Neanderpundit

Speaking wiht a dear old friend tonight, we recounted some of the surgery battles we’d had.

One in particular- I was in the hospital for a surgery to remove torn cartilage from my left knee. They wouldn’t let me leave the place until I could piss, and I couldn’t quite work one up, so this sadist nurse foley’d me.

I had no idea they were supposed to use lube. I had no idea they were supposed to use lube to REMOVE it.

This bitch yanked that bastard out of my pecker like she was pulling the starter rope on a McCullough Chainsaw. I made a noise that shouldn’t come out of a human. And I pissed needles a week after.

Dumb damned bitch.

Tommyknockers, tommyknockers, knocking at the door.

So I discovered that the injectors I have cost $22 each to clean. That’s $22 x 8. $176.

Sorry.

All you need to clean these bastards is a fluid at 30 psi. And some way to turn them on (12 volts)

So I made this.

The injector gets clamped between a bushing I bored out for the purpose, and a piece of redi-bar.

The top valve opens so I can spray or pour in a measured amount of carb cleaner; the pigtail is connected to a horn switch, and the regulator uses air pressure to get the fluid up to the appropriate pressure. The glass cylinder at the bottom allows me to catch and reuse the cleaning solvent, and also view the spray.

So you put in a measured amount of fluid, push the button, and time how long the fluid takes to go through the injectors. They were a teeny bit dirty at first, but nothing dramatic. And so I cleaned them all and checked their flow times against one another, and am now ready to reinstall.

I don’t understand what the holiday crap is all about. I have never seen a more discontented foul-mood bunch of nimrods than in a shopping mall.

It’s fun to be nice to them and watch their reactions. I sang carols- just under my breath- all day long, people next to me in store lines looked…. and sometimes smiled. SOmetimes they shook their heads as if I were insane. WHich showed good judgement on their part.

Still. I have a lot of friends in dire straits. A lot of people who have actual problems. I have some things going on in my life but nothing the careful application of cash (or credit) cannot resolve. And, thankfully, I have the cash- and credit.
I’m the luckiest sonofabitch alive, and I ain’t afraid to say it. I could have real trouble, and I don’t. You know what’s REALLY miraculous- at the time of year when I’m usually packing on an extra twelve, thirty pounds, I’m not gaining a pound- though I’m constantly surrounded by wonderful things. Which I sample with glee. “Sampling” being the operative term.