Irritable Male Syndrome

Monday, March 05, 2007

Wait, I do have a quick story.

For the past few days, my car has been acting up. It's an old car and I can't explain why it hasn't given up the will to live, but it hasn't. It's reliable transportation that's paid for, I suppose, but it comes at the price of my dignity, mostly because it's hideous. There's been a constant problem with the power steering when I first start it up on cold days, but it hasn't caused me that many problems; just a slight squeal that quickly goes away after a few blocks.

But the other day, my oil light came on for a few seconds, and that's something that's never happened before. And then, on my way out to parent's place--where I was subsequently ignored by my niece for the duration of my stay--my temperature gauge fluctuated wildly during the first few miles of the trip. That can't be good.

So, I figure it might be the thermostat. Or the serpentine belt. Or the blinker fluid needed to be sieved and replaced. I don't know that much about cars, ok? I made an appointement to get my oil changed for later today, and when I checked it earlier this morning (the first time I'd checked it since it had been replaced some 7,000 miles ago), the dipstick came up dry as a menopausal woman. That's pretty dry.

Not wanting to incur the ridicule, not to mention dirty looks, from someone unable to ever get their hands completely clean, I headed to the closest gas station to buy a few quarts of oil. Or was it pints? That's how I usually measure liquids. Whatever.

The first gas station I stopped at was selling oil for the unbelievably low, low price of $4.63 a quart. I didn't read the fine print, but it must've been flecked with gold from King Tutankhamun's asshole, or blessed by car repair deities, Click & Clack. Nothing else could possibly justify the outrageous price.

The 2nd gas station was a little more reasonable, so I purchased me some oil. After emptying two quarts into an engine that should've siezed some 10,00 miles ago, and checking the dipstick, I noticed something that, as far as I know, didn't belong in my engine compartment.

There, wedged between the windshield wiper fluid reservoir and something else that was too rusty to identify, was a fist sized chunk of fossilized banana bread.

So that's where it went!

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At 3:42 PM, Blogger Donkeypuncher said...

Pokerama Bananarama


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