4/17/13

John suggested, and I think I agree, that the Goldwing should go on Craigslist, along with the good Volkswagen bits associated with the Formula Vee, and the rest should be scrapped.  (It was all I could do just now to not point out how C-list sucks ass.)  I said gopher it so we’ll see if someone will be buying that bike soon.  Mom’s attitude about not parking her piece of shit, second hand Lincoln outside so I can temporarily store my tools and stuff is really pissing me off.  I'm tempted to sell Fiona without telling her then when she asks about it, say, “Well, I had to rent ANOTHER storage space for the tools and stuff from the shop.  The only way to do that was to get out from under that car payment.  Oh, and since I don’t have satellite radio any more, I'm cancelling that subscription as well.”  I think I might be beginning to hate that Lincoln.  Yep, I do believe I hate it.  I've quit trying to not ding her door when I have to squeeze into it because she’s parked too damned far forward blocking the driver’s door with the crap stored in front of The Seven.  Oh, speaking of The Seven, get this!  She had the gall and temerity to ask if I could park The Seven outside in order to store those tools!  The mother fucking Seven!  Outside!  So her fucking car can stay inside!  I just about lost it!  I made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that that car WOULD NOT be going outside.  It was a quiet dinner last night after that.  PARK THE MOTHER FUCKING SEVEN OUTSIDE!?!?!?!  I'm…  I've got no…  It’s just…  AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!  It’s bad enough that Fiona, my relatively new car, sits outside so her… fuck, there’s no other way to say this, so her piece of shit, second hand, turd can sit inside!  I'm beside myself.  “Sure, let’s park The Seven outside.  Why don’t I just leave it in the street?  Or better yet, I'll put it on the trailer up on the access road to the freeway so BOTH of them can get stolen.  I might as well vandalize the thing myself.  Shall I smash the windshield, headlights, taillights, nose cone, and fenders?  How about I shit all over the interior so that the stray animals won't have to?  Should I put a match to the carburetors and burn the thing to the ground while I'm at it?”  Fuck, fuck, fuckedy, fuck, FUCK!  Of course, if she had her way, I'd sell all of the toys and sit at home with no life, hobby, friends, or anything.  I'd just go to work, come home, repeat ad nauseum, and wait to die.  Well, I'm fucking pissed off now.  I think I'll go grab some lunch.  I don’t expect to come back in and talk any more today.