Neanderpundit

Thank god for pick&pull. Nephew has been out of work for a while and has a small child, so when prospects of a new gig reared their head, of course, his truck died. So he called his uncle.

I don’t have $300 to put in parts at the moment either, but I went to the Hammond Pick&Pull and looked for a starter and an alternator. $64 later, I’m in the car with them in my toolbag. I found a relatively low mileage starter that came off a Clunkers car (they have orange spray paint on the engine, lest you try to reuse any internal engine parts) and an alternator that was rebuilt apparently four days before it’s donor car was t-boned. Hope they work and give him some good service.

Remember crawling through puddles of antifreeze covered with a rainbow sheen of foul oil? Chasing the snakes out of the car to get the part you need? Remember when you could look at the taillight to determine the car’s age? when did THAT stop?

Anyway, I got the parts, even a 1 year warranty (though you have to go into the yard to get another part and take it out yourself) so I can’t complain too much. And I’ll probably take it out of the nephew in mowed lawns, which, to anyone who has seen my lawn, is a good idea.

One of the first things I’m gonna ask him is about the damned hair. What is it about the aging process that makes you lose hair on your head, and gain it in your ears, nose, and back? I’m not excited about the process of losing my hair but I can cope; having to constantly yank and trim a mountain of ear and nose hair is getting ridiculous. What do I need that hair for? Why didn’t I need it when I was 18? What about Andy Rooney?

These are the burning questions in my mind. I should burn the hair in my nose, I could start a brushfire!

Need more coffee.

then went to sleep.

Dreamed I was in a hollywood movie. No! Wait, that’s another dream. I dreamed I was in (You guessed it) a post apocalyptic robot planet being hunted by robots.

The Ogwife had designed a pretty bulletproof security system for our underground lair, and took a great deal of pride and pleasure at chasing bots around and annoying/blowing them up. The Oglet, being a cute teenager, was more troubled by the post apocalyptic teenage boys wanting to get in her pants, so she carried a Kukuri and had a collection of chins with goatees still attached hanging on her bedroom wall.

Don’t know why it was the chin rather than something more unsavory, but hey. I suppose I should be pleased she never let it get that far.

The ogwife stepped out into the thick of battle- to have a smoke. I was tired of her putting herself in harms way just to support her addiction, so I started installing kiosks all around the battlefielfd for free upogrades to Win 7. When the bots showed up they were injected with a healthy dose of Win Vista, which caused them to all shut down randomly and boot up with half of the plugins missing, so I was able to herd them all into the dump where I sprayed them with fuel oil and tossed in a match. The fire burned a long time, during which time I was in the doghouse for ruining the Ogwife’s fun.