My neighbor is so frustrated with his daughter that I would laugh with him but he’s not laughing. Knowing that her car’s battery was giving her trouble, she came to his house yesterday on her way to work to borrow his jumper cables. He has nice tools and a nice, well-kept garage and workshop. I am sure that the jumper cables he loaned her cost at least $60. They were the heavy gauge, heavy fucking duty cables – not those cheap ass ones you get at Wal Mart for $10. So he loans the jumper cables to her, in case she has trouble after work getting the car to start. But when she comes out to the car after work, she finds that the jumper cables have been stolen from her car and she had to call a tow truck to come help her.Not real clear on how she paid for the tow job.
Now, I want to know why the cables were not in the car trunk, out of sight. You just don’t leave something valuable just fucking lying out on the car seat or out in the open in that part of town. You are just asking for trouble if you do that. Plus, a reasonable person would lock the car doors. It’s not my problem, but I think the girl or her “Piece Of Shit” boyfriend took the jumper cables to a pawn shop and pawned them. It would be just the thing that a cock sucker like him would pull And now she is over there trying to get her daddy to buy a new car battery for her car today. Like I said, it would be funny as shit, but it really isn’t. I feel so bad for my neighbor – he’s in a lose-lose situation no matter what he does.
One thing this area is woefully lacking is high speed commuter trains, subway or monorail service to downtown. In fact, in the past of the lack of commuter services is why so many high profile companies are choosing to locate south of the city, in the Cool Springs area, instead of downtown. Cool Springs has a variety of restaurants and fast food options for the thousands of those suit and tie wearing cocksuckers who report to the high rise offices each day. There is plenty of free parking for all, and there are many back roads and surface roads to give people alternate ways to drive in to work each morning
when if the Interstate gets jammed up.
Personally, I would like to see a monorail built from Franklin to the Airport, with a spur to the downtown and uptown districts and a spur to the East ending just past Lebanon. The monorails could be built in the middle or alongside most of the existing highways and would be a fast, easy as shit commute, a fast and easy way to access the airport for the tens of thousands of executives and corporate people who need to fly. Worst case, the least they could do is add a few more trains to the existing tracks and help with the highway congestion each morning. But that is not the real answer to our area’s transit issues. We can talk about that another time. I’ll have to a bit of research and see some numbers before saying anything.
On of the best shows to ever hit the air waves, as far as I’m concerning was “Whose Line Is It Anyway” it is such a shame that it didn’t last longer and I’m glad to see that some of the re runs are back up and running for us die hard fans to enjoy from time to time.
I just saw Drew Carey (who is a big shit in the comedy world) on the other evening, The Price Is Right, which I found he is the new host for and I noticed that this awesome comedian has lost an incredible fucking amount of weight (77 lbs.) these past few years, I remember thinking that I’m hoping that he is losing it in a healthy way and not from some type of serious illness. Then lo and behold I stumbled onto a site that was talking about Drew Carey and his the secrets behind his weight loss that I found interesting and reassuring to read, entitled “No More Mr. Fat Guy” if you are a Drew Carey fan and get a chance to read this article I would urge you to read it.
I didn’t know that he was a Marine and I found out several other things that I didn’t know about my all time favorite comedian. Never thought that he would end up the host of a day time game show. I’m glad to know that he plans on staying around for us to enjoy for many years to come. Now if only he could get “Whose Line Is It Anyway” back on the air.
A couple of my friends starting racing cars a few years ago, and I thought it would be something they would attempt, and fail, then move back to the couch to simply watch on tv. Well I was wrong this time, they have stuck at – constatly trying to improve the cars, and trying to get in on every race that they qualify for. I am not sure they have won more than maybe 2 races – but they still are going at it will all their heart.
It seems that the time spend fixing up the cars and fine tuning the engines is where the real satisfaction is for these guys,. It’s almost as if winning the race doesn’t matter – it’s simply getting to the race with a car that starts and runs is the most important victory. Personally I do not understand fixing up a car as much as possible only to rag it out and have it dinged up on a track – but if that’s what gives them something to stay off the couch and actually doing something – well all the power to them. I’d wish them luck – but they don’t’ need luck to win, just the drive to keep on fixing.
My grand father, my father’s father, was an avid gun collector and totally enjoyed showing off his, always changing, and always growing, selections of weapons that were constantly seemingly taking up a large amount of the garage, side & back porch, basement, dining room, living room and his office! The only place that you wouldn’t see something gun related was the bathroom and his bedroom, that, my grandmother insisted, was to be totally gun free. (Except for the 45 that was always within easy reach, and usually was under his pillow). One of my grandfather’s most memorable sayings was “Put the pillow under a lady and put the pistol under the pillow” I think of that old saying more often than I would have ever thought I would. As a kid growing up listening to this old man’s stories and sayings, you sort of tuned them out after awhile.
My miss my grand father and all of his stories, from “back in the day” he was something. He was in the Navy back in WWII and could swear better than any 15 year old ever could. The only word that my grand mother insisted that he didn’t use was fuck. But he was known to let the “F Bomb” fly whenever he thought that his beloved bride was out of ear shot. I only heard my grandmother swear one time in all the time that I spent with them. She dropped the pot roast as she was trying to get it out of the oven and I swear the sweet old lady said Shit, but no one had the balls to call her on it. It’s still a great story to tell when we get to talking about our late grandparents. God rest their souls!