So. Yeah. remember that rediculous 400 dollar weld BS? And how rediculous it was? With it's rediculousness? And the elaboration on about fumes getting into my car and starting fires?
Well. No fires. But that shit did completely blow. Irony has bitten my ass good.
It sounds like my car is the result of a butt-baby between an souped up Motorcycle and a jet engine... while dragging a garbage can full of firecrackers. I LAUGHED at the silly man telling me it'd be noisy. I LAUGHED at him. Tiny crack? BULLOCKS TO YOUR NOISY. HAND FLOP AND A PSSHAW, GOOD LOONY.
*facepalm*
...though i totally had a blast scaring the shit out of people to and from the mechanic.(he was closed)
It has been one of those days. I'm officially a small business in the state of IL- and for some bullshit credibility like Aeropostal's 1987 guff, I tell them i've been a businessfeather since APRIL. R D R R. Next week, I get a letter telling me "Hey, dickhole, you been a business since April? BITCH WHERE'S MY MONEY I'M GONNA FUCK YOU UP" "oh sweet god no! Stupidity! I plead the stupidity!" "TOUGH, TAXES!" *IRS gangbang ensues*
So i've been preparing my 2nd and 3rd quarterly taxes. yes. that sounds exactly as much fun as it looks. twice as much fun as it's typed. oh... wow... hold on to the fun there folks. it's like an emotional rollercoaster.
weeeeeeee
That was this morning. I also find out that the chinese place by me overcharged my last bill by 100 bucks. Instead of 11.55, I've paid 111.55 . Four calls, 2 visits, and 3 mistaken names later, (Brittany, Bethany, and Allison) I get that back in cash. This is probably the high-point in my day.
I find a letter from my old landlord and get oh-so excited. He's supposed to have given me my security deposit back some 2 months ago, and has been a turd about it. But HUZZAHS, he's done it! The old cooch has come through!
eeeexxceept it's not a check. it's an itemization of charges. Without going much into it because i'm tired as fuck, he charged us for lightbulbs, paint, cleaning fees (we scrubbed the unholy shit out of that place, cleaning fee my gills) AND for August's rent. If any of you have been around long enough, you'll remember the freak-out journals where I'm trying to find a place to LIVE, since we left our old place early and the new people are pushy to move in. Also the last month's water bill, which my roommate paid.
On the bottom he's got the amount I owe - some 45 EXTRA dollars to him, and my name angrily highlighted like he had an anger-seizure out of rage. Later in the day my roommate called me and pretty much absorbed thier souls out of bewildering fit of rage, which makes me laugh because that's just what I want to hear. How she's going to personally and monetarily dismember thier bowels from 2 hours away. She's going to threaten them with court. I can't wait to see what happens.
But quite possibly my favorite item of the day, a throw-back to the grand ol' times when life was simple and love was Free 99, was yours truely taking a header into a bush. On a bike. WITH YOUR DANGLY NECKLACES I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY WHAT YOU CONTRIBUTED TO.
Yyyyyuuupp; going about 20 MPH or so and fighting with my POS headphone earbuds that fall out of my ears with a whisper of a breeze, I careened right into those super-tall privacy bushes that everyone and thier fuckin' grandpappy puts up, encroachin' my sidewalk. It's just one-moment earburd rage, next moment, face full of leaves. I broke a fair amount of branches, scratched the shit outta my one arm, scratches up the face, across the chest, up the leg and a few bloody spots on my other hand. Also bent my glasses out of shape and gave me a good face-bruise. Ass in the air and struggling out of the bushes, I realize i've taken my header in front of the retirement home. Old man in a hoverround motors on up and asks If I'm okay. Before I answer he turns around and leaves. Few moments of serenity as being okay, I proceed to kick my hoopy bike like it's got feelings.
Though seriously, It did make me reminisce quite a bit. I did not grow up on the barbie side of town, I made my home down knee-scrap alley. It was almost fun. Now I get to tell people about the *looks at her scratches and scrapes*... angry... monkey...toddler fight I was in. Pah.
There's no way to macho this up.
But yeah. That's been my day. I hear rain and I know I've got some 3 month old ice cream calling my name.
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