoyed that too.
Then it hit me.
I’m a redneck artist living in the middle of nowhere who likes talk radio and killing small animals. Can somebody please tell me when the hell I turned into Kate McMillan?
The S.A.W. came home today. We had to pay a terrorist, er, mechanic $1077.00 in ransom to secure its release, but our beloved 1990 Pontiac 6000 station wagon was running again after a five year hiatus. So, it’s all good, right?
Not really.
So far I’ve discovered that the car probably needs new front rotors, that the wheels need balancing, and that the transmission has issues. It’s the transmission issues that have me worried. The car will shift into Overdrive on the highway at about 100 kph. The problem is that if it gears down for a hill, it won’t shift back up into top gear. Not unless I pull over and put the car into Park, and then back into Overdrive. There’s also the issue of the tranny not shifting from second gear into Drive until the car is pushed up to almost 80 kph. I can see that being a problem driving in town…
“Sorry officer, I was just trying to get the car to shift upwards. It’s not that I wanted to do 80 kph through that playground zone, but I’ve got to watch the fuel economy what with gas being at $1.20/litre.”
Crap. I guess I’d better earmark another grand (or more) for the tranny. Now you know why it’s called the Starving Artist Wagon.