Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Whoever Tightened This Bolt Needs a Lot of Therapy!

My most recent foray into relative bloglessness (I'm assuming that bizarre movie posts don't count) has been the result of my efforts to keep the sister's vehicle in running order. The charging system is slowly going the way of all parts that have passed their warranties (or warrants, I suppose).

"That makes sense," I said to myself, lied actually, but only for a moment, then I changed what I meant by that. "The window rolls down and won't go back up unless you mess with other electrical switches (mirror adjustment selection or the window lock-out switch); " Now, turning the here's- your- sign- type- of- verbal- lapse into sarcasm, "THAT's how you know that your alternator has stopped working properly, I should have known¡" I scan the service bulletin . . . Power spike . . . "would a problem with the diode bridge . . . why do I care . . ." replace the alternator . . . "JOY¡"

Later, back at the ranch: "[inaudible explitival euphemism!] What kind of sadist," (let me pause right here to say that 'sadist' is probably the most complimentary nick-name which I have ever earned, especially since it was in Tae Kwon Do class, though I am forced to admit that it was not for any feat of prowess, but because I would laugh so hard when Jerome would get hurt -- which happened at least once in each class-- that I would be unable to fight against his feeble but numerous blows, delivered in response to my lack of self-control), as I was saying, "What kind of sadist decided to tighten the bolt holding this alternator by jumping up and down on the wrench!" After cutting out a brace, which held some trim in place, I was able to do the job. I'd like to make sarcastic jokes about torque wrenches, but I'm afraid they would be taken as innuendo, instead I'd like to denegrate the lousy monkey-wrenches who made my job harder. I suppose a blessing/curse is in order:

May you never make more money than is fair,
May the word of others be as valid as your own,
May your tool supplier's prices match your own,
and may the qualitiy be comparable as well.

When accidents occur, may your paramedics be former customers, and
May the surgeons be people who came for help while they were in school,
May all charges be on comparable scale and
covered by the same amount of insurence.

Amen.

Comments:
Dude, I'm sorry. I hate working on cars, but I hate paying someone else to work on my car even more. My hands hurt just thinking about it.
 
Thank you for sacrificing several layers of skin and a certain percentage of your sanity to get the little car to behave itself.

I think you should start calling all stupid, difficult people Monkey Wrenches. Or maybe Monkey Wenches.
 
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